Weary of her 13-year-old’s “attitude” whenever Ruth Johnsen borrowed her scooter for a spin around the block, Johnsen did the only thing any self-respecting, athletic adult would do in her situation: she plunked down the money for her own set of wheels-two, to be exact-and affixed, like her daughter’s, on a narrow arrow of aluminum not much wider than a 2-by-4.

Today, Johnsen is but a blur when tending to errands outside the Athenaeum, where she has been senior secretary for the past two years. She has crafted specific routes that bypass crash-inducing cracks in the walkways, and with swift kicks to accelerate, manages to keep in shape while shaving travel time across the CMC campus.

Johnsen, the daughter of missionaries and raised in Madagascar, is not alone in her quest to save time, stay active, and have fun with forms of transportation other than her feet. With back-to-school in full throttle, it’s just a matter of time before students whip out their skateboards and bicycles to wheel from class-to-class, or from one campus to another. At Harvey Mudd College to the north, a student here and there will even show up on a unicycle, performing what looks like a high-wire circus act without the safety net. And with fall comes mindful new recruits to the successful Rideshare program, TRiP (Transportation Reduction incentive Program), which motivated some 135 employees between July 2001 and June 2003 to use alternative transportation methods.

While Rideshare participants earn $1.50 per workday (Monday through Friday) for walking, bicycling, ridesharing or taking public transportation into work, “scooterists” and other such inventive campus cruisers are just happy to roll with the times. How do students react when they see Johnsen two-wheeling it? “If it’s the first time, “They’ll usually say, ‘Hey! There’s a teacher on a scooter!’” Johnsen says, laughing.

Johnsen protested wearing shoes as a child, and because she grew up on a motorcycle, there were plenty of days her feet barely even touched the ground-but that was another time, another country.

“My husband says I’d be road-kill if I had a motorcycle in California, as you kind of had the road to yourself in Madagascar,” Johnsen says. “So this is it. This scooter is the closest I can get to owning one. It’s also my break from the desk.”

The only enemy? Inclement weather, which can render sidewalks a slickery highway during rainfall. In such cases, exercise (with?) caution.

High heels are no match for Ruth Johnsen's scooter. "But you do have to have eye-hand coordination to ride," she says.

Johnsen not only uses her scooter to get across campus–she also scooters a half-block to church. "It's quite a workout," Johnsen says, "unless I'm going downhill."