Right, let’s talk about something rather special. Not a Ferrari. Not a Spitfire. Not even a particularly well-engineered teapot. No, today, we’re delving into something with two wheels, an 88.5cc two-stroke engine, and a history so steeped in nostalgia that it could make a grown man weep into his oily rag.
Enter the 1969 Vespa SS90 Super Sprint — a scooter of such rare and charming character that it makes most modern motorcycles look like microwaves on wheels.
Imagine, if you will, a scooter tucked away in a cellar for 40 years, untouched save for the occasional nudge from fate. It sounds like the kind of thing you’d find on one of those motoring restoration shows, where a grizzled mechanic wipes off decades of dust, fires up the engine, and immediately declares it ‘not bad, considering’.
Well, this particular Vespa, registration MGR 24G, was precisely that — a barn find in the truest sense, though in this case, the barn was more of a dry cellar, which is rather more civilised.
This SS90 was originally sold by Angelo’s Scooter Station in Newcastle upon Tyne on 30 May 1969. Angelo Strocco, a man with a name that sounds like he should have been racing Vespas rather than selling them, was the original proprietor of this shop and something of a local legend in the scooter world.
The SS90 was later bought back by Angelo himself in 1981 as a gift for his then-11-year-old grandson, the current vendor. That’s right — a child, gifted one of the rarest and most desirable Vespas ever made. Different times.
SS90: Built for Speed (Relatively Speaking)
The Vespa SS90 was no ordinary scooter. It was Piaggio’s attempt at making something a little sportier, a little racier — essentially a Vespa that didn’t just get you from A to B, but let you do so while imagining yourself as an Italian road racer.
Its key features included a dummy fuel tank (not for fuel, just to make it look more aggressive), a centrally located spare wheel, and a narrower, more aerodynamic fairing. Riders were encouraged to crouch low behind the headlight, reducing drag and increasing speed in a way that was, let’s be honest, more psychological than scientific. Still, the 88.5cc engine was good for a top speed of 58 mph, which in 1969 on 10-inch wheels probably felt like being strapped to a rocket.
What makes this particular SS90 extraordinary is not just its condition but its remarkable provenance. From its early days being sold in Newcastle, to its long period of slumber, every twist and turn of its history is accounted for. It was last properly used in the mid-1980s, during which time the vendor and his grandfather took it out on numerous excursions, including the occasional off-road adventure across a grass field (which, I suspect, contributed to the melted plastic cylinder head cover).
The speedometer currently reads just 1,481 miles—only 583 of those added since 1981. For perspective, that’s about the distance from London to Berlin, except spread out over four decades. Not exactly an epic journey, but still.
A Museum Piece That Still Works
Despite its years of dormancy, the scooter remains in surprisingly fine fettle. The engine runs beautifully, the clutch is still free, and all the original electrics, including the lights, horn, and engine cut-out, function as they should. This is an astonishing feat, given that many modern vehicles seem to disintegrate if left unattended for more than a fortnight.
A number of modifications were made over the years, but in the spirit of Italian craftsmanship, they all have a story. The scooter was resprayed metallic blue in the early ‘80s, a chrome headlight trim was added, and a replacement backrest was installed for safety — presumably to stop the young vendor from launching himself off the back during particularly enthusiastic rides.
Even the badges tell a tale, with a Spotlight Rally commemorative badge from 1979 and a ‘Spring Trip to Italy’ sticker, celebrating an event Angelo himself was too dedicated to his shop to attend. The kind of dedication, I might add, that is in rather short supply these days.
Before his passing in 2008, Angelo often urged the vendor to ‘do something’ with the scooter, rather than let it sit in storage. However, sentimental value is a tricky thing, and parting with something so rich in family history is no easy task.
Yet, as time marches on, the decision has been made to find the Vespa a new home—one that will appreciate its quirks, its history, and its continued ability to run despite four decades of being, essentially, a very stylish paperweight.
So, if you’re looking for a scooter with more charm than an entire dealership full of modern plastic-clad commuters, this could be your chance. Just be careful when crouching behind the headlight — it turns out, looking fast and actually going fast are two very different things.