Ran into Jeff, an old college buddy of mine yesterday. I've never had the chance to hang out with him since I've moved here. He was cleaning his Ducati. Dunno what type it was. Sounded Italian. So after exchanging greetings and small talk, we started ogling at each other's bikes. Each of us admiring every detail and commending each other. He looked sad though. Turns out he was selling it that day. I then suggested a quick ride with him around the village. He agreed... And left me in the dirt. It was so funny. It's like I was going backwards. That Duc's as quick as it's noisy. To the uninitiated, the dry clutch gives the impression that it's about to explode, or that there's a foreign object bouncing around in the engine. While we were idling at the stoplight going to Petron, we could barely hear each other. But we were making a pretty catchy beat. His "clickity-clackity", alongside my "bagada-bagada-bag-bag". It was hilarious.
Now THAT'S a racebike.
The paintjob looks costly.
For the life of me, I cannot recall why I loved riding in this position.
Jeff's Duc next to his Swift.
I know the bike's cool, and all, but check out that grass! That looks like golfcourse grass!
Farewell Italian Stallion. You will be missed...
