• First Feature

CHEAP THRILLS
2005 DUCATI MONSTER DARK
Story by Anne Van Beveren
Photos by Tom Van Beveren

The littlest Ducati and I have a lot in common.
We’re both small. I’m five-foot-three; it’s got a 618cc displacement and a 30.3-inch seat height. And we’re both cheap. Well, in my case I prefer to use the word “frugal,” or better yet, “prudent.” In the Ducati’s case, let’s use the phrase “really good value.”
There are other similarities too, like the fact that we’re both foreign born, great looking, incredibly classy... I could go on, but let’s not get carried away.
The point here is that last time I was in the presence of Michael Lock, head of Ducati’s American operations, he threw something at me that I wasn’t expecting.
“People think that Ducatis are exotic and fast, but they also think that they are unobtainable because they’re so expensive, and that’s just not right,” Lock told me. “People say, Wow, your bikes are fantastic and I’ve always dreamed of having one, but almost in the same breath they say, but I can’t afford one. They say they don’t want to spend over $10,000, but they don’t know that half our product range is under $10,000.”

Lock has made it a personal, and professional, goal to show riders that Ducatis are not just for the rich and famous. Sure, you can pay $32,000 for a limited edition race replica 999R, he told me, but what about a Monster 620 Dark—the one with the black tank and side covers. It’s the cheapest (sorry, least expensive...) bike in Ducati’s lineup and can be yours for around $6,595. That’s entirely average when it comes to the price of a new motorcycle. Decidedly Honda territory.
So what do I give up if I buy the cheapest Ducati on the road? I got my hands on a 2004 model and rode it all over, trying to find the flaws.

• Second Feature

A JOURNEY THROUGH JAPANESE CULTURE BY MOTORCYCLE
RIDING AND WRITING ACROSS THE CULTURAL DIVIDE

Observations by Nick Voge

“There are many mediums through which one can seek understanding of a foreign culture. I have chosen the motorcycle.” N.V.
When one considers the impact that Japanese motorcycles have had on the world of motorcycling over the past half century, it is somewhat astonishing that in all the millions of words written by the motorcycling press, almost nothing has been written about Japan. Americans are largely ignorant about U.S.-Japan relations prior to the attack on Pearl Harbor.
And while there are many books where the curious reader can learn about the country, none are written from the admittedly narrow perspective of the motorcyclist. But then, Japan is not an easy place to understand regardless of one’s perspective. Like an illusion that exists forever just beyond One’s grasp, Japan remains an enticing land to which the casual visitor will always be denied access.
Much of this impenetrability is due to the language barrier, and a formidable barrier it is. After all, how can one hope to understand another culture if one cannot even talk to it’s people in their own language?
In answer to the common question, “How long does it take to learn Japanese,” my usual response is: “I don’t know. I’ve only been studying the language for 25 years.”

Interview:

MEMORIES
LOOKING BACK WITH TED EVANS
Interview by Anne Van Beveren
Photos Courtesy of Ted Evans Collection

Some of the best riding hours I ever spent weren’t on a motorcycle. They were in an armchair in front of a fire on a cold winter’s day, going along for the ride as old-time racer and motorcycle dealer Ted Evans retraced his motorcycling roots.
At 85 years of age, the memories come a little slower than they used to, but they are as action packed as ever, and oh what memories they are, because those were the days when budding racers could practice in the open fields of East L.A. When racing at Daytona meant a high-speed dash down the beach at low tide. When riding buddies included people like Steve McQueen and Keenan Wynn.
Listening to Ted Evans tell stories from motorcycling’s past leaves no doubt that his truly were the golden days, and reminds us that we should listen up while the golden oldies are still able to tell their tale.
Evans sure doesn’t look—or act—85. A slightly built man, he’s nimble on his feet and the broad smile he greets you with creases a remarkably young face that makes it easy to see how he earned the nickname “Angel Face Daredevil” back in his racing hey day.
His living room is as stuffed full of motorcycle memories as his mind. There’s a Yamaha Dealer Award from 1977 on top of the big screen TV. Old racing pictures hang on the walls, and they-don’t-make-‘em-like-that-any-more helmets are lined up on a shelf. Beside the couch, is a Smith Wheel that Evans’ son surprised him with just a week or two ago.
“Look at that. Isn’t that wonderful? It’s so cool to have. You know, in my day, those were really popular. I’ve got the best story about that. You might want to write this down…”
And so the stories begin.
Evans was born in Salt Lake City, Utah, in 1919. His family moved to Southern California in 1925 and took up residence in Venice, and he has stayed in the Venice/Santa Monica/Marina Del Rey area pretty much ever since.

