Toe in the Water

Ducati 175

Ducati 175

In my last post, I promised myself and anyone who read that episode that I’d write about the motor bike that featured therein. It was a 1960s Ducati 175.

Doesn’t sound like much, does it? But there are certain facts you need to know. Especially that it was the racing version fitted up to be road legal. Which meant that it had a silencer (muffler). And, as a result, it was fast.

More than that, you should understand about that little 175 cc motor. It was an odd size for racing and, because there was no category for that capacity, it had to race against the 250s. But it still won all the races. That little screamer of an engine humbled all that came against it at the time. And now I had the opportunity of riding the beast.

The picture up there doesn’t really do it justice. I chose it because it has the right design of fuel tank. Sexy is the only way to describe those curves and bulges and swooping lines. The rest of the bike that I came to know wasn’t nearly as fancy as the one above. It was stripped down of all unnecessary weight and never as well presented. I doubt that my sister’s boyfriend ever cleaned it and it certainly had no parts painted gold! It was a thing for one purpose only and that was to go fast.

Okay, it was tiny compared to the 1,000 cc monsters bikers ride today. But bear in mind that the only bike I’d ridden before used pedal power as its motivating force. I loved that bike.

I took it on the old Salisbury circuit that was no longer used. Down the straights it was so quick the tears were streaming from my eyes. Goggles? Nah, who could afford real biking gear in those days? I doubt I got anywhere near the lap record but it was exciting and magical beyond description. On the way home, I leaned into a corner and the foot rest scraped the tarmac.

That was when I learned about the murderous side of motor bikes. Fun they are and in incredible quantities. But they’re also killers if you make a mistake.

The net result was that I elected never to get a motor bike. I bought cars when the time came (before that, actually, but that’s another story) and did all my crazy stuff in them. The glory and exhilaration of bikes I understand but I knew that I’d have killed myself on one sooner or later if I gave the things the chance.

My oldest son has owned and ridden bikes for years now but he was always more level-headed than me. Even so, he managed to break a pelvis a while back. He rides the big ones and has taken lessons and so on - should be safe now, I think.

So that was the mighty midget, the Ducati of my teenage years. I only got to ride it a few times but it stays in my memory as a bright star that illuminates a brief period in my life. My advice is never ride a motor bike. Why risk the danger of being bitten by the bug and getting one for yourself? They’re more fun than should be legal. And they’ll get you in the end.

Especially if it’s a beautiful Italian job, light as a feather, and just screaming to go.

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