Introducing Moe. His last name is Ped. Give the pics some time to load if you're on a moped-ish internet connection.

I've told this story a million times, but just in case I havn't told you: I was driving Herman around at like 2am and I saw this moped up on it's stand right in the middle of the sidewalk, obviously chained to nothing. In my hood (Soma in San Francisco) it's odd to see a moveable object not chained to something very immovable, so I drove back around, and sure enough his cables were all hanging off, he was all bent up, his seat was a disaster area, this beast had been left for dead. I waited around for awhile to make as sure as possible that I wasn't about to steal someone's moped, then I peddaled him home. The pedals turned just fine and there was even air in the tires, he rode all the way to my doorstep. He pedals like an 18-speed bicycle in the hill climbing gear.

I loaded him into the freight elevator (freight elevators are what separate mankind from the lower animals) and got him upstairs. In the morning I put some gas and 2-stroke oil in and tried to start him up, surprise surprise no go. I went down to the moped shop that happens to be a few blocks away and they said they don't touch old Puchs. Then the guy excitedly remembered something and said "wait a minute" and came back with a service manual for a 1980/81 Puch. Holy shit, and he gave it to me for $5, holy shit again. Moe was most pleased.

So I stripped Moe down, took the tranny cover off and removed the carb, and everything looked fine and well lubed, like he came from a good home, or at least a non-abusive one. Then I noticed that no gas was flowing to the carbeurator or however you spell it, I took the petcock apart (the valve at the base of the gas tank) and the thing was solidly clogged with what looked like wet bread. I cleaned that out and manually spooned a little gas into the cylendar and kicked it over and got a little whoom, definitley turning over. At that point, I predicted success.

I found mopedarmy.com, one of those "best things about the internet" type sites, a bunch of moped enthusiasts sharing their knowledge and helping each other out. That's what the internet's for, sharing your knowledge of obscure topics. I posted a couple of ignorant questions and was directed to "Fred's Guide on Fixing Your Moped", which is a fantasticly written and thought out guide on getting your moped to run. As the people on the site put it, follow the guide and your moped *will* start. Beautiful. It's been my experience that sometimes when people teach you something their real intention is to confuse you and make themselves come off as smart, but Fred (the writer of the guide) is honestly trying to make things very clear, and of course in the process comes off as way smarter than any would-be confuser. If that made sense. Props to Fred. If you want an illustration of how slick Fred is, go to that link and search for "feeler" and check out what he suggests as a makeshift replacement for a feeler guage.

Anyway, I took the carb apart and applied copious carb cleaner as per Fred's instructions, sanded down the points to get the gunk off, re-attached the throttle cable and rigged something to replace to broken starter clutch, and man o man she runs like a champ now.

It's super fun riding a moped. My favorite part is that it's in some grey area of the law, even the experts on mopedarmy.com aren't really sure about the laws regarding mopeds in their state. The one thing they're sure of is the cops don't have a clue. I think the general feeling is that mopeds are mostly left alone, as long as you wear a helmet. One thing I do know is that in California you aren't required to have insurance and you don't even really need a title, and registration is as simple as sending $6 to DMV.

So yesterday I loaded Moe in the back of Herman and headed for the beach. By day I zipped around the parking lots and dune outskirts, then at night I rode through the long woods between the Cliff House and the Golden Gate Bridge. What a feeling being up on the cliffs at night looking out over the surf breaking on the big rocks with the lights from the Golden Gate in the distance and not a soul around, just the deep call of the foghorn. One of those moments that are so good I had to appreciate it by invoking that new modern ritual: I called a bunch of people on my cellphone and told them about it.

Anyway, the really great thing about a moped as opposed to a scooter (no pedals) is that with a moped if you're riding someplace stupid, like on the boardwalk, and some cop or similar type comes along you can simply cut the engine and start pedaling, as if you're just a friendly bicyclist. "Sorry officer, she wouldn't start so I was just pedalling her home". Of course if he wants to be a jerk he can feel the engine and notice that it's hot, but what's he going to do, you're just a moped-ist. It's like giving out tickets for playing Nintendo.

Anyway, Moe Ped has arrived. Now he's looking for his brother, Stu.