The summer after I graduated from college, Paul and I housesat for my geology professor while looking for our first professional jobs. I worked at a vet that summer, my favorite job ever. The professor taught classes out west, and Paul and I cared for his dogs and hamsters.
There was an old yellow Vespa (Italian scooter) in the professor's garage that hadn't run in years. Paul got it going again. I have many happy memories of riding the Vespa down country roads. There was one ranch in particular that had catfish skulls decorating the tops of each fence post.
Recently my uncle emailed us to see if we'd like a scooter. He likes to work on engines and such, and when his neighbor crashed hers and bought a new one, she said he could have it. Uncle George got it up and running again, and brought it up (whenever I have a mechanical question, I always call George!).
We've been having so much fun riding the scooter on the old logging roads on our land. It goes just slightly faster than I can run. Actually, I might be able to beat it on foot going uphill, if I sprinted.