The following spring had the bike ready to go with a new set of BT57s and Goodridge braided lines fitted in an attempt to put some life into the Brembo brakes which were effective but curiously lacking in feel. However, before very long, it became apparent that the instability I had noticed the previous year had not gone away with the old tyres. This was brought to a head on a fast motorway bend where a bout of sudden, serious understeer very nearly brought me down. The cause turned out to be a crack in a frame tube, just behind the headstock. For such a serious problem, the attitude of the dealer and importer was less than inspiring. I was told that a cracked tube wouldn’t cause the bike to move about - this was more likely to be the result of a slightly under-inflated front tyre! There was also a whiff that this was somehow my fault. Once responsibility had eventually been accepted, the estimate to get the job done was two months with no offer of a courtesy bike or even a cab home. This was just not acceptable; I did some digging around before making contact with an Australian Ducati specialist who let me into a secret – cracked 900SS frames are not that uncommon – there had been a model recall in Australia and the 1998 frame featured modifications around the headstock. With this for ammunition, the objections fell away and the bike was soon returned.

My emotions for the bike had been badly scarred by the experience and a few weeks later, four days past the bike’s second birthday, the rear cam belt snapped taking most of the head with it. Repairs were estimated at about 700 Pounds, and I enquired if Ducati would make some sort of contribution. The answer was short and sharp – no. The service schedule states every 6,000 miles or annually, and as the warranty was due to expire I hadn’t felt it was essential to have the service done to the exact day as the bike had only done 9000 miles in all. This was the reason given by Ducati (or to be more accurate, the UK Ducati importer) for their decision not to contribute to the repair work. This seemed harsh, given the amount of time the bike had been off the road and so I persisted eventually contacting the factory, which had a much better grasp of the concepts of brand loyalty and customer service. The factory decided that the expired warranty would cover the repairs in total but even in the face of this the UK importer argued the toss, first suggesting that the factory had meant parts only, then insisting that I paid for the dealers ‘lost profit’ on the work.

This was the end of an idyll. I had no confidence in the bike and even less in the UK importer, nor did I feel that I had been well served by the dealer. This was at the time that the parallel import debate was at its height; I had bought my ‘UK’ bike from an ‘authorised’ dealer and the ‘official’ importer but may as well have gone to Joe’s Garage for all the good it did me in terms of quality service or back up. This put me off exchanging the bike for a much-desired 916, as did the service costs – a 6000 miles service on a 916 costs in the region of 600 pounds. The 900 lingered unridden and unsaleable for the rest of the summer until I part exchanged it for an ‘official’ but heavily discounted Kawasaki ZX6R.

So with the bad times fading, my memories of the 900 are becoming rosier. When I hear the bark of a Ducati downshifting, my thoughts become wistful as I recall chasing the sunset across Salisbury Plain or racing for the ferry. With a Ducati the highs are accentuated by the depth of the lows, but should it be this way? When I bought the Duke, I didn’t expect it to be an everyday usable bike like the CBR, but is there really any excuse for it not to be? The 6000-mile service on the 900 was some 300 Pounds – this on a basic twin cylinder, four valve, air-cooled machine. Contrast this with the technically much more advanced Honda VTR1000 where this sum would cover both the 4000 and 8000 miles services. It can be argued that when you buy a Ducati, you buy more than just a motorcycle; Ducati trades on the emotions. There is certainly very little to rival a Ducati on full noise but to quote Vic and Bob, pleasure comes with pain – and the pain can be just too much. Emotions are not enough and ultimately even the most ardent fan is likely to be put off by unreliability, outrageous service costs and the obstructive attitude of the importer. Sort it out Ducati!


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