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Hunter S. Thompson on the Ducati 900

Song of the Sausage Creature
by Hunter S. Thompson

 


There are some things nobody needs in this world, and a bright-red, hunch-back, warp-speed 900cc cafe racer is one of them - but I want one anyway, and on some days I actually believe I need one. That is why they are dangerous.

Everybody has fast motorcycles these days. Some people go 150 miles an hour on two-lane blacktop roads, but not often. There are too many oncoming trucks and too many radar cops and too many stupid animals in the way. You have to be a little crazy to ride these super-torque high-speed crotch rockets anywhere except a racetrack - and even there, they will scare the whimpering shit out of you... There is, after all, not a pig's eye worth of difference between going head-on into a Peterbilt or sideways into the bleachers. On some days you get what you want, and on others, you get what you need.

When Cycle World called me to ask if I would road-test the new Harley Road King, I got uppity and said I'd rather have a Ducati superbike. It seemed like a chic decision at the time, and my friends on the superbike circuit got very excited. "Hot damn," they said. "We will take it to the track and blow the bastards away."

"Balls," I said. "Never mind the track. The track is for punks. We are Road People. We are Cafe Racers."

The Cafe Racer is a different breed, and we have our own situations. Pure speed in sixth gear on a 5000-foot straightaway is one thing, but pure speed in third gear on a gravel-strewn downhill ess-turn is quite another.

But we like it. A thoroughbred Cafe Racer will ride all night through a fog storm in freeway traffic to put himself into what somebody told him was the ugliest and tightest decreasing-radius turn since Genghis Khan invented the corkscrew.

Cafe Racing is mainly a matter of taste. It is an atavistic mentality, a peculiar mix of low style, high speed, pure dumbness, and overweening commitment to the Cafe Life and all its dangerous pleasures... I am a Cafe Racer myself, on some days - and it is one of my finest addictions.

 

 

 

I am not without scars on my brain and my body, but I can live with them. I still feel a shudder in my spine every time I see a picture of a Vincent Black Shadow, or when I walk into a public restroom and hear crippled men whispering about the terrifying Kawasaki Triple... I have visions of compound femur-fractures and large black men in white hospital suits holding me down on a gurney while a nurse called "Bess" sews the flaps of my scalp together with a stitching drill.

 

 

 

Ho, ho. Thank God for these flashbacks. The brain is such a wonderful instrument (until God sinks his teeth into it). Some people hear Tiny Tim singing when they go under, and some others hear the song of the Sausage Creature.

 

 

 

When the Ducati turned up in my driveway, nobody knew what to do with it. I was in New York, covering a polo tournament, and people had threatened my life. My lawyer said I should give myself up and enroll in the Federal Witness Protection Program. Other people said it had something to do with the polo crowd.

The motorcycle business was the last straw. It had to be the work of my enemies, or people who wanted to hurt me. It was the vilest kind of bait, and they knew I would go for it.

Of course. You want to cripple the bastard? Send him a 130-mph cafe-racer. And include some license plates, he'll think it's a streetbike. He's queer for anything fast.

Which is true. I have been a connoisseur of fast motorcycles all my life. I bought a brand-new 650 BSA Lightning when it was billed as "the fastest motorcycle ever tested by Hot Rod magazine." I have ridden a 500-pound Vincent through traffic on the Ventura Freeway with burning oil on my legs and run the Kawa 750 Triple through Beverly Hills at night with a head full of acid... I have ridden with Sonny Barger and smoked weed in biker bars with Jack Nicholson, Grace Slick, Ron Zigler and my infamous old friend, Ken Kesey, a legendary Cafe Racer.

Some people will tell you that slow is good - and it may be, on some days - but I am here to tell you that fast is better. I've always believed this, in spite of the trouble it's caused me. Being shot out of a cannon will always be better than being squeezed out of a tube. That is why God made fast motorcycles, Bubba....

So when I got back from New York and found a fiery red rocket-style bike in my garage, I realized I was back in the road-testing business.

The brand-new Ducati 900 Campione del Mundo Desmodue Supersport double-barreled magnum Cafe Racer filled me with feelings of lust every time I looked at it. Others felt the same way. My garage quickly became a magnet for drooling superbike groupies. They quarreled and bitched at each other about who would be the first to help me evaluate my new toy... And I did, of course, need a certain spectrum of opinions, besides my own, to properly judge this motorcycle. The Woody Creek Perverse Environmental Testing Facility is a long way from Daytona or even top-fuel challenge-sprints on the Pacific Coast Highway, where teams of big-bore Kawasakis and Yamahas are said to race head-on against each other in death-defying games of "chicken" at 100 miles an hour....

