2003 DUCATI 999
Time to hit the starter button now that all the little details and touches that abound on the 999 have pumped all the right juices into my blood. That hollowed-out top triple clamp is XXX-rated stuff. Less teasing is the sound coming out of the silencing unit. Ducatis have been getting more and more quiet, and this one is almost Japanese in its politically correct exhaust note--a minor complaint soon forgotten and easily remedied
Feel the love, baby: Ducati's have no redline painted on the tach, thus, get to know and love your bike (Shift by feel -- when the power dies or it shakes like a bastard, you shift)
While zigzagging through traffico d'Italia on my way to the highway, a new and quite surprising agility manifests itself. The spec sheet says it shouldn't be so, but the 999 is so much happier to change direction than the 998 there's really no comparison, and the first fast sweepers show this newfound quickness isn't accompanied by any loss of stability: 110, 120, 130 mph--the Bologna- Firenze Autostrada has sweepers to rival Monza's Parabolica any day, and the 999 soldiers on unfazed heeled well over, rewarding me with a broadband information broadcast from the front wheel. The new ergonomics allow me to tuck well in to dig that fighter pilot mood, baby, and with less weight on my wrists, my hands are much more sensitive to decoding all this welcome data. The engine might well be Bologna's best ever. It really is more sweet and lively down low, feels noticeably stronger than the 998 around five grand--while at the top end I was hard pressed to tell any difference. As always with Bologna twins, there isn't that much to look for near the redline, just beyond 10,000. Shifting at 8500 or 9000 max is a much better proposition, and lets the engine land back in the meaty portion of the torque curve.
With warm tires, I leave the Autostrada and head for the aforementioned twisties. So OK, the comfort level lets you ride for much longer stints without tiring, even at lower speeds without upper-body air assist easing the load. Much more important is the more-forward bias of the riding position. This makes the bike feel much smaller and flickable, and as it turns out I'm not even on the saddle's full-forward position yet; things got even better when I later shifted seat and pegs there. The sculpted, narrow fuel tank allows you to grip it strongly with your legs, and with the increased power of the four-pad Brembo calipers at work, you can use that extra something to hold onto. The 999 is equipped with radial master cylinders (not radial calipers)--and the available stopping power as well as the linear response to lever input are simply amazing.
Flung down the typical canyon road, the 999 is again much more agile than the 998, and at nine-tenths feels so natural and cooperative I think I am starting to fall in love. Things get a bit less rosy as I start to push the 999 even harder. When going for really serious lean angles, I find it harder and harder to make the 999 commit to reallyy tight arcs. Even after a lengthy session of knee dragging there's a good 3/8" strip of untouched rubber on both sides of the rear tire, a slightly unusual occurrence. Closer observation reveals that the 190-section rear Supercorsa might be on the large side and indeed, as a Ducati test rider I met outside the factory would tell me later, Ducs are usually fitted with 180 rears for track days and comparos. (My plan to alleviate the problem by playing with the easy-adjust rear suspension height evaporates when my 17mm wrench won't fit in the tight space around the bottom nut of the link rod.)
Said problem is of little consequence 99 percent of the time and does little to detract from the sheer idyll that is riding the 999 on a nice mountain road. The engine and its electronic fuel management are always ready to deliver those satisfying bursts of acceleration from 5000 rpm onward. As always happens with me, getting accustomed to playing less with the gear lever and letting the broad torque band do the work requires some time-- but the reward is sweet--flowing lines drawn through turns. You can devote all your attention to just riding instead of tap dancing with your left foot.
After a few hours play, I head north to Milan--a fast and boring 120-mile stretch. Top speed turns out to be about 170 indicated, and the wind-tunnel-tested aerodynamic protection is indeed better too; even a 6'4" hominid like me gets decent wind protection (by sportbike standars of course), and without the need for any unnatural contortions. The saddle even does a good job keeping my ass-cheeks alive--even after some six hours of riding--but the unbelievably small fuel tank stops me way before I get uncomfortable. At 4.1 gallons, this must be among the smallest tanks ever produced. Another sizeable item on my complaint list would be the heat blasting from the open area between the fuel tank and fairing: The total absence of side panels lets the engine and radiator roast the undersides of your thighs. It's bad in town and only reasonable at sub-60 mph speeds. So end the complaints.
It was time for the 916/996/998 to go and that's a fact. It's good, no it's great, to see that Ducati did not rest on its laurels in the design of the 999. Fitting new body panels would've been easy enough. The 999 manages the nearly impossible; keeping most of the old values that have made Ducati Superbikes the objects of desire of millions, while turning also to new customers perhaps less hardcore. Terblanche himself mentioned that some people in Ducati couldn't grasp the fact that the new 999 had also to be comfortable. A comfortable Supersport Ducati? Never!
Times change and the mission of creating a broader scope Ducati SS flagship has been achieved. Far as I'm concerned, the 999 is a better bike in every way than its predecessors. Last year's 998 was great, but there was no way I could ever picture myself owning one (money problems aside) because of the pain/joy balance involved. Not all canyon roads are 15 minutes away. But this one? Let's see, if I sell my old LeMans III in parts I guess I could maybe, ahhh.....
Why even compare it to the beloved 916? As an enthusiastic Italian biker said at a gas stop upon seeing the 999: "No need to compare, it's another bike! Viva Ducati!"