Life on a 49 cc scooter

ANDREW MEESON/TORONTO STAR

The oversized headlights give the Yamaha BWS 50 a googly-eyed cartoonish look.

Andrew Meeson

TORONTO STAR

Ride along Bayview Ave. south of Bloor St. and you'll come across words guaranteed to strike fear into the heart of anyone riding a Yamaha BWS 50: "Maximum 70 km/h."

That's the moment when you'll know you are one of the slowest things moving on the road.

Which is fine when there aren't many cars around, but when you're commuting in heavy traffic, it's unnerving to twist the throttle just as far as it can go and still struggle mightily to get above 65 km/h. Which is slower than the speed of traffic.

If there's a headwind, a rolling hill or you've been hitting the Tim Hortons blueberry fritters too often, your pace will fall to even more leisurely.

And believe me, the impatient drivers in the GTA will be quick to let you know.

It's not that there's anything wrong with the little Yamaha – far from it. In fact, it is doing exactly what it and many other 49 cc scooters on the market are engineered to do: top out at 70 km/h.

Scooters such as the BWS 50, Honda's Ruckus or Kymco's Super 9 or Vitality 50 are only a few of the type of scooter now classified as "limited speed motorcycles" under provincial legislation rolled out in 2005 (see sidebar on page W40).

In some ways, these are ideal urban runabouts. They're a lot of fun to zip around the local neighbourhood on (or at the cottage), but they will force you to rethink the way you commute.

A week spent riding both the BWS 50 (the best-selling motorcycle or scooter in Canada) and the Ruckus showed the advantages and drawbacks of these pint-sized haulers.

The BWS 50 is powered by a two-stroke engine, which gives it surprisingly quick acceleration from a standing stop – until you hit its 65 km/h top speed.

It's the pop you get off the lights that is a large part of the appeal of this unit, which sells like crazy in Quebec (where one can ride at 14 years old if you pass a written test).

Like most scooters, the Ruckus has a four-stroke engine, which gives it a smoother ride and cleaner emissions than any two-stroke.

Both the Ruckus and BWS 50 claim to have "sport styling," which mostly means fatter tires.

These are a definite plus, as they handle streetcar tracks and potholes better than narrower rubber.

But where the Yamaha has oversized double headlights and a bright paint job, giving it a toy-like look, the Honda is basically a bare frame and a motor. Its extreme minimalist style looks almost military, or like some industrial experiment on two wheels.

Where the friendly, cartoonish BWS 50 has the enclosed bin under the seat for storage, the Ruckus's spartan design means you have to bungee a soft-sided bag in the cage-like space below the seat, exposing it to the elements.

Neither is very comfortable. The Yamaha's seat slopes toward the front, with a foot well that seems too high and narrow, making it cramped for even my 5-foot-7 frame. The Honda has a short squat seat cushion that doesn't give much room to find a different riding position

Instrumentation? The BWS 50 has one bare needle speedometer and a needle fuel gauge and a couple of lights for high beams, turn signal and oil pressure.

The Ruckus just has a speedo and two lights – one for high beams and one for low fuel.

But the more important differences come when you're riding. The four-stroke engine is also 49 cc, but instead of jumping smartly off the line, it tends to smoothly accelerate away at a leisurely – sometimes too leisurely – pace.

That's no big deal on a crowded downtown street commuting in rush hour traffic. But it matters if you're pulling away from the lights on McCowan Ave. or Lake Shore Blvd. with a whole line of traffic behind you.

You twist the throttle of the Ruckus as hard open as you can, crouch behind the non-existent fairing and hope you don't hit a head wind.

Traffic, meanwhile, backs up behind you impatiently or, worse, cuts around you. Make no mistake – for those in cars, you are an impediment to progress.

Though both the Ruckus and BWS 50 handle well, the lack of juice at traffic speed means you lack nimbleness, which is one of the few benefits that come from being one of the smallest motorized vehicles on the road.

Yet limited speed motorcycles have some obvious attractions.

The small engine on the bikes gives them fuel-consumption figures impossible for a regular car, let alone an SUV.

The BWS 50 got about 3.3 L/100 km in a week of stop-and-go commuting, which almost makes you forget about the abysmal emissions that come from a two-stroke.

The Ruckus was not much more thirsty.

A scooter this size, no matter what make, also has a non-threatening air. It's an appealing bike to knock about the local neighbourhood, shopping for groceries (though where you'd store them on the Ruckus is a mystery) and parking almost anywhere you want with no penalty.

All this for a bike that costs less than what many people pay for gas in a year. The Yamaha BWS 50 costs $2,899, while Honda charges $2,849 for the Ruckus. Kymco's Vitality has a price tag of $2,299.

Even the lack of speed is not really an issue – it just imposes a different kind of riding strategy.

Instead of automatically taking what may be the fastest or most direct route, you're forced to think hard and plan the route that's possible for you to take. The trip becomes part of the adventure rather than just a means of getting there.

The 400-series highways and the Gardiner Expressway are out of the question, but for most people commuting around town that's more a benefit than a hardship.

Speed is relative. For some, not being able to go faster than 60 km/h on a scooter this small is scary. But for others it will be plenty fast enough.

Andrew Meeson is Wheels' Urban Commuter. He can be reached at ameeson@thestar.ca

More videos from Wheels.ca and our partners