Clint is a professional moped rider & fixer-upper

My buddy Clint got in contact with me the other day, asking me to ride mopeds with me on Friday. It didn’t take me long to respond, “of course! sounds like fun.”

Clint’s got this awesome apartment in downtown Milwaukee which he’s affectionately dubbed “The Fortress.” An old shoe company, The Fortress is a lofted building with lots of room, old wood plank floors, and an excellent old elevator, complete with aging lights and buttons. However, we didn’t touch the elevator yet– that was for things that couldn’t get up or down stairs– we walked up. Needless to say, my newly-toned calves were more than ready for the task.

Entering his apartment revealed a few colorful old hair dryer chairs, a fridge in the middle of the room, a bunch of cool technology projects, a lighting kit, and his prize possession: a total of four mopeds– one for each color of the rainbow. A red Sachs, an orange Honda Express, a green older bike for which I didn’t get the model name, and a blue Tomos; all vintage scooters from the 1970s. See, what Clint does is buy these beautiful mopeds at cheap prices as they’re beaten up and usually not working. He then takes the time and effort to repair them into working condition, spending anywhere between $5 and $600 in total (initial purchase & reworking) for each bike.

After an in-depth discussion on technology and hacking the Milwaukee Transit TV System, it was time to head out. Our destination? South-side Milwaukee. Clint and I took “the most legit” ‘peds: the red Sachs and the orange Honda Express, respectively. Using the ancient elevator, we headed out and I experienced what Clint explained earlier as “riding a barstool at 25 miles per hour.”

It was a blast. Peaking around 23 miles per hour, the little Honda Express had a decent kick and I felt pretty manly riding the moped, complete with the low bar for women’s skirts, the basket on the front, my legs sticking out the sides, and the cherry on top: my blue, nylon motorcycle jacket. With the wind blowing in my face (making my eyes water), and a couple stops to admire the backstreets of Milwaukee, we sped South to get a bite to eat.

It’s interesting how much attention you get from riding mopeds. I counted at least five times on the short couple-mile journey where we either got honks, yells, or other forms of… appreciation. Conversations were sparked and people were friendlier than normal– Clint gets it all of the time.

After getting some tacos at Conejito’s Place (which said it had the best Mexican food in Milwaukee…a Google search for “conejito” [Spanish for "rabbit"] seems to back it up, at least on the web), we headed back out for The Fortress.

Now this is what put XTreme into the title of this post. As we sped along, I noticed my Express was putting a bit more than it had earlier. Then, soon after, about 10 blocks away from The Fortress, it died, forcing me to pull over. Clint seemed worried. “I’ve never seen this thing act like this before.” He swapped with me and I drove the Sachs.

Then, about two blocks later, something happened. Just as a car passed us on the left, Clint quickly moved his hand to the ignition of the bike. Then, right after that, at the full 25 miles per hour, the moped started to sway. Moving in a gradually enlarging S shape, Clint fought to keep control of the Express as it tried to buck him off. The front light shot left and right, like a ballyhooing spotlight. Then, on the third swing, it was too much and he was tossed sideways onto the concrete street, flying from the right turn lane, through the middle lane, through the first left turn lane, and into the second, where he stopped. Luckily, no cars were anywhere near us at the time. I immediately cut the engine on the Sachs and asked him if he was alright. After about a second on the ground, he got up and walked to the median.

“Fuck,” he said.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Beyond a few scratched corners of appendages, he ended up being okay (I’m not sure how much warrant I have saying this– I’m sure he’s really feeling it now), and a Lakefront Brewery beer from the fridge helped ease the pain. We videotaped the aftermath on his digital camera (to be uploaded soon), and distracted him from the pain with a little Virtual Console on his Wii.

All in all, I had a great night. Clint, we should hang out more often.

Clint is a Digital Arts and Culture major at University of Wisconsin - Milwaukee. You can see his awesomely hilarious video on cat leashes here.