A friend was itching for a motorcycle–as a consequence, at the spur of the moment we journeyed to Everett today to look at this ’94 Ducati 900-SS. Nice condition, 9500 miles. Since it’s been a few years since Paul has ridden (plus there’s no endorsement on his license), I took it out for the test spin. Nice bike. (I last rode a 900SS brand-new in about 1994, come to think of it. I wanted to buy one then but my shoddy credit at the time prevented that from happening…)

Paul ended up buying this machine for $4000 (I’m not up on Ducati prices, but that seemed OK to me). I rode it home–Paul had the privilege (?) of driving my Jaguar back.

Comparing this bike to my Triumph Daytona 955i (admittedly the Triumph is eight years newer, so the comparison isn’t really all that fair):

The Ducati is slimmer and lighter, though I wouldn’t say it feels nimbler. It doesn’t feel as huge as the Triumph, which is probably reassuring to many. I imagine the Ducati makes my butt look big, though.

The Ducati has a more comfortable riding position (probably helped by the corbin seat on this example), the 955i has a much more aggressive riding position. I could ride the Ducati comfortably to Portland, the Triumph would be harder for me to ride that distance.

The Triumph has tons more power, which is kinda what you’d expect. The “duck” puts out 80bhp at its 7000 RPM redline, the Triumph puts out 145bhp at 10,500–plus it has another cylinder for a faster spin to where the juice is. The Triumph’s extra power is nice on the highway, it can squirt forward at any speed without hesitation, the Ducati felt a bit duller. That said, both bikes have plenty of torque. I much prefer lots of torque to lots of power in a road bike.

The Ducati dash sucks, frankly. The gauges are fine, but the various warning lamps are impossible to see in the sun. The triumph isn’t a marvel, but the lights glow brightly and the digital speedo is easy to read quickly.

The controls are better on the Triumph. I don’t have large hands, but the Ducati’s clutch lever felt like it was meant for no more than three fingers, which would be fine–but it’s a bit heavy for that. The switch gear on the Ducati is a bit soggier…twice I found I was riding with the turn signal on after I thought I had canceled it ages ago. With the dash impossible to read, I’d definitely want to make sure I had that particular operation down to a science.

The Ducati sounds awesome. The mechanical clatter at idle is great, and this machine has loud pipes which, like everything loud, is fun when you’re the creator of the noise but annoying to everyone else. The Triumph has a much less busy sound–apparently, though, with a custom pipe similar to the ones on the Ducati, the triples sound pretty fruity, so I’ll call that a wash. The “duck” at idle makes more noise–mechanical and exhaust–than many bikes do when they’re wound up.

Both have good brakes, I think the Triumph’s are less abrupt and more controllable while being at least as powerful. The Ducati’s take some getting used to, they’re very much on/off.

The full fairing on the Triumph does its job–it’s far less breezy at freeway speeds than the half-fairing Ducati. That said, the Ducati motor is a handsome piece of gear, be a shame to hide it away.

The Triumph’s gearbox is in another league from the Ducati, or at least this Ducati. The Triumph shifts crisply and neutral is easy to find. The Ducati has an awkward up-shift (the lever seems high) and wasn’t that much fun to stir around.

The Ducati has more character, perhaps. It would never be boring, and the V-twin has a different feel to the triple or a four-cylinder. If I had money and garage space, I wouldn’t mind owning one.

The riding position on the Ducati has me thinking about raising the bars on my bike. Hm…

I took Goldie and the “half-mine” trailer over to Lake Stevens today to help my friend Paul pick up a non-running 1963 Jaguar XKE Fixed Head Coupe (Paul owns the other half of the trailer–I think mine is the right half).

It’s an interesting car, the bonnet is fairly rough but there doesn’t seem to be much rust in it–the car came out of California to the rainy northwest 20 years ago. Originally the coupe was a light metallic blue. Lots of money was spent rebuilding the engine, though that was 15 years ago now.

I think it’s going to run without too much trouble…unfortunately, everything cosmetic needs to be done, which is not an inconsiderable cost. Be fun to run it as a scruffy driver, though. Sitting in it, I’m a bit concerned about fitting into my flat-floor roadster, as the footwells really do add a fair amount of room, as does the indented bulkhead behind the seats. I guess we’ll see.

I’d really, really like to own a FHC again. I swear I’d do what I could to rust/waterproof the car and drive it as my daily driver. Paul bought this car to make some money (he was offered $3,000 more than he paid just on the ferry ride home) so I doubt this one will end up in my “collection.” (There’s also minor issues with having actual cash on hand as well, but that’s just details.)

It’s funny, these cars are still around and about, lurking in garages and what-not. Unfortunately, most owners believe they’re sitting on gold rather than asking a fair price, it’s nice to see the occasional “bargain.”

Before delivering this up to my friend’s place, I took the opportunity to fix a few things. Mainly, I put new bars on it, getting rid of the ridiculous “western” bars and putting on a set from a Norton Interstate. Much better, though the install would benefit from new cables. Couple of more photos after the jump.

It’s a decent riding bike, though the oil pressure is slightly suspect, or the sender is, in any case. Lots of minor sorting to do for my friend. Learning to ride first wouldn’t be a bad idea…

Spent one of the worst-weather spring Saturdays that I can recall trekking to Puyallup to help a friend pick up this BSA Thunderbolt. It looks to be a pretty nice machine with a minimum of things to put right.

Just a bit later that very day this bike was wedged into a set of mailboxes (fortunately with only minor damage at a very low speed) with the new (and very inexperienced) owner aboard. Almost as funny as the time when I put my 1995 Daytona onto its side-stand without–and, this is key–first putting the side-stand down. Once 500 lbs of stuff gets past its tipping point there is little a puny human can do to stop it.

You can thank Allie for the title of this entry. “Coleman” is the moniker that my friend Jeff has bestowed on this machine, but around here, it’s the Dreaded Jeff Car, after the debacle with the MGB-GT.

The previous owner flat-bedded the car over here this evening, and it was really too dark to do much poking or prodding. I picked up a used MGB motor from Bainbridge Island on Sunday, which you can see in front of this machine. The plan is to use all of the goodies from the motor in the car (which has a thrown rod) and put them on the new used motor, which will be coming out soon.

I’ll get the car up on stands tomorrow (maybe!) and start undoing some stuff.

I’ll be helping my friend Jeff put together another MGB. It’s a ’73 roadster in tough but usable condition–blown-up engine excepted. It comes with a spare rebuildable engine and I’ve located a decent used motor as well. So we’ll have a kit of parts and will see what we can get out the other side.

Jeff is the friend who got me into the GT debacle, but this is a better prospect. Everything but the motor is working, and the car hasn’t been off the road for long. Plus, it’s a roadster, which means if it’s running it’s worth more than he’ll have into it. Double plus, I’m not having to fund it!

The car is rustier car than I would buy, but the GT I just sold was an exception–most cheap MGBs are going to be rusty. This one isn’t terrible but it’s not good, either.