Scooter enthusiasts meet behind JavaSpeed on North Main Street in Providence for the Wednesday night ride.

JOURNAL PHOTO / Steve Szydlowski

Woody Woodbury, 36, is a firefighter/paramedic in Canton, Mass., and a co-owner of JavaSpeed Scooters in Providence.

JOURNAL PHOTOS / STEVE SZYDLOWSKI

A Pattio scooter has a pirate flag hanging off the back fender at JavaSpeed in Providence.

Scooters waiting for repair are jammed into the back of the shop.

Two Vintage Vespa scooters behind JavaSpeed scooter shop on North Main Street in Providence. A group of scooter riders meet every Wednesday night for a ride.

Rich McKay of Pawtucket drives one of the biggest rigs on the road, and one of the smallest.

At night he delivers gasoline in an 18-wheeler and on his own time he can be found on one of his two motor scooters, a 2004 Aprilia Mojito Custom or a classic 1962 Lambretta LI 150. As president of Death or Glory, a small scooter club, he has a handle on the complexities of scootering. For those who ride, it’s not just about getting around, but getting along.

There are several natural rivalries. Scooters versus motorcycles. Scooters versus four-wheel vehicles. Clubs versus shops. Modern bikes versus the classics. Commuters versus the fun riders. But there are few if any clashes, and tolerance abounds. Scootering is a culture unto itself, with several sub-cultures.

“It’s so diverse and hard to pin down,” McKay says. “The spectrum is all over the place. Our intensity and devotion can be a turnoff to people.”

Clubs emerged as a way for scooterists to swap ideas, know-how and possibly parts in areas where there weren’t many shops. Now there are a number of clubs and shops, sometimes serving the same mission, and some riders affix their loyalty to one or the other.

But Greg Woodbury of Hyde Park, Mass. manages to straddle the issue. He’s a co-owner of JavaSpeed Scooters on North Main Street in Providence and is president of the Boston Stranglers club, a group of hardcore vintage riders. “There’s always a little friction,” he says. “We make fun of each other, but it’s all in good fun. You gotta have a sense of humor. They’re just scooters, after all.”

Woodbury, 36 — everyone calls him Woody — repairs vintage scooters at JavaSpeed and has a full-time job as a firefighter/paramedic in Canton, Mass. “I started the Stranglers back in 1991 when there were hardly any scooters on the road, especially vintage scooters,” he said. “Back then if you couldn’t fix things you couldn’t ride. Now if you’re not able to rebuild an engine you can still own a bike.”

There are 10 hardcore Stranglers and about 10 others who go to some events, Woodbury said. Members meet every Sunday night at a restaurant in Allston, Mass., and club rides are intermittent. “We’re heavy into rallies and shows,” Woodbury said. “It’s more of a weekend camping and get-together thing. Four of our members took a tour of Europe this summer, 1,500 miles in a week. They bought their bikes there and are shipping them back.”

Most of the members of both Death or Glory and Stranglers have nicknames as part of their alternate scooter personas. McKay, 33, is known as “Ogre,” which he says comes from the Shrek movies. “A lot of people have nicknames anyway,” he says. “You are dubbed into our club with a nickname — like the Delta House fraternity of scootering — but there is no hazing. Anyone who has gone through what scooterists go through has been through enough.”

The nickname/alternate persona thing is probably a cover-up for what many people would consider a given: scooter riders are nerds. “I don’t go around saying I’m a nerd but I would agree that I am one,” says McKay, who is also a leather worker and artist. “It’s easier to have a threatening logo than to be a threatening person.”

“People who are drawn to this are somewhat odd,” agrees Woodbury. “Fanatics for anything tend to be out of step with the rest of the world. The more you do this the more hardcore you get.”

For Mike Scott of Westerly, who works at Amica in Lincoln, the Wednesday night rides at JavaSpeed are as close to a club as he wants to get. “It’s like a Rhode Island thing,” he said. “It’s sort of being organized without being organized. No one wants to say they’re a part of this or that group, they want to be individuals. When you get into the club mentality, it starts being, now what are the rules?

“I’m 43, and when I was in college, if you had a tattoo you were a renegade. Now you’re a renegade if you don’t have one.”

The shop rides at JavaSpeed are open to anyone who shows up, and the destination is decided on the spur of the moment. Sometimes there are 8 or so riders, other times 17 or 18. Food is usually part of the plan. “The ride often ends on Thayer Street for a slice of pizza,” Scott says. “In March or April we’ll be the only ones there, but on the first warm summer day suddenly all these Harleys will be there.”

McKay figures there are two kinds of scooter owners, those who want to avoid high gas prices and those who are addicted. “If you’re bitten by the bug it’s an obsession,” he says. Comedian Jerry Seinfeld, who has a collection of scooters, is addicted, McKay says, as is actor Matthew Broderick.

As for clubs, McKay wouldn’t mind if there were a few more in Rhode Island. “And I’d love for our club to grow,” he said. “Mad Ron’s ex-wife got a bike and wants to join. How weird is that? But we’re like one big extended family.”

For more information, go to javaspeed.net, dogsc.com or bostonstrangers.com