The '90s Mod Squad : Trends: Today's scooter rallies bring together a smaller, older crowd. But for many riders, their hearts are in the past.

By ROSE APODACA

May 31, 1991 12 AM PT

SPECIAL TO THE TIMES

Memories of the freedom of youth, hot summer nights and the wind blowing through their hair have Southland motor scooter enthusiasts revving up their Vespas and Lambrettas and hitting the rally trail.

About three dozen riders took to the streets in Costa Mesa last Sunday. The scooter brigade ended at Goodies Nightclub in Fullerton, which was hosting a 12-hour concert featuring Mod, ska and post-punk bands.

Almost 100 owners of the Italian-made scooters convened in late April at Anaheim’s Go Fast Scooters shop for the first of several summer rallies. They traveled to San Diego for an overnight camp-out, complete with a live concert and scooter competition.

But unlike the rallies of several years ago that attracted hundreds of riders, scooter rallies today bring together a smaller, older crowd.

Older--as in people past their early 20s.

It wasn’t the same scene in the early ‘80s, when many teen-agers who became involved in the Mod movement imitated the original one of the ‘60s by wearing tailored suits, adopting a holier-than-thou attitude and riding Piaggio-designed Vespa or Lambretta scooters.

But most of those teens found that the Modernist manifesto that emphasized youth, rebellion and change became more difficult to follow as they grew older. The Mod lifestyle interfered with their career and family responsibilities, so the pegged slacks ended up in the cedar trunk and the scooter was parked in the garage.

In the last year, however, those still Mod-at-heart have been dusting off their old bikes, realizing it is possible to grow up without growing old. Joining them are people who just love riding the machines.

“Everyone who went on the rallies five years ago were Mods. Now everyone belongs to every scene under the sun,” said Greg Clauss, 23, as he panned the crowd at last month’s rally.

A self-described “retired Mod” who no longer dons the 1960s-style suits, Clauss said he will always keep the spirit of youth and love the music associated with the movement. The San Clemente resident has owned a dozen Vespa scooters since he was 15; he currently has four.

Like Clauss, Erick Larson holds on to his ideals and memories of youth, although he’s now the father of a 3-year-old girl and an 8-month-old boy. “We don’t lose what Mod meant to us, but life goes on.”

Larson, 24, is the owner of Go Fast Scooters, which he opened in 1986. In recent months, his business has been improving.

“Last year, I almost went out of business, but this year it’s booming,” he said. “I’ve been servicing bikes that have been parked from two to five years, and the owners range from old Mods to just older people.”

He worked on 58 scooters last month, and he expects the summer to get even busier.

Just three miles away from Go Fast Scooters is the place where Larson got his experience--Scooterville, USA. The 41-year-old scooter shop, the oldest authorized Piaggio dealer in the U.S., has also seen its business increase--by about 30%. More scooters are being brought in for repair that have been sitting around for years, according to manager Scott Chain.

“We have certainly been replacing lots of rusty gas tanks,” he said.

Chain, 28, a real estate/mortgage loan representative, continues to work at his family’s business and repair his own scooters, he said, as a hobby.

Chain remembers the Mod, Mod world in Southern California, when giant rallies brought 300 to 500 riders to events sponsored by his shop and local scooter clubs. It’s not like that anymore, but, Chain said, scooter lovers still have heart. “It’s like a family almost. You know everyone for years, and what we all have in common is a true love for scooters.”

Chain’s mother, Judy, who purchased the shop in 1976 from the original owners, compares the renewed interest in Vespas to the longtime fascination with vintage automobiles or motorcycles.

“When I was a teen-ager, the boys were into working on rigged-up Chevys with red flames . . . .” said the 49-year-old. “This is just another nostalgic resurgence for the kids in their 20s.”

The Mod movement originated in London in 1962 as an alternative to the greasy, leather-garbed Rockers who rode around on loud motorcycles. Mods (derived from the term Modernist) adopted The Who’s “My Generation” as their anthem in 1965.

The release of The Who film “Quadrophenia” in 1979 signaled the second coming of Mod, spreading from London to Los Angeles as part nostalgia and part nouveau.

But long before Vespa and Lambretta scooters became a symbol for the Mods, they were a part of growing up in the United States. The motorbikes were imported from Italy in the early 1950s.

For Hermosa Beach resident George Kuhn, 28, his 1964 Grand Sport 160 represents youth--not just his own, but that of anyone who has memories of once riding a Vespa as a teen-ager. “My greatest joy is the smile it evokes from people who were kids during the ‘50s and ‘60s and owned scooters. They come up to me and start relating their stories of when they were young,” he said. “It’s a piece of history.”

