When I tell women that I ride motorcycles, numbers flow, and my calendar fills with date nights. I’m afraid to park up, stop at the lights, or head to the gas station because I don’t have the patience to say, “Sorry, not today, I just want to ride in peace.” These were the dreams, along with racing in MotoGP, that I’ll let 9-year-old Robbie keep believing.
Imagine my surprise, then, when a Vespa GTS SuperTech 310 did more for my love life than any motorcycle I’ve ever ridden.
I wasn’t living a loveless Ted Mosby life, actually. I’d fallen madly for my girlfriend, and things were going great. So when she agreed to ride backpack with me from Mexico City to Guadalajara on a Vespa—nine hours, flat out on the highway—I thought she was either too good to be true or didn’t know any better. Two things can be true at the same time.
