[Ducati] Fw: Confessions (part 4)

Tue Jul 4 06:30:30 EDT 2006

Frenzied rice rocket does not descibe most of the Japanese MCs I have owned. Esp RC51. RVF400, NSR250, RD400, RZ350,CBR600F2, VFR750,CB700SC, SV650, ZX6R, Hawk GT, CBR900, 929, 954,  to name a few. All great and none a frenzied rice rocket. There are lots of good bikes out there. Ducati is just one.
Still for me it started with old 900SS. The MHR, then F1....then Paso showed signs of life for Ducati. Anyway, lots of bikes to love...never met one I did not like at least a little. Rich

----- Original Message ----
From: Ted & Vicki Brisbine <brisbine at charter.net>
To: ducati at ducati.net
Sent: Tuesday, July 4, 2006 1:14:40 AM
Subject: [Ducati] Fw: Confessions (part 4)

She wore a red dress and spoke Italian

As the years marched by, I had little interest in any of the Japanese motorcycles that came and went. I didn't want a frenzied rice rocket that begged to be revved to the moon in order to extract enormous power. I didn't dare risk a repeat of the Yamaha debacle. I was only interested in new BMWs until in 1987 I read a magazine test on a modern exotic called the Cagiva 650 Alazzurra. A wealthy Italian industrial family, the Castiglionis, had rescued Ducati from impending doom and were selling bikes under the name of Cagiva. The Alluzura was wrapped in attractive bodywork and, rather than a nervous four cylinder motor, it had a galloping V-twin. I thought to myself that this might be a modern bike I could live with. Somehow I had missed the whole Ducati V-twin era during the 70's and the legendary racing successes of Paul Smart, Mike Hailwood, and Old Blue. I may have read about the revered old 900SS but never considered giving up the reliability of my BMW for some finicky
 Italian job with a narrow board-like seat. I was comfortably ensconced in my Zen thing and felt lucky to have found a bike I could keep "forever," and which cost me almost nothing while I was raising a batch of kids.

In the late eighties another bike caught my eye. The Castiglioni brothers had built another fully faired and even more seductive bike than the Alazzurra, and this time used the Ducati name. The 750 Paso was something to behold. The descriptions I read of its motor, with a pounding heartbeat and throaty baritone voice, were definitely having an effect on me. I began to wonder what it might be like to have a bike that could be shifted with a snick rather than the Beemer's characteristic crunching noises, which cause passers-by to look for gear parts falling onto the road. Another bit of info I had previously filed away in memory now came to the fore. While attending a world championship motorcycle Observed Trial in the mid 80's, I had actually seen the allusive V-twin Ducati. A guy in our group had put 100,000 miles on his Duc. This was not uncommon for a BMW but was impressive for an Italian bike. I later bought a coffee table book called Dream Bikes, with full-page photos
 of gorgeous motorcycles. All but one were custom creations from around the world. The lone production bike that made the editor's cut? Ducati 750 Paso. Dream was right. I was pouring every cent I had onto the building of our new home and a brand-new motorcycle seemed a distant fantasy. I'm a pretty good daydreamer however, and the Paso figured prominently in a few of them.

One fine day in 1992 an amazing thing happened. From the very voluptuous lips of my amazingly wondrous wife Vicki, fell these words. "I think you should buy a new bike." To borrow a line from Forrest Gump. "I'm not a smart man, but I know what love is." Vicki, I take back every syllable of that border guard remark. I'm also smart enough to know not to let the embers die on an opportunity like this. Time for a foraging excursion to the bike shops of Seattle.

Actually it was more of a B-line for the BMW shop at Green Lake. Practically speaking, only a new BMW made sense. The shifting was much better now - no worried looks from people on the sidewalk. I was curious about two models and tested them both. First came the K75S. Nice modern look, peppy three cylinder motor, but . are you sure this is a reciprocating, internal combustion engine and not something built by General Electric? I guess that smooth little whine is just what some people are looking for but I'm kind of used to a bike with a heartbeat. Next, I'm roaring around Green Lake on a R100GS. Now this is more like it. The familiar thrum of an opposed twin. I could feel every reciprocation, but in a mellow, soothing way - like it was taking one side of an enjoyable conversation. The GS is a sit-up-and-take-in-the-sights kind of motorcycle. A kind of two-wheeled Great Dane. I was tearing around on what amounts to a 1000cc dirt bike and loving it. Time to get serious and
 make a decision.

On the next trip I brought Vicki with me to help choose the bike that may have to last the rest of my life. (Where have I heard that before?) First we rode the GS and both liked it. Then I ask if there are any Ducati shops in Seattle. This had the edge of heresy about it but I just had to satisfy my curiosity and find out how they really looked and sounded and felt. Bellevue Suzuki-Ducati had several to choose from. By now the 750 Paso had evolved into the 906 Paso and again into the 907ie. Massimo Tamburini's blood-red bodywork made this thing a rolling work of art. It also looked to be the only Duc with a rear seat anyone would want to sit on. I had to make sure the impetus for this foray into the modern bike-world could accompany me on a ride. Soon I was charging up residential cul-de-sacs around Lake Sammamish at unmentionable speeds and this stocky little raging bull was playing Vivaldi though the pipes. How two cylinders manage to sound like the distant drum roll of a
 Boss 302 V-8 winding up on high-octane gasoline, I don't know. This Italian Stallion was sex on wheels. I've never had an extramarital affair but this was beginning to feel like one. Would my beloved Beemer back home ever forgive me? Oh hell, who cares? This feels too good. Mama mia, help! No, don't. Whew! The guilt is too much. I'd better go back and pick up Vicki.

The following week found me in an excruciatingly enjoyable, nail biting, brochure shuffling dilemma. The GS or the 907? Passion or practicality? Blood-red lust or earthy adventure? Paganini or Wagner? Vicki finally tipped the scales with a seductive comparison between riding the Ducati and making love. See? I'm not the only one. The Duc has proven to be an utterly reliable mistress. In my more mature years I don't dare mention any of the numerical details of our romps together but she still sings my favorite arias. As a postscript, Keith bought that very GS a week later and we enjoyed some fine rides together. A fitting reconciliation of German and Italian mechanical philosophy.

The End

Well, not really.  The story goes on - I hope for a long time.  My great uncle Engebret is said to have ridden till he was 80.  I never met him but he remains my inspiration.  I haven't mentioned the the dirt bikes I've had in recent years such as the XR600, KTM 450EXC, and the Fantic and Beta trials bikes I used to ride.  I may sell the 907 some day but I think I'll always have a Ducati.  My blood is red you know.

Ted

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