This is not a story about a Vespa, but it is a story of one of those moments when scooter karma delivers.
We're all very aware on the nonsense that sprang forth from CaliJ's epic trolling thread. It makes one wonder: what does the inverse of that story look like?
The Story
The phone rings this afternoon while I'm chorin'. I look at the caller ID, it isn't the name of any person or business I've dealt with before, so I ignore it. A minute later, the phone chimes. They've left a message. Okay, probably spam. I don't have student loans or crushing debt, the house isn't for sale and I'm not keen on political robocalls. It can wait.
Fifty minutes go by. I'm taking a break, so I check the message.
It's from a salesman at one of the city RideNow dealerships. He got my number from one of the guys at the shop that I bought the Buddy and the Scarabeo from. He has a customer who is going to be moving and wants to unload an '80s Honda scooter. Rumor has it that I'm the guy who likes this sorta stuff. He leaves me the customer's name and number.
Okay...I really don't need more crappy scooter projects...
Intrigued, I call the number and chat with Larry. Really nice fella, used to use the scooter as a pit bike when he campaigned a '64 Corvette in SCCA back in Florida. He was the second owner and had bought it from the first owner when that guy blew his car's engine and needed funds to repair it. Larry ran it in the pits for a few years, then loaned it to his son when the boy attended USF. After the son returned it, Larry brought the scooter to Arizona with him. Many, many years later, he and the missus are moving back to Florida to be near their children and he'd hate to have to pack it up again. I tell him I'll give it a look and see if I can find a purpose for it. He's adamant about giving it away, but I decide to swing by a bank on my way over to Larry's.
Larry is way out on the Eastside. Like, out where the pavement runs out. I'd been near where he lives before, but I was unaware there were homes back up in there. I did find his place and he met me in the driveway. We shook hands and bullshitted about SCCA autocross for about half an hour ( I participated in and supported Solo II sessions back in Alabama) before inspecting the scoot.
It was near the front of the garage, under an original Honda-branded scooter cover. I've seen the cover in old sales brochures, but never in person. I felt compelled to ask if I could remove the cover, because this was starting to feel like something special. Larry laughed and nodded before I lifted the cover.
Underneath was a surprising clean and complete '87 Elite 50S.
Here's why that was a big deal. The '87 Elite 50 was a one-year scooter. It's the USDM version of Honda's DJ-1, which preceded the Honda Dio as the hot-ticket 50. It was offered in three versions: a 25mph nerfed model for Iowa and other fun-deficient states, a 30mph version for almost all other states where it could classify as a moped and finally, the "S" model, which had no restrictions applied, sportier bits and could hit an honest 43mph stock. This last model was uncommon due to regulations, but I don't have numbers on how many were sold.
I already own one of these little oddballs. My first one was the less-flattering black and purple colorway and it's a mess. I've had it for a decade and it's been mechanically sorted. Parts are somewhat rare due to the single-model year. Body panels are unobtanium. I've been playing with techniques to restore faded plastics and repair damage. Honda didn't use ABS in the late 80's and the composition is a mystery. I finally found the remaining broken bits and just need to finish unscrewing the body plastics.
Now I was staring down a very tidy and cared for red and grey example, complete with the accessory cover, windscreen and front rack. After a quick inspection, the only flaw I could find was a broken turn signal lens.
I was frank with Larry and told him what he had. He was still fine with letting it go, but we agreed to a $100 price, so long as he would sign off on the lost title paperwork for me if I brought it by later this coming week. In the truck it went.
Summary For the TLDR Crew
I'm still floored to get a call out of the blue, which leads me to meet a genuinely cool old fella who has a really nice example of the shitbox unicorn I'd been intermittently screwing around with for about a decade and I have to convince him to let me give him some money for it.
I need to go leave my scooter contacts some lunch money bribes too!
