❙ ALLEN MILLYARD
Paint jobs and sorting out his dirtbike this month for Allen.
Ducati delight and doldrums…
Ducati had its own problems in the 1970s. The outdated 250/350/450 single-cylinder models had gone out of production, as had the technically complex 750cc ‘round case’ models; the 860 GT was distinctly unappreciated and the new 350/500cc parallel twins turned out to be complete failures mechanically, and served only to push Ducati further towards the brink.
The super-exclusive Super Sport models were the only highlight, but they were too expensive and already past their peak. In addition, the factory was on a government-funded hospital drip, some bikes were assembled in the Italjet factory and mismanagement had been elevated to an art form by a revolving door of newly-appointed suits.
Nevertheless, the factory in Borgo Panigale, Bologna, just managed to keep its head above water, thanks mainly to one person. Designer Leopoldo Tartarini was responsible for a new ‘naked’ bike that Ducati desperately needed to be a success. Furthermore, this ‘Darmah’ got an upgrade both in reliability and user-friendliness – the gear shift was on the left, Bosch managed electronics, an electric starter managed the starting, Nippon Denso dials handled rider information, and gold-painted Campagnolo cast magnesium wheels were the icing on the cake (at least to start with). And no, the tiger logo on the side-panel wasn’t a mistake or a prank, it was a 100 per cent standard addition.
The Darmah remained in the Ducati model range until 1984, but from 1981 they were eclipsed by the new, lighter Pantah models. Then, in 1985, Ducati was taken over by Cagiva. The brand made good use of Pantah technology, producing the Paso in 1986, while the bulky bikes were side-lined until the arrival of the 851.
RIDING
After just one day of riding, just one machine is clearly the riders’ favourite here – although it’s the bike with, apparently, the least sporty character: the Ducati 900 SD Darmah.
This is partly because – entirely in line with Italian tradition – it subtly cheats with its unsubtle Conti exhausts. Start the Ducati on the button, and the potent bevel-drive Desmo barks with a pitch reminiscent of a big-bore Harley-davidson.
We count every clap of combustion; each one seems to synchronise with our heartbeats, and each propels us further, and faster, towards the horizon. The aural assault from the twin pipes bends eardrums and flattens into spinal cords like a pure, heart-stopping overdose of mainlined artistry. Sorry… have I gone too far?
Tickle the Ducati to idle and then add a bit of throttle – the sculptured metal splutters and sneezes, searching for the ideal air/fuel mixture from its gaping Dell’orto carburettors, adding a touch of charm alongside the noise. But wrapped up in the cacophony is a chunk of deference to the sheer mechanical interplay of pounding pistons, Desmo valve actuation and the thick, rotating, bevel-drive. After each corner, the engine picks up the thread again with perfect power delivery to search for the next bend with a thunderous intensity. Marshalling only 65bhp, the Darmah couldn’t be called a sprint machine; it’s only when deploying its huge torque that the bike flexes its muscles (by 6000rpm the power drops noticeably, which makes further machinery torment pointless and undesirable).
With the exception of its painfully malformed handlebars (which twist wrists into a kink), the Darmah delivers a comfortable, relaxed sitting position. While the other three machines feel as if they demand a time-consuming dressing-up exercise in a professional racing outfit, the Darmah feels more like the machine you could use to run errands wearing a favourite old leather jacket.
Yet the Ducati shows its racing genes when it smells a mountain road: the insanely long wheelbase and racked out fork angle keep the chassis beautifully aligned once it’s manhandled into a curve. Fluid, progressive riding – with buttocks clenched firmly to the saddle – is the key for getting the best from each of the four bikes; hanging off the side like a chimpanzee – in the modern style – only disturbs the chassis’ equilibrium. And that kind of riding on these bikes perfectly suits the character of their all-new, phenomenal Bridgestone BT-46 tyres (yes, we have to mention our sponsors here). They have enough next-level grip to expose the technical limitations of classic suspension and brakes if you get giddy, but high-tech tyres can improve riding habits and make every trip on a cherished classic extra safe – even in unexpected downpours.
After riding these four amazing machines, we all favoured the mellow delights of the Ducati but we also agreed that there really isn’t a bad bike among these four. Each is either subtly or not so subtly different and each represents the epoch of these European manufacturers of the time. Classic motorcycling is great in this sense – there really is something out there for everyone.