Scoot

 

Scoot

My battle with a super offensive hive of wasps had been going on for days.  With their unique shapes - pinched waists and vibrantly colored bulbous abdomens - these were wasps, clearly not your average bumblebee.  It was war 

The Pesky Wasp

and I’d gone nuclear.  Two Black Flag spray cans of insecticide later, I believed I’d won.  I thought I had successfully eradicated them from under our deck, right below the boards at our feet where we sat at the table.  It seems I had won a battle, not the war.  My problem persisted.  It became apparent that those yellow and black colored kamikaze wasps had only retreated and taken up a new position in a power panel in the yard some distance away.  This became clear while cutting the grass a little later, on what I thought was my triumphant ‘victory parade’, when I was stung in the face.  They seemed to swarm as though a signal had been passed directing DEFCON 1, ATTACK!

But these were not the only wasps in my future.  Another variant, this one a far more affable version, entered my life only recently.  Instead of two wings, this version had two wheels.  Here’s a big hint, the Italian and Latin word for wasp is vespa.   And yes, I'm re-

WW II - The Airborne's
Cushman Cycle on the Job

ferring to the Vespa scooter that today has grown to become an Italian icon.  Surprisingly, the idea for this motorized scooter emerged when former Italian aero-engineers got to see the diminutive ‘Cushman Airbornes’ up close.  Hundreds were dropped by parachute from US military aircraft to American troops in Italy during WW II.  These olive-green, lightweight, steel bikes with their distinctive small wheels were made in Lincoln, Nebraska by Everett and Clinton Cushman.  It was their Model 53 scooter, that became the ‘Cushman Airborne’ for the war effort.  Cushman made nearly 5,000 of these scooters beginning in 1944.  The simple but rugged Model 53 could travel through a foot of water, had a range of about100 miles, and with its 4.6 hp engine could climb a 25 

A "Cushman Airborne" 
Museum Piece

percent incline.

The Italian company that took its inspiration from this ugly military motorcycle and converted it into today’s fashion icon was Piaggio & Co.  Founded in Genoa in 1884 by Rinaldo Piaggio, they had been in the shipbuilding business outfitting luxury ships before they expanded into building railroad carriages.  By the 20^th century, they had moved on to the production of aircraft.  During WW II they built four-engine, P-108 ‘Bombardiere’ heavy bombers that saw service with the Regia Aeronautica (Italian Royal Air Force).  It is interesting to note that Benito Mussolini's son, Bruno, died in a crash of a prototype P-108 in 1941. 

Piaggio's P-108 Heavy Bomber

During World War II, Piaggio’s aircraft plants became strategic military targets and by August 1943 had been demolished by bombing.  Ironically, strategic bombing, the doctrine first theorized by Italy’s own General Giulio Douhet, had come full circle to devastate Italy.  Post-war, with help from the Allies, its factories would be rebuilt.  However, like many former Axis aircraft manufacturers, Piaggio was severely restricted in both capability and capacity in aircraft production.  The second generation owner and son of the founder, Enrico Piaggio, was concerned about reconstruction.  If Piaggio were to survive, he’d also have to reinvent the company by finding a product line more in keeping with peacetime demands.  The auto industry was an early consideration.  The economy was in shambles, however, and roads were in terrible shape, far too many impassible.  Everything pointed to an unfavorable re-birth of the auto industry.  Something else was needed.  Some new start.  Something modern yet affordable, an inexpensive means of personal transportation for struggling Italians who needed a way to get around.  They’d need some form of inspiration, that special awakening spark, for their original design which they quickly found.

Recalling the Cushman motorcycles, Enrico assigned Corradino D’Ascanio, a tenacious engineer from Italy’s Abruzzo region, the task of designing a tough, economical yet tastefully appealing motorcycle.  During a short stint in America from 1918 to 1919, Corradino had designed small aircraft powered by motorcycle engines.  Returned to Italy, he would go on to design Italy's first helicopter.  But right then his task was to design a utilitarian motorcycle suitable for getting around bombed-out Italian cities.  It would also fill the need for inexpensive transportation for a nation with an economy left in shambles with little to spend.  Corradino, however, was not overly smitten with enthusiasm when it came to motorcycles.  He was focused, after all, on designing fast, sleek aircraft, not motorized bikes.  He considered these noisy land cruisers not only dirty but also cumbersome, unreliable and when broken, difficult to repair.  As he set about to create the two-wheeler, his creativity led him to design something radically different that would become a marvel of design and practicality, keen on appealing to the hearts of potential customers. 