Project bike story:
ATK ATTACKER
Story and photos by Reid Libby

By nature, racing machinery is very narrow in focus. Winning is job one and there is no room for anything that doesn’t contribute to that ultimate goal. With this in mind, it’s fairly obvious that, legalities aside, race bikes don’t fare well when pressed into duty on the street.
Be it street or track, lightweight and plenty of power are desirable traits. Mike Ruffner, long-time dirt rider and Buell enthusiast, couldn’t agree more. So, when the urge came upon him to build a special, it had to be something that was race bred. He could have gone the typical route and tried to rehabilitate some old greyhound whose racing prime was past but Ruffner didn’t want to take anything away from a veteran by civilizing it. He opted, instead, to build a race bike from scratch, adding only the features that were necessary to make it suitable for street use. In this particular case, “suitable” is somewhat subjective.
With flat track experience gained years ago in Ohio, Raffner’s choice was an easy one. He obtained a pair of 600cc ATK Rotax engines and used them as the starting point. Of the two, the dual-sport motor was given the nod thanks to the paper trail it possessed. In California, legitimacy with the DMV is everything.
Santa Cruz Harley fan and friend Fieke Banning got Raffner’s project underway by reaching all the way across the pond to the British dirt wizards at CCM for a world-class frame. The CCM boffins are masters at their craft, so it is understandable that perfectionist Raffner felt compelled to go with only the best for his project. The fact that this was the only frame found that would accommodate the big electric-starter equipped Rotax engine might also have had some small bearing on the decision.

Way2go

THE PLEASURES OF A DEAD-END ROAD
THE HUASNA ROAD
Story and photos by Clement Salvadoru

Huasna Road is a cheerful dead-end road, and the round trip from Arroyo Grande will cover about 50 miles. Of course, you can keep on going if you happen to have bolt-cutters and the like strapped to the luggage rack of your bike, for when you get to a locked gate. And don’t mind getting lassoed by a cowboy who’s paid to keep trespassers off the land.
The Huasna area is delightfully rustic. And the people who live out there will probably give me a haranguing for telling you about it, but that is all part of the great game of finding good places to ride. In less than an hour it takes you away from the hurly burly of the Central Coast’s beachside communities and the busy U.S. 101, and slides you back a hundred years.
If you’re coming from the south along Highway 101 the road descends the Nipomo Mesa into the town of Arroyo Grande, and the first exit is Traffic Way. Take that off ramp, go past the Mobil station, and the first road to the right is East Cherry Avenue. This is the back way out to Huasna. After half a mile of rural suburbia Cherry becomes a farm road and there is an obvious right turn onto Branch Mill Road, which curves along the south side of Arroyo Grande Valley, with its fields full of lettuce or whatever the appropriate crop of the season is.
Spanish speakers know that Arroyo Grande means Big Creek and the creek was pretty big until it got dammed up at Lopez Lake, leaving a wide, fertile valley and just a trickle of water. Nice ride, especially when the sun has dried the road. After a couple of miles, Branch Mill Road intersects with Huasna Road.

Ask the Sergeant:

Dear Sergeant:

I am curious about how police departments select the brand of motorcycles they use.
We have all seen the Kawasakis, BMWs and the occasional Harley-Davidson. Recently, I have frequently seen cops in the Thousand Oaks area riding Honda ST1100’s and, just the other day, I saw a cop on the 118 Freeway in the San Fernando Valley riding a Kawasaki Nomad. At first I thought it was a Harley but, as it passed me, I saw that it was a Nomad painted in a classic police black and white.
Can an agency take any motorcycle they want and turn it into a police bike or is there some kind of protocol they must follow?

Christian Germaine,
Newbury Park

You know the old saying about not discussing religion or politics at family gatherings? The same could be said about discussing motorcycle brands at a gathering of traffic cops. If there are 10 cops present, you would end up with 11 different opinions.
With that said, allow me to share my opinions, which are based on 30 years in this business, with experience as a motor cop, a motor supervisor and as manager of a traffic enforcement unit.
There are a number of factors that affect motorcycle brand selection for law enforcement.
First and foremost are budgetary considerations. Every agency has a spending plan that it must adhere to.