No. Not everybody who buys a high-dollar torque-brute yearns to go out in a ball of fire on a public street in L.A. Some of us are decent people who want to stay out of the emergency room, but still blast through neo-gridlock traffic in residential districts whenever we feel like it... For that we need Fine Machinery.

Which we had - no doubt about that. The Ducati people in New Jersey had opted, for some reasons of their own, to send me the 900ss-sp for testing - rather than their 916 crazy-fast, state-of-the-art superbike track-racer. It was far too fast, they said - and prohibitively expensive - to farm out for testing to a gang of half-mad Colorado cowboys who think they're world-class Cafe Racers.

The Ducati 900 is a finely engineered machine. My neighbors called it beautiful and admired its racing lines. The nasty little bugger looked like it was going 90 miles an hour when it was standing still in my garage.

Taking it on the road, though, was a genuinely terrifying experience. I had no sense of speed until I was going 90 and coming up fast on a bunch of pickup trucks going into a wet curve along the river. I went for both brakes, but only the front one worked, and I almost went end over end. I was out of control staring at the tailpipe of a U.S. Mail truck, still stabbing frantically at my rear brake pedal, which I just couldn't find... I am too tall for these new-age roadracers; they are not built for any rider taller than five-nine, and the rearset brake pedal was not where I thought it would be. Mid-size Italian pimps who like to race from one cafe to another on the boulevards of Rome in a flat-line prone position might like this, but I do not.

I was hunched over the tank like a person diving into a pool that got emptied yesterday. Whacko! Bashed on the concrete bottom, flesh ripped off, a Sausage Creature with no teeth, fucked-up for the rest of its life.

 

 

 

We all love Torque, and some of us have taken it straight over the high side from time to time - and there is always Pain in that... But there is also Fun, the deadly element, and Fun is what you get when you screw this monster on. BOOM! Instant take-off, no screeching or squawking around like a fool with your teeth clamping down on our tongue and your mind completely empty of everything but fear.

No. This bugger digs right in and shoots you straight down the pipe, for good or ill.

On my first take-off, I hit second gear and went through the speed limit on a two-lane blacktop highway full of ranch traffic. By the time I went up to third, I was going 75 and the tach was barely above 4000 rpm....

And that's when it got its second wind. From 4000 to 6000 in third will take you from 75 mph to 95 in two seconds - and after that, Bubba, you still have fourth, fifth, and sixth. Ho, ho.

I never got to sixth gear, and I didn't get deep into fifth. This is a shameful admission for a full-bore Cafe Racer, but let me tell you something, old sport: This motorcycle is simply too goddamn fast to ride at speed in any kind of normal road traffic unless you're ready to go straight down the centerline with your nuts on fire and a silent scream in your throat.

When aimed in the right direction at high speed, though, it has unnatural capabilities. This I unwittingly discovered as I made my approach to a sharp turn across some railroad tracks, saw that I was going way too fast and that my only chance was to veer right and screw it on totally, in a desperate attempt to leapfrog the curve by going airborne.

It was a bold and reckless move, but it was necessary. And it worked: I felt like Evel Knievel as I soared across the tracks with the rain in my eyes and my jaws clamped together in fear. I tried to spit down on the tracks as I passed them, but my mouth was too dry... I landed hard on the edge of the road and lost my grip for a moment as the Ducati began fishtailing crazily into oncoming traffic. For two or three seconds I came face to face with the Sausage Creature....

But somehow the brute straightened out. I passed a schoolbus on the right and got the bike under control long enough to gear down and pull off into an abandoned gravel driveway where I stopped and turned off the engine. My hands had seized up like claws and the rest of my body was numb. I felt nauseous and I cried for my mama, but nobody heard, then I went into a trance for 30 or 40 seconds until I was finally able to light a cigarette and calm down enough to ride home. I was too hysterical to shift gears, so I went the whole way in first at 40 miles an hour.

 

 

 

Whoops! What am I saying? Tall stories, ho, ho... We are motorcycle people; we walk tall and we laugh at whatever's funny. We shit on the chests of the Weird....

But when we ride very fast motorcycles, we ride with immaculate sanity. We might abuse a substance here and there, but only when it's right. The final measure of any rider's skill is the inverse ratio of his preferred Traveling Speed to the number of bad scars on his body. It is that simple: If you ride fast and crash, you are a bad rider. And if you are a bad rider, you should not ride motorcycles.

