It takes a lot to catch the jaded eye of a typical New Yorker. But here we are in the metropolis astride Piaggio's second wave of funky 3-wheeled MP3 scooters, drawing long stares everywhere we go. One urban hipster eyeing the passel of Piaggios exclaims, with just the right amount of mock irony, "Are you guys from the future?"

In the burgeoning maxi-scooter market, Piaggio's BV500 is more classically styled than the company's X9 or other more sportbike-inspired competitors. The front exhibits classic scooter design cues, but the rear has been transmogrified into a touring motorcycle. Is this the ingenious creation of an enlightened product development team, or has someone slipped a Vespa two-stroke steroids?

The view from the top of the "steepest road in Texas" is, well, OK. San Antonio lies out there somewhere in the hazy distance, as an early October sun pegs the thermostat at 90+ degrees. Riders from similarly "mountainous" states - like Kansas and Delaware - may be impressed, but as soon as I've chugged down a bottle of water, I'm ready to go.

It's amazing how a few years of separation can inspire a whole new outlook on things previously unnoticed. Having grown up in Annapolis, Maryland, I was aware of the region's deep historic roots. But, like most teenagers, my coming of age concerns centered on girls, parties, and bikes. The Eastern Shore was that place across the bay you had to ride through to get to Ocean City and the beach for the girls, parties, and bikes.

What a way to start a trip. My first flight delayed, I have to change airlines, go through the 'special interest' security screening, endure a two-hour layover in Dallas, and when I land in Los Angeles, I have to ride a scooter. How bad can it be?