Speed merchants usually go for big Japanese fours but I
opted for a walk on the wild side - a used Ducati 888! Why? Well a series
of so-called Japanese superbikes had left a bad taste in my mouth. Not because
they were unreliable or slow or anything you could point a particular finger
at, just that all they offered was speed. After a while, it simply wasn't
enough. Enter a lovingly cared for Ducati 888 vee-twin. The owner was the
kind of fanatic that dreams are made of - he spent an hour interrogating
me before I was let loose on the machine. He would only sell to the right
kind of chap! This is pretty typical of Ducati owners, despite the huge
wedge involved.
The 888 is a beast of a motorcycle. Though it doesn't actually
vibrate as such, it's a raw old thing that communicates the nuances of the
combustion process directly to the rider in a way that a straight four could
never emulate. A brief ride left me astonished at the fluidity of its vee-twin
motor and wondering just what I'd let myself in for. The punch when I whacked
open the throttle for the first time almost broke my back in two; the subtle
difference between the outrageous torque of a vee and excessive power of
a four. I practically had to force the money on to the vendor, who clocking
my shining mug must've relived the highs of his own ownership and become
suddenly reluctant to part with the 888.
Reality is a harsh bedfellow. The next day I found that
the watercooled motor was reluctant to rev beyond 6000rpm. I phoned the
old owner up who reckoned he'd never experienced such symptoms, added that
he was about to go to Australia for the next six months so I shouldn't waste
my time phoning him again! There followed several visits to people who reckoned
they were Ducati dealers but didn't appear to have much of an idea of what
was going down in the complex array of electronics and high tech metal that
the 888 represented.
The bike would rumble along nicely enough at low revs but
lacked the kicks I'd experienced on the test ride. I eventually found a
Ducati expert who deduced that the previous owner had bodged the exhaust's
baffles with some GRP that had soon been eaten up by the heat. He sat me
gently down in a seat before revealing how much a new exhaust system would
cost - a few taps with his hammer revealed that the old one was so far gone
that there was no easy reclamation. He even offered to buy the bike off
me, obviously reckoning that as a Ducati novice I didn't really know what
I'd let myself in for. I got in hock with the bank and decided the good
times were only a minor financial embarrassment away.
Fortunately, the expert had been correct in his diagnosis
- these seemingly simple motors are actually more complex and finicky than
the Japanese fours, one minor problem causing the whole to be rendered useless.
With the new exhaust I was soon in seventh heaven, revelling in the bike's
manic acceleration, glorious exhaust note and heavenly handling.
It took three weeks for the clutch to start giving trouble.
Ducati clutches are notorious weak spots in an otherwise sophisticated design.
It'd always been a bit grabby and noisy but it soon became really annoying,
dragging in town and slipping whenever I went over 7000 revs - which was
often, such was the intoxicating mix of power, torque and handling! I could
run rings around bikes like the CBR900 in the tighter bends. The good life
redefined. And such was the gutsy nature of the beast I never came close
to boredom city.
Eventually, the clutch was burnt out to a cinder. Refused
to work at all. The expert was called in, who just smiled and demanded another
large wedge. He also informed me that it was time for the desmo valves to
be done and that the piston rings were nearing their wear limits. He came
up with a four figure sum to put the motor to rights and wasn't surprised
to find my jaw aligned with my belly-button! This time I took his offer
of money seriously; if the loss was slight, the relief was great! For all
the Ducati's serious sensations I always had the feeling I was close to
complete mechanical disaster. If I could afford it, though, I'd buy a new
916 - like yesterday!
Dave Williams