The emergence of the superbike has heightened this equation drastically. Motorcycle technology has made such a great leap forward. Take the Ducati. You want optimum cruising speed on this bugger? Try 90mph in fifth at 5500 rpm - and just then, you see a bull moose in the middle of the road. WHACKO. Meet the Sausage Creature.

Or maybe not: The Ducati 900 is so finely engineered and balanced and torqued that you *can* do 90 mph in fifth through a 35-mph zone and get away with it. The bike is not just fast - it is *extremely* quick and responsive, and it *will* do amazing things... It is like riding a Vincent Black Shadow, which would outrun an F-86 jet fighter on the take-off runway, but at the end, the F-86 would go airborne and the Vincent would not, and there was no point in trying to turn it. WHAMO! The Sausage Creature strikes again.

There is a fundamental difference, however, between the old Vincents and the new breed of superbikes. If you rode the Black Shadow at top speed for any length of time, you would almost certainly die. That is why there are not many life members of the Vincent Black Shadow Society. The Vincent was like a bullet that went straight; the Ducati is like the magic bullet in Dallas that went sideways and hit JFK and the Governor of Texas at the same time.

It was impossible. But so was my terrifying sideways leap across the railroad tracks on the 900sp. The bike did it easily with the grace of a fleeing tomcat. The landing was so easy I remember thinking, goddamnit, if I had screwed it on a little more I could have gone a lot farther.

Maybe this is the new Cafe Racer macho. My bike is so much faster than yours that I dare you to ride it, you lame little turd. Do you have the balls to ride this BOTTOMLESS PIT OF TORQUE?

That is the attitude of the new-age superbike freak, and I am one of them. On some days they are about the most fun you can have with your clothes on. The Vincent just killed you a lot faster than a superbike will. A fool couldn't ride the Vincent Black Shadow more than once, but a fool can ride a Ducati 900 many times, and it will always be a bloodcurdling kind of fun. That is the Curse of Speed which has plagued me all my life. I am a slave to it. On my tombstone they will carve, "IT NEVER GOT FAST ENOUGH FOR ME."

Compressed Air Engine

http://thekneeslider.com/archives/2010/01/12/airhead-air-powered-motorcycle-design-concept/

Closing Time for Moto Guzzi?

 I guess is the proper phrase. If the information received is correct, Guzzi is no longer making motorcycles in Mandello del Lario. What a blow that must be for that gorgeous town with its friendly people. And what a long way the brand has gone since 1919 and 1921. The original founders had a vision that the brand should help the town that made it so prosperous. They wanted to build motorcycles that were sturdy and easy to maintain. Reliable and the racing machines had to be innovative. The V-twin was designed as a machine that should be easy to maintain, easy to build, and easy to operate whilst giving moderate perfomance. When a dentist showed he could do magic with Guzzi, he got the job to do it, and he did. Just like Carcano was brought in at the racing dept. in the 1930s, just like Carlo Guzzi showed the father of Giorgio Parodi. The founders had their own philosophy how to build bikes and where to do it. It came out of passion, and that passion fuelled the birth of so many machines, and led to so many incredibly impressive racing machines.

That passion wanted to keep the factory where it was born, full of tradition, and the only safe place left where the original ideas of the founders still would be brought into the models that so many times were perceived by their designers for their riders. Guzzi Production has left Mandello. Ciao Guzzi. It was fun, thank you so much for staying there so long and making such a wonderful destination for countless trips. Thanks for providing a place to meet new and old friends. A place to show my kids, like my father showed me, like his father showed him.

Guzzi as I knew always have known it, is gone. I just cannot get over it but I think I am one of the few. But I still keep dreaming and hoping for that new Guzzi that looks like a Guzzi, handles like a Guzzi, can be maintained like a Guzzi and is durable as a Guzzi. And maybe it will be produced in Mandello. But ah well people, it lasted 90 years.

It is odd how lifelong cornerstone values can simply change. I really wonder who really cares though. But the people that work for Guzzi in Mandello, so many of them so proud of the brand, sometimes people with the 3RD generation already working for Guzzi, so passionate and always helpful for the non local Guzzi riders visiting their village and their factory; they are the ones that really suffer as their livelihood is in danger. And for all of us that have enjoyed their incredible hospitality; have learned to really appreciate the brands’ history; and have learned about the incredible dynamics of the way it created friendships and even families worldwide; for all of us it has left an uncomfortable void of a time that you knew once was, but never will return again.

Ivar de Gier

 

Hi all,

This topic has raised some issues and questions that I perhaps can enlighten.