He envisioned a small, reliable, low-cost, fuel-efficient vehicle perfect for individual travel, that anyone could ride on Italy’s war-torn roads.  Corradino went to his drafting board and starting with a prototype he'd amusingly nicknamed Paperino (Donald Duck),    

The MPS - Early Vespa Prototype

designed a completely novel vehicle.  The Italian names of Donald’s nephews, Huey, Dewey, and Louie likewise make me smile as they flip off my tongue respectively as ‘Qui’, ‘Quo’, and ‘Qua’.  His use of the name Donald Duck is curious to me. Why Donald Duck I wondered?  There is no official record explaining why he chose that name.  Maybe he thought of his design as a baby “duckling” soon to grow into adulthood.  One theory links the nickname to the scooter’s strange shape, but Donald was an American cartoon character based on a Pekin duck, nothing strangely shaped about that - just a duck in a sailor suit.  He did have a duck’s bill though, that may have reminded Corradino of the flat running-board he’d planned between the front and back wheels to aid entry onto the bike.  Then again, he simply may have been aiming to create his own national icon that was on a par with Donald Duck that Disney Productions had debuted in 1934.  Who knows, it might simply have been some comment made about a caricature seated on a drafting table sketch of the scooter.  It remains a mystery.  

The Pre-Production MP5 in 1945

To save space, the prototype featured a direct-drive transmission, while for easier operation the gear shift was positioned on the handlebars.  Along with these innovations Corradino drew on his aeronautics background to introduce a cantilevered front wheel suspension created from spare aircraft landing gear parts, that made changing a front tire much easier.  The scooter’s unibody frame was made of pressed steel, the only one of its type in the world at the time.  Harnessing his aeronautical knowledge further, he designed the body to absorb stress in the same way an aircraft would.  The seat position was designed to provide both safety and comfort for two travelers.  Most noticeable of all though was his inclusion of a step-through, narrow frame that made it appealing to women who now felt comfortable riding it in their skirts, their feet essentially on a flat floorboard.  And in the interest of style, he enclosed the drivetrain beneath and behind the seat using metal panels like the cowling on an aircraft engine.  This went a long way to keeping the rider’s clothes clean and the vehicle looking elegant and modern, as well as aerodynamic. 

September 1945 saw his newest prototype, the “MP6”, complete and ready to unveil to the boss.  It was an instant success with Enrico. When he saw its narrow shaped waist, its thick rear section, its handlebar-like antennae, and the buzz of its motor, he is reported to have exclaimed: “It looks like a wasp [Vespa]!” The name stuck, he had effectively named the scooter.  By 1946, the only differences between the prototype and the follow-on Vespa production version were the absence of the engine cooling fan, the brake lever relocated to the left side, the horn under the saddle seat, the footboard’s aluminum laths, and the 

A Nest of Production Wasps

aeronautical symbol on the front shield.  With D’Ascanio’s devoted assistance, the Piaggio Company had entered the motorcycle business on a road leading to the creation of a style icon.  In April 1946, this amazing new, innovative mode of transport was an immediate success when it was unveiled to the general public for the first time in Rome.  It was an instant hit felt across the nation. Piaggio with its longstanding industrial experience soon had an efficient Ford-style production line turning out new Vespas in large numbers.

It soon went viral as a ‘vespassion’.  This sexy little scooter began to be appreciated internationally.  Hollywood helped to keep things rolling with popular movies like Roman Holiday (1953) and La Dolce Vita (1960) with Anita Ekberg.  Roman Holiday, with Gregory Peck holding onto Audrey Hepburn tightly as she zipped through Rome, brought the little wasp-waisted Vespa to the attention of the world and only accelerated its fame.  It was just what was needed to stir the romance.  Vespa would grow to become synonymous 

 The "Roman Holiday" Vespa Scene

with style, freedom, and all things Italian.  Its commercial branding went so far as to impact the Italian language with the invention of a new verb, ‘vespare’, that meant to go somewhere on a Vespa.  By June of 1956, the millionth little Vespa had rolled off the production line.  If there were any need to explain the consistent popularity of a Vespa, simply add to it the shortage of automobile parking in large Italian urban areas (I never seem to find a spot) and its low running costs.  Four years later, that production number had doubled as it continued to draw a parallel with high fashion, style, beautiful places and beautiful people.  They were everywhere.  Just its mention conjures up images.  I wonder what comes up first in the minds of a true Italian when the word vespa is uttered, the insect or the bike?  The scooter's largest global market by far remains in Italy with the United Kingdom coming in second.  

Gene Kelly with Barbara Laage
in "The Happy Road" ('57)

By 1988, the Vespa reached the milestone of 10 million units and by 2013, 18 million had been produced and sold.  Its huge commercial success continues to this day.

They say that imitation is high flattery.  Like many hits, there have been many attempts to copy Piaggio’s little slim-waisted scooter.  As recently as 2013, during a motorcycle show in Milan, the Italian Carabinieri law enforcement agency, Guardia di Finanza, seized eleven copycat scooters displayed by seven different exhibitors, whose shapes were considered imitations of the distinctive Vespa shape.  A follow-on court decision confirmed that Piaggio's trademark and copyright had been infringed by the Chinese Zhejiang Zhongneng Industry Group and Taizhou Zhongneng Import and Export.  A similar incident occurred in 2019.  Again, the Vespa trademark was upheld, this time by an EU court.  Americans, or I should say the Texans among us, have a saying, “Don’t Mess with Texas.”  Italians too cling to the aesthetic elements of their pride 

Carabinieri Confiscate Chinese Vespa
Imitations at Milan Show

and joy when it comes to imitations.

