I Always Wanted to Be Luke Dodge

I wanted to be Luke Dodge. Fleeing down back roads on a red Ducati 916—monoposto, of course—messenger bag around my shoulder. I even had a similar plaid jacket the character wore during the chase scene. Running from Cubans with guns and menacing pencil staches, however, is still completely unnecessary…

I, like most of the motorcycling community in November 1993, was caught completely blind-sided by the debut of the 916. It was unlike everything before it—we knew it then and we still know it now. Odd that I can stand beside one and admire it for some time and still find her strikingly beautiful is obvious testament to this fact. (How is this bike still so goddamn gorgeous?) It is only just now beginning to show its age, but the 916 is still more than capable on street or track. Although I won’t be telling you anything here that you don’t already know about this bike, or its little brother, the 748, regarding their place in history. Bike magazine, and every other motorcycling magazine the world over, has already done that countless times before. And if you’re not a Stephen Baldwin fan then I will abandon all further references to him and/or Fled from here on out. The point is, if I’m making one at all, is that I lusted after this bike for a very, very long time. And only until recently has my journey come to an end. Or at least it remains on extended sabbatical. My journey ends in a quiet little New Jersey town, but it began in my heart… And in a dealership.

Cycle World in Rosedale lost their Ducati franchise shortly before I took a job in the Parts Department. I would hang out in the showroom on occasion just to sit on floor model 916s when the place was busy, so as to not get yelled out for bothering bikes I had no intention of actually purchasing. But this was one small, insignificant interaction with an object that would begin to define me as a motorcyclist, as a person.

The 916 or 748 eluded me at every turn. On 9/11, for instance, the day I had decided to contact Speeds Cycle and purchase a new Duck. Before I could even turn on the television I was on the phone with the owner, first thing in the morning, and just minutes after our own jets were aimed down at our own people. My dream was squashed then and there. That day had scarred me beyond my wildest dreams, and I failed to call the dealership again. The Ducati of my dreams would have to wait.

I spent the late 1990s and early part of the new century in the pages of (especially) British motorcycle magazines. I had it all figured out: move to England, purchase Ducati 916, and write for Bike magazine, or Fast Bikes. This was my aspiration and nothing else mattered. I gave up everything to try to realize the dream. I even sold my 1999 R6 to visit the UK in the summer of 2004. Spending a weekend at Donington Park for the British Grand Prix only helped to reinvigorate my desires. A sea of motorcycles, of which there were dozens of ultracool Ducati 916 variants, parted for me to enjoy my one-and-only MotoGP race. However, I blew perhaps the opportunity of a lifetime by not meeting up with then T.W.O. editor Bertie Simmonds after the race.

Spending the past two or three months actively searching for available 916s practically everywhere east of the Mississippi eventually brought me to a Cycle Trader webpage for a red 1998 Ducati 748 in New Jersey. Just a tick over 8,000 miles and garage kept. Perfect. Two grand cheaper than the big brother Duck I wanted to spend (and on a fifteen year old motorcycle), I knew it was the one the moment I saw it.

my 748

One of the best road trips my girlfriend and I (and our dog) have taken in years... The Duck was red, monoposto, and in miraculous shape. Headlights were free of dings and chips--a telltale sign that it has seen little highway riding; handlebar controls were free of sun-fade, as was the bodywork. My only concern came from lack of Service history. Considering how genuinely gorgeous shape the bike is in I didn't fear it was overly abused.

So, my plan for the 748 is to have the engine out immediately. Cam belts replaced and rockers inspected for chrome flaking. Alternator nut and rear wheel axle inspected and tightened. Electrics/connections checked and replaced if necessary; regulator/rectifier wiring replaced with thicker gauge wire. And hopefully I can do this without the huge cost of taking the bike to a Ducati dealer. Working in a bike shop has its perks...

Now I have realized the dream, at least one of them anyway. I’ve become my own Luke Dodge (sorry, couldn't help it), taking to the road on my very own Ducati. I'm grateful to finally ride the motorcycle, in one form or another, which I invested over a decade of love and adoration into. My life, in a lot of ways, has come full circle. In lieu of one dream I failed to obtain—writing for British bike mags—I have achieved another, equal dream. I am finally Ducatisti. I am Luke Dodge.

But then... the journey will continue again one day. In the not-too-distant future, perhaps there will be a 916 motor swap. And then, then, everything will be just perfect. Then I will go chasing shady Cubans in Lincoln Towncars into the sunset.