Honda Ruckus in the City

I found myself creeping along the alley which runs through the center of State College to avoid the more aggressive traffic on College Avenue.

There’s nothing like a 50cc scooter to amplify your understanding of the road. Wondering whether the speedometer will 35mph or if a few less potato chips would make help top speeds, a ride on a little scooter seems to unfold in slow motion. On the Honda Ruckus I could feel the desire to move, to rush, to get somewhere faster, quicker, get through traffic, leave things behind me, get away, get out in front, do anything other than wait for the scooter to get me to my destination.

It’s humbling to be at the bottom of the motorized kingdom. Only pedestrians and non-competitive bicycle riders go slower. Even my Vespa GTS has an engine five times bigger. I’ve found new respect for the small scooter and moped riders I see around town. And for guys like Walter Muma from Michigan who rode his moped nearly 12 thousand miles to Alaska and back, I can barely image the patience he must possess.

Every rider should periodically ride one of these little machines. They demand an entirely different focus and behavior than almost every other two-wheeled machine. Slow speeds force a focus on traffic flow, drivers, routes, and personal behavior. Like pulling over to let everyone pass. Or waiting for really big openings in traffic to pull onto a highway.

The Road Less Traveled

For the first couple days I took the roads less traveled. Aside from a super slippery seat on the Ruckus I found myself liking it more and more. As one of the machines in the Kissell Motorsports pre-owned category I found myself thinking about writing a check for $1200 and taking it home.

Ruckus in the Alley

For rides around Boalsburg, through the streets and alleys to the post office or the Boalsburg Chocolate Company, what could be better.

Ruckus Year Round?

As the temperatures descended in the 20s I began missing my heated gloves. I didn’t do any research on the capacity of the Ruckus to support electrics. Watching the kids play ice hockey in the cold I was remembered a time when I was impervious to the cold.

A Little Tank

The Honda Ruckus is a little tank. I was surprise how solid it felt after first thinking of it as a glorified minibike, one of those WRENs from my youth. That would be the 1960s for me when I used to lay on my bed in my room with a copy of Boy’s Life dreaming of selling stationary from the Cheerful Card Company to earn enough money for a minibike, air rifle, and X-ray glasses.

The Ruckus has big, almost knobby tires, and they didn’t slip once as I began “riding through the woods.”

I rode through a lot of familiar territory with a 10-mile radius of home and found the little scooter up for anything as long as I was willing to accept such slow speeds. I’m certain the experience with the Ruckus has sharpened by riding wits. I’ve never thought mastering the machine was nearly as important as mastering my mind on the road and the scooter forces the issue. I know my place in the roadway kingdom. Easy to forget on a motorcycle that can propel a rider far ahead of the four-wheeled world.

Cutting through a field used mainly by dog walkers and kids taking a shortcut home from school I stopped to look at Mount Nittany, the iconic hill that Penn Staters pay allegiance and provides the namesake for the Nittany Lions. As a platform for exploring the Ruckus is great. And it is so unassuming that no one paid it any attention.

If you need people to look at you while riding cross this one off your list.

Here I am, 56 years old, and finally I have my minibike. At least for a few days. And it was as fun as I always thought it would be. Why didn’t my parents let me get one?

I like the looks of the Ruckus. It has the same rugged ugliness of a Jeep. And I bet it will go more places. If you have the time.

On the way back to Kissell’s to pick up my Vespa I stopped to photograph the little beast in front of the big mural along Calder Alley. It reflects the spirit that is ignited by this machine. Or any other small scooter I suspect.

I believe spending a riding life on big motorcycles leaves a rider incomplete. That little kid inside us doesn’t really connect with horsepower. It wants something else. Standing outside the window with the BMW S1000 RR looking out the window I was glad I had the chance to tool around on a Ruckus.