Part of the funny aspect for me with the bike is that the odometer has been designed and manufactured in such a way that it's clear they (the people at Ducati, or Magneti Marelli who make the component) never really expected the bike to do a great deal more distance than mine has. At most it can do twice this distance before the read-out reverts to zero, because the digital display is only set up with the two little vertical strokes to make the figure 1 in that column. I've known that ever since the original instrument cluster got very wet (hence its replacement) and revealed every single element in the display simultaneously. Should I be (or have been - all that time ago) concerned by their assumed very finite limit on the bike's capabilities? Or should I just see it as a funny quirk and a challenge to in fact make or exceed the limit. I think the latter approach is more appealing, which is why I'm so excited I guess.
Maybe it's an insight to the Italian mentality that can be thus assumed to underlie the entire raison d'etre of the Ducati marque - 'We may not take you very far, but we will do so very fast and with great style.' (all said with a wonderful Italian accent) Which is a disservice to Ducati and the wonderful machines they make and clearly only intended as a joke. It's also a disservice to Miguel Galluzzi, the designer of the original Ducati Monster, unveiled to a gob-smacked public in 1992. Because the Monster was not about style at all. It was (and, until the more recent models, still is) all about beautiful, functional, minimal, design - which is a very different animal to style. And the style v's design discussion is one I should maybe have another day.
That's Dio in the picture. I love my Ducati. It's a red and metallic grey, 2003 build, MY02 Monster 620 i.e. It cost $12,750.00, or about twice what I could have paid for a comparable Japanese bike but my long-suffering and supportive partner knew I would never be happy with anything else. We both saw it as a beautiful design classic that, with care and good maintenance, would mature over time much like ourselves and acquire a delightful patina that spoke of the many miles of road travelled and many hours of washing and polishing endured at my hand. And, though he has a few non-original components occasioned by incidents that have seen us both sliding across the tarmac, that's pretty much how he is mellowing into the latter years of his first decade.
But this post isn't about numbers, or design, or dollars - it's actually about why I ride a motorbike. If AEON is indeed about living in the moment (and I'm trying hard to maintain that brief) then motorcycling, especially on a raw, naked bike like the Monster, is certainly up there as a contender for an activity where absolute focus on the 'now' is imperative. Even on my daily commute to work in the city, this is not an activity where you can afford to let your mind wander off topic - indeed, at the end of a busy and sometimes fraught day at the office I find the concentration of the ride home provides a form of enforced 'meditation' that allows me to leave a lot of the stress behind and de-clutter my mind before I rejoin the family for the evening meal and a relaxing night with a beer and a movie.
And on the occasions when I'm out on the highway by myself, or with my partner riding pillion, or perhaps riding alongside my neighbour and his son (Ducati GT750 & MotoMorini 3 1/2), it's all about enjoyment of the moment. This type of riding is not about the destination - it's about the journey. I'm not thinking about whether I'll 'get there on time' or how many kilometres there are still to go - I'm enjoying the sound of the air whistling past my helmet, the crisp note of the engine, the shift of weight as I round a bend, the warm sun on my leathers, the blur of road surface under the front wheel, the sharp focus of my attention to every crest and corner, and the big sly grin that progressively spreads across my face with every passing minute until it threatens to split my head just like the Oral B toothbrush 'flip-top' guy.
And it's not a race. This isn't about going stupid fast and pissing off the other road users or threatening life and limb. This is about a quiet stretch of winding black ribbon draped across the landscape and relishing every deserted straight that gives you the freedom of the cleanest line between bumps or potholes, every hairpin that makes your shadow squirm around on the road under the tyres, every crest that reveals a new vista as yet unexplored. This is about riding just for the sheer pleasure of experiencing the unique symbiosis of man, machine and good old Terra Firma in perfect harmony for this brief span of time. This is about shouting silently in your head 'I am. Here. Now!'
And on the occasions when I'm out on the highway by myself, or with my partner riding pillion, or perhaps riding alongside my neighbour and his son (Ducati GT750 & MotoMorini 3 1/2), it's all about enjoyment of the moment. This type of riding is not about the destination - it's about the journey. I'm not thinking about whether I'll 'get there on time' or how many kilometres there are still to go - I'm enjoying the sound of the air whistling past my helmet, the crisp note of the engine, the shift of weight as I round a bend, the warm sun on my leathers, the blur of road surface under the front wheel, the sharp focus of my attention to every crest and corner, and the big sly grin that progressively spreads across my face with every passing minute until it threatens to split my head just like the Oral B toothbrush 'flip-top' guy.
And it's not a race. This isn't about going stupid fast and pissing off the other road users or threatening life and limb. This is about a quiet stretch of winding black ribbon draped across the landscape and relishing every deserted straight that gives you the freedom of the cleanest line between bumps or potholes, every hairpin that makes your shadow squirm around on the road under the tyres, every crest that reveals a new vista as yet unexplored. This is about riding just for the sheer pleasure of experiencing the unique symbiosis of man, machine and good old Terra Firma in perfect harmony for this brief span of time. This is about shouting silently in your head 'I am. Here. Now!'