Kuhn, a sales consultant, said he had wanted a GS (Good Sport) since The Who sang about it more than 15 years ago and then spotlighted it as the ultimate scooter in “Quadrophenia.” Out of college, he purchased his “baby” in 1987 and began riding in rallies last year to meet other “scooter enthusiasts,” a label used by people who don’t want to be pigeonholed as following any subculture or lifestyle.

Scooters may be the only chains that bind them.

“The common denominator here is the bikes. It’s a fascination with the machine,” said Riverside-resident David Stark, 22, kicking back on his 1980 silver Vespa P125X. “Scooters attract all kinds of people--they’re the equalizer among today’s myriad culture.”

Waid Parker, 52, rode up from San Diego for the recent Anaheim rally. Nicknamed “Scooter Daddy,” Parker has been an enthusiast since 1954 when he bought a 1948 Cushman Vespa; his interest was rejuvenated in 1983 when his son became a Mod. He now owns seven scooters, including a 1958 Vespa 150 that is scheduled to go on a six-month exhibit at the San Diego Automotive Museum.

As a computer auditor in the Navy who travels internationally, Parker is always searching for hard-to-find parts. “I have an address book full of Vespa riders from all over the world, and I still try to keep in contact with most of them.”

Parker follows the rallies in his truck, hauling any extra baggage and picking up scooters that have broken down. “I stay out of the kids’ way during their parties at the end of the rallies,” he said, “and join them when it’s time to talk scooters or if they need help.”

Parker is a member of the Old Bastards Scooter Club. Memberships to the informal club were sold through “ Scootering “ magazine out of England last year. The club’s satirical motto no doubt heralds the aging teen-age Mods of the early 1980s: “Life begins at 24.”

Like many others who have been observing the evolving scooter scene, Parker said the trend now is collecting and restoring scooters that are more than 25 years old, as well as racing modified scooters.

Rebuilding and restoring are part of life for U.S. Vespa or Lambretta owners, since the last model year Piaggio sold here was 1981. In that year, a law was passed in California prohibiting street-legal two stroke engines of 50cc and larger, because they burn a gas and oil mixture that gives off more pollutants. Because 90% of the company’s U.S. business was in California (accounting for just 2% of the company’s international business), Piaggio decided to pull out of the United States.

Most enthusiasts now only see the latest models in pictures the company sends to the few parts and service shops that have managed to keep their doors open.

Instead of turning to the environmentally approved Riva or Honda scooters, Vespa enthusiasts take pride in the style and durability of the Italian scooters. “Besides,” Larson adds, “there’s no heritage to bikes like (Rivas or Hondas); they’re all copies of the Vespa anyway.”

The reliability of the Italian scooters is a big attraction, according to Go Fast’s Larson. “They’re probably the most reliable scooters ever made for the fact that they are built to be rebuilt. They’ll last 30,000 miles and you can rebuild the motor and go another 30,000.”

Racing modified, high-performance scooters has been speeding forward in popularity since the American Scooter Racing Assn. officially formed in 1987, two years after the original members of the San Diego-based organization began taking scooters to the track. Although racing scooters has been going on in England for more than 15 years, it did not catch on in the United States until the Mod scene peaked. After years of cruising the streets on scooters loaded down with a dozen or more accessory mirrors and lights, a few crafty Mods decided to test the endurance of their machines.

Depending on the size of the track, speeds range from 50 to 95 m.p.h.; about 20 races are scheduled a year at any one of three Southland tracks.

Although the rallies, which will continue monthly through the summer, will be dominated more by scooter enthusiasts than Mods, they will still be organized by Mod-based scooter clubs such as the Ace Club. The seven-member club recently organized “Agronicity III,” a concert and contest that attracted about 400 people.

Ace Club members adhere to the Modernist philosophy, although not all of them continue to dress the part. Jean-Paul Rondeau, 24, started the club in 1986, four years after joining the Mod scene. Both he and his girlfriend, Celoa Bly, 22, own early-1960s Lambrettas; Bly, however, said she was never a Mod.

Rondeau’s sideburns and casual dress contrast with fellow-Ace member Brian Calkin, 22, a die-hard Mod who still wears his hair in a French A-line cut and dons a two-piece tailored suit for the rally. “I ride because I love scooters. And I’m still a Mod in here,” Rondeau said, pointing to his heart.

Like the others, he’s still young and wild at heart.