First of all, the fact that right now Guzzi is not producing motorcycles in Mandello is nothing new. On this forum, Mike Harper posted a topic on June 19, 2009, which shows the content of the article that was printed in the “Il Giorno” newspaper (Lecco edition) the same day. Nolan (Woodbury)’s post in this topic shows the text of the same article. If you read the text, it is clear that from June 22; Guzzi for the time being has seized motorcycle production in Mandello.

What the newspaper does not say, is that the article is based on a press release by Piaggio. And that press release is based on an internal Piaggio memo that also came into my possession. Furthermore, I also have received the same information that indeed the production was closed down that day independently from 6 people that work on different levels at Guzzi.
 
Four of these people shared with me months ago information that Guzzi motorcycle production in Mandello would be closed down after the August holiday closure of the factory. That information was the same as confidential information that I received from a Piaggio source last April. The same source told me about this in May 2008, but I did not take that seriously.
 
To these people, with the exception of the Piaggio source, it was and is a shock that production was shut down already last Monday. As you can see from the dates, it was only announced publicly the Friday before.
 
I wrote the text “ if my information is correct “, because I personally think it is unimaginable that this happens. My thoughts have nothing to do with reasons of efficiency in production, the global crisis, Piaggio's views and reasoning in this etc. etc. For me, Guzzi and Mandello always have been a set and connected entity. But that is me personally, based on the relationship me and my family have always had with Guzzi and with a number of the people that work and have worked there. It was and is not uncommon to step into a little restaurant in Mandello and see four old factory racing riders play a game of cards. Or order an icecream at the local parlor, you feel a little pinch in your side, you look up and it is Carcano, the designer of the V8 and many other machines who wanted to pull a little prank. It always has been so connected for me personally, that I simply cannot believe it, hence why that text was there.

Somebody asked: “Where is the new factory then?  When was it built/equipped/staffed?”

Piaggio is still busy setting up assembly lines set up for production in a facility which also produces motorcycles for other brands then the brands ones owned by Piaggio. If my information is correct, the right sticker will be put on every machine that will run of these production lines.

Fact of the matter is, this was planned a long time ago and put into action indeed in such a way that the unobservant are let down gently; Greg (Field) is absolutely right about that and it cannot be put in a better way.

Enjoy your weekend!

Ivar de Gier

V 10 CENTAURO.ABOUT valve clearance

http://www.centauro-owners.com/phpBB2/viewtopic.php?t=1900

V 10 CENTAURO.ABOUT TENSIONNING THE BELTS

http://www.centauro-owners.com/phpBB2/viewtopic.php?t=1886&postdays=0&postorder=asc&start=0

 

Hi all!
I just tensioned the belts of the beast and I'd like to report to the group the way I did it because it's extremly simple yet a bit rough. Nevertheless I find it is better than "feel" tensioning, at least for me.
You only have to:
1) drill a 8mm hole in a 19mm wrench at 32mm from the centre of the fork (I mean the part that fits the bolt, sry for my poor english...)
2) bend the wrench so that when it is put on the nut of the tensioning pulley and on the hinge it will not interfere with the belt case
3) after having loosed the bolts, apply at the other end of the wrench a spring dynamometer (or whatever is called in english...I mean that tool made by a spring with a index and two hooks through which you can measure weights or forces) and pull with the needed force. This force is calculated by: F=T/a, where T is the prescribed torque in kilograms*meter and "a" is the distance in meters between the hinge and the point where the hook of the dynamometer is applied. In my case is a=0,16m so F=3kg, considering T=0.48kgm. Keep the dynamometer as orthogonal to the wrench as possible.

A  photo explains better than 1000 words...:

 

 

Hope it is clear.
Is better to get some help from someone because the wrench tends to slip away and you would need anyway a third arm to tighten the bolts...
The spring tool is obviously not as precise as a dynamometer wrench, but it does the job.
As you can see I completely removed the front frame. To do this you need to install new brake tubes, but I think it's worth because without the front frame changing and/or tensioning the belts becomes extremely comfortable and easier.

 

 

V 10 CENTAURO.ABOUT V11 OIL PUMP MOD

http://www.centauro-owners.com/phpBB2/viewtopic.php?t=1893

V 10 CENTAURO.ABOUT TIRE WEAR

http://www.rattlebars.com/valkfaq/tirewear/

V 10 CENTAURO.ABOUT RELAYS

V 10 CENTAURO.ABOUT RELAYS

http://www.centauro-owners.com/phpBB2/viewtopic.php?t=1894

 

What relays are you using?
If the answer is that you are stll running the stock relays, replace them all.
You can get good ones from DPGUZZI.COM