Our particular Vespa is a 2006 LX-150 scooter in production from 2006 until 2014.  It features a single cylinder engine tucked into the same space as its lesser powered cousins with only a third of its muscle.  As big as I am, it was advisable to get the bigger engine model so I wouldn’t have to get off and push going up a hill.  That turned out to be excellent advice.  The ‘LX’ designation are the Roman numerals for ‘60’, to mark the sixtieth anniversary of the first Vespa scooter made in 1946.  I’d had my eye on a Vespa for years, beginning I’d say, the first time I saw one in Italy.  Though I can’t recall exactly were that was, it nevertheless was love at first sight.  I recall visiting a Vespa boutique here in the States on my return, well before 2006.  Since then, I’ve received emails of offers every month, but over all that time, my infatuation was 

Paolo's 'New' Yet Let's Say
 'Mature' Vespa

tempered by accompanying sticker shock, especially since we bought a place in Italy in 2006.  We tend to do that – go to a furniture store for a couch and return with a kitchen table or when deliberating on buying a Vespa do an about face and buy a place in Italy instead – that kind of thing.  But why buy one now?  I ask myself the same thing.  I tend to attribute it to this Chinese bug lockdown that in turn has restricted us from returning to Italy.  Maybe wearing a mask all the time has given me a lighter head full bent on irrational leanings.  But in some small way, riding my Vespa here at home into town or along a country road, reminds me of Italy.  It was our friend, Mona, who pushed me over the edge.  She and a group of her friends had scooters.  They had each gotten good-to-great deals from a friend of Mona’s who purchased them at auction and quickly flipped them.  I simply mentioned my long-held yearning for a Vespa to Mona and within days, I received a text message from her middle-man

The Utilitarian Vespa

with a picture of what became my shiny, silver, buzzing wasp.  It still remains a low cost product for the masses, the masses in this case being me. 

Before we left to see it, Maria Elena had counseled me that we’d only be looking, and I’d agreed.  Maybe hem and haw a little, strike a stiff upper bargaining lip if need be, but we’re just looking.  Capisce? (Understood?)  Well, I must confess that I didn’t stick to the plan, not even close.  There is no way this was a barn-find because it was in top notch operating condition.  It may have been more the case of “a little old lady from Pasadena”, for apparently, the first owner hadn’t used it much before it was sold in an estate sale.  The still brand spanking new maintenance manual says to do A, B and C when reaching 48,000 miles but even though it’s a late model, used Vespa, we’re only at the 3,100 mile point.  The price, its perfect condition and low mileage were hypnotic.  Maybe I was set up, 

Lots More Miles to Go

simply a victim of its shiny chrome, a polished, scratch-free finish, that buzz.  I was hooked and in love as I ever so slightly nodded my head and looked a question to Maria Elena.  Then in imploring humbleness, I muttered: “What do you think?” having already made up my mind.  Had I again gone to get X and returned with Y?

Never having ridden one by this point, I’m still getting used to a motorcycle or I should say scooter.  I’m still in the practice stage of balancing the weight just below me in the rear, that I firmly believe is simply not all me.  I must admit that I move along at a much slower-pace than most roads in frenetic American demand.  I'm just over 25 mph in fact.  Being well past my Cirque 

Getting Ready for Another Sortie

du Soleil years, I also haven’t attempted or even thought of trying to recline across the bike.   I've  seen many times in Italia – the driver stretched out, reclined from the handlebars across the seat, resting my head on the helmet case back there.  In any case, I doubt it will even happen because I’m too tall, once even called lanky.  Yes, that’s the ticket, that’ll be my excuse to avoid learning another balancing act.

The one of a kind Vespa had been designed without constraints, simply with the needs of the end user in mind.  She’d been born of a strange combination of circumstances - a devastating war and shattered economy.  It was through the inventive response to a need that quickly expanded to meet a growing demand, that Piaggio, with its Vespa flagship, went on to bring art to life and forge a link with style.  Italians are ingenious at that, making style synonymous with Italy.  Millions of Vespas have been made over the years in 34 different versions.  In the process, it has gone from a means of travel to a lifestyle manifesto for “Made in Italy”.  Now I’m doing my part, scooting about.  I’m part of that vespare mindset.  Once again, I’m enjoying freedom of movement with a little piece of the Italy I miss so much under me.  Could the Vespa have been born anywhere else but in Italy?  Impossible!

 

From that Rogue Tourist

Paolo