Mention the word "scooter" and the first image most people come up with is a Vespa. In some parts of the world, they're one and the same -- Vespa equals scooter and vice versa.
Although the Vespa (Italian for "wasp") wasn't the world's first scooter -- nor is it the most popular -- it has a fascinating background.
Originally designed by an aeronautical engineer named Corradino D'Ascanio, the Vespa was born out of necessity. Italy had just been through the Second World war and times were hard. An affordable form of transportation for the masses was needed, and D'Ascanio was commissioned by the Piaggio Corp., which up to that point had manufactured things like airplane parts and passenger train components, to come up with something that could navigate narrow Italian streets.
Apparently, D'Ascanio absolutely hated motorcycles and wanted the new scooter to be as different from them as possible. He borrowed from his aeronautical background and reportedly used sheet metal salvaged from aircraft to form the distinctive monocoque bodywork of the Vespa that most of us recognize on sight.
When D'Ascanio completed his initial design, the story goes, Piaggio boss Enrico Piaggio remarked that it looked like a wasp, and the name stuck. The first model had a 98-cc, air-cooled, two-stroke engine that developed 3½ horsepower, mated to a three-speed transmission, and could reach 60 km/h with a tailwind.
These days, there are five different models of Vespa available in Canada, including the top-of-the-line GTS 250i.e.
With a 244-cc, single-cylinder, four-stroke engine with electronic fuel injection, four valves, electric start, liquid cooling and a gearless CVT transmission, the GTS bears the unmistakable Vespa family resemblance.
It develops about 22 horsepower and will take you up to 160 km/h, according to the bike's speedometer. Personally, I wouldn't recommend it; when you creep past 130 km/h, things get kind of squirrelly. After all, scooters were not designed for high speed with their 12-inch wheels and tires, and the GTS' additional power really comes into its own when you're climbing a hill, carrying a passenger or sprinting away from traffic.
Which it will do with ease. I can still see the look of astonishment on the face of the guy in the Mazda Miata next to me when I left him behind at a stoplight.Elsewhere, the GTS has some intriguing little details, including fold-out pegs for rear passengers, a pop-up seat that reveals the fuel filler cap as well as a fairly capacious storage compartment, full instrumentation including gas gauge, rev counter, temperature gauge and fuel reserve light, and a rear luggage rack. Interestingly, it requires 92-octane gas or better.
Curiously, there is no side kick-stand, just a centre stand. Apparently, safety nannies in Ottawa don't think scooters should have a side-stand because of the CVT, which has no clutch or gears. In their warm, fuzzy and safe little universe, someone could ostensibly just hit the throttle while the bike is resting on the stand, idling, and off it would go. However, you can order a side-stand, for about $75.
I appreciated the GTS' extra get-up-and-go, but this is still a small bike. Weight is 148 kilograms and I found that the suspension bottoms out on a fairly regular basis. Perhaps someone with less, er, presence would not have this problem.
Nor will you have to worry about purchasing knee-pucks. The GTS, although it is Vespa's power leader and comes with disc brakes front and back, is still a scooter. It's primary function, I think, is to get you from A to B as efficiently and thriftily as possible. The performance factor is basically a bonus.
And you'll pay a buck or two for it. The GTS has a base price of $7,499, but my test bike, after things like a battery and tire levy, various taxes, PDI, and a $99 "documentation fee," goes out the door for $9,135.
