The past week has been such a blur, I can’t even recall if I blogged about this. Don’t think so, and due to the pinheads who control our access to the interwebs, I can’t check right now. But I’m pretty sure my last post was about riding in Texas. Which was awesome, especially when I scoffed at the Tesla guy at the Maker faire. He told me the top speed was a measly 125mph, I scoffed and he asked “when’s the last time you went over 125?” I had trouble remembering what day of the week it had been, and was clearly struggling to recall. So he said “Tuesday?” and I was like “yes, I think it was Tuesday, it must have been since I drove from Marfa, tx to Indio, California on Wednesday.”
So the prize. The prize is a pearl white Ducati 848, because I am no longer a size queen, and am interested in more rational types of motorcycles. Unfortunately, no pix with this one, but I will attempt to give this sexy beast justice with mere words. Not only is she drop-dead gorgeous, with a (termignoni-assisted) voice that rumbles to the very depths of my soul, making me want to do whatever it takes to ensure she’s got a lifetime supply of sweet crude… She’s also tons of fun. I dropped by Ducati Beverly hills to say hi to my friends, and they immediately escorted me out the door onto their demo model. Well. The 848 was ecstatic everywhere, lanesplitting up la cienega, posing on sunset plaza, racing the fancy cars down sunset to Beverly glen, crawling up Beverly glen with rush hour traffic, even sitting at an interminable red light. The heat dissipates almost entirely to the crotch, so it’s a great bike for guys who want to be extra sure they’re not getting any surprise babies. Which is better than the R1, which literally cooks my legs.
The only problem was mulholland, where her excessively stiff factory setup made the endless bumps unbearable. But hey, that’s a $20 fix at the first track day.
So I’m a bit behind here, that was Thursday and since then I’ve driven to San francisco, gone to the maker faire, and am 2 days into the conference that may very well lead to the job that will enable me to run right out and buy this sexy beast. But don’t tell my R1 that. She did a great job getting me here, we had soo much fun. And she’s so good to me, even though I ignored the tow away zone sign and left her on the street in LA. It was bad enough to leave her on the mean streets of downtown LA all night, but then to subject her to the indignity of being schlepped to the pound for my mistake… Poor baby, I left a Ducati for her, and now it’s looking like I’m about to leave her for a Ducati.
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