Tell Us Your Monster-ous Story

[admin]

Tell Us Your Monster-ous Story!

DucatiMonster.org has a new look, and with that new look comes a contest! Sponsored by Amsoil

All you have to do is tell us a story about your Ducati Monster, and you could win an Amsoil Oil Change Package! This prize package includes four quarts of oil and an oil filter, worth a total value of $80.

Journey from coast to coast on your Monster? Get up a little too close and personal with the asphalt, but lived to tell about it? Did you show your friends on their Japanese rockets and chrome-crazy Harleys just why they call it a “Monster”?

Just post your story in this official ‘Tell Us Your Monster-ous Story’ contest thread by 11:59 pm Monday, May 19.

The best ten entries will be chosen and we’ll run a poll where you and the DML community can vote for their favorite story. The Top 3 entries will win the Amsoil Oil Change Package.

Voting will run from Tuesday, May 20 until Memorial Day, Monday, May 26. In the event of a tie, we’ll hold a run-off between the top vote-getters.


Still getting used to the new forum software?



Here are some pointers to help:

• Use the Active Threads page to see the latest discussions.
• Keep track of threads that you posted in by viewing your subscribed threads. By default, you will be subscribed to any threads you post to. If you want, you can choose to have an e-mail sent to you whenever someone else replies to a post you are subscribed to. You can set this in Edit Options page of your UserCP.
• Don’t like those text link ads? You can disable these IntelliTXT ads in the Edit Profile page. All members are able to disable these ads.
• Don’t like the ads in the left sidebar? You can disable that too on the Edit Profile page. This option is available to Premium members.
• You can keep a personal copy of your Private Messages on your computer. On the Private Messages page, you can export your PMs in XML (web page), CSV (spreadsheet) or TEXT (plain txt) formats. All your PMs from before the upgrade should now be restored, but it’s a good idea to save a copy of your PMs regularly.

[lifes_an_ocean]

Last autumn, I was on my 695 in the pouring rain on Rt 95 heading to work. It was raining cats and dogs; it was dark and cloudy and I was trying to make myself more visible when a large black pickup with jacked up suspension pulled into the lane alongside me. He was pacing me so I sped up to move ahead of him -- he sped up too. I slowed down to let him by me -- he slowed down too. I was wondering what this was all about since large cagers usually worry me even in good riding weather. This was wet, rainy, foggy, road spray all over and generally rubbish conditions to ride. I couldn't really see the driver, it was that bad out.

Well, one more time I dropped back to allow room to the pickup to pass or whatever and get out of his blind-spot. No sooner had I done this when the passenger window rolled down and an arm leaned out signaling me to move alongside. I was actually wondering if this was a crazy cager story about to happen and I start refreshing myself of the vehicles around me when I see this massive camera pointing out of the pickup and aimed at me. The passenger was snapping away and him and the driver were smiling and giving the thumbs up and yelling at me "nice bike" and "wheelieeeee!!". Maybe they thought I was crazy to be riding in a wild rain storm in the middle of October. Eventually, they realized I wasn't going to be pulling any more stunts. I reckon they figured I was crazy enough to be out I may as well have been a complete nutter. Maybe I am?

So, I arrived at work about 50% dry (mostly) and feeling pretty damn good. 40 miles out of NYC in about 90 minutes in crazy weather. Can you think of a better way to start a day where you're just gonna be stuck behind a computer screen??

[skizzlez]

Ten years ago I saw my first Ducati Monster. I had no idea what size or year, all I knew is I wanted one. Being 10 years old, it was all I thought about, talked about in school, and dreamed about. I found out later talking to my dad who is a huge motorcycle fanatic that it was a monster, and I have been in love ever since.

I started working early in 7th grade at a huge $4.50 an hour saving for my dream bike, which I did not know was approximately $10,000 new. Anyways, so while working I always had a thing for mechanics and I would buy and fix old motorcycles cars and ATVs to have some extra income.

Fast forward, after high school, 12 motorcycles, 3 ATVs, 5 cars, 2 trucks and a van later I had made enough to buy a Monster when I was 18. I drove from Minnesota to Illinois to pick it up from a perfect first owner named Adam. It’s a Ducati Red 2002 750 Monster Ie. My first true love. In the 2 years I have owned it, I have already become a pretty hand mechanic with the Desmo system and have the “mod bug,” yet no cash. Being a college kid, I have been living paycheck to paycheck, but holding my Monster keys firmly never planning on letting go.

As far as stories go, one fine day riding over to the girlfriend’s house, I decided I wanted to weave the dotted white lines. Everybody has done it, it’s a blast. Only this time, there was a motorcycle cop behind me. So, instead of just playing it safe and driving straight, I just flipped my blinker on every time I weaved back and forth. As far as I know it was completely legal. Well, I end up getting pulled over about 200 feet later, and he gets off his bike and walks up to me. “Do you know why I pulled you over?” and I say “well I was going a little fast…” considering I was going maybe 3 mph over the limit. He says to me “no, I pulled you over for exhibitious driving. This is the busiest street in the area, and I know how dangerous it is being a biker, so you need to be more careful.” I just sat there and grinned, then he asked me if it was my bike, and I said yes. We went on to talk there on the side of the “busiest road” for the next half hour about his past experiences on bikes, and the good times he used to have on his old Kawasaki.

Today, I still think exhibitious driving was a bunch of BS considering I don’t think that’s even a word. He just wanted to see my bike.

[monsterAD]

March 2001: I saw my first Monster, it was red, in a magazine ad for Lugz shoes. I had never owned a motorcycle but I knew that I wanted “THAT” bike.

April 2001: I found my Monster, it was a 2000, 750 with 150 miles. Without much consideration to my current situation, (married college student, with my wife expecting our daughter in MAY, and no real income to speak of) I bought it and was going to figure out how to pay for it later. I didn’t even have a motorcycle endorsement on my license. I think my wife went along with my idea to buy it just so I would shut up about it.

May 17 2001: My wife goes into labor and we spend most of the night in the hospital just to be told that she was still hours away from delivery. They sent us home….

May 17, 2001 10:00 am. I leave my wife to check on a landscaping job that I had landed and as I get there she calls me to tell me that WE HAVE TO GO,NOW!!!! I will be right there was my reply!!!!

May 17, 2001 10:30 am. I am on a long and winding private drive. I am approaching a right hand curve when I notice a branch in my path. I take evasive maneuvers and miss the branch, but I take the curve to shallow, the bike didn’t make the curve…. As the time slowed down, my options crossed my mind: lay it down on the asphalt or ride it out and pray. Being that the bike was so beautiful, I rode it out to try and save the bike. Have you every seen a front fork fully compress and then decompress? As I hit the ditch that is exactly what happened. I went air borne along with the bike. I landed on the asphalt with a broken collar bone and the bike survived with a scratched tank and a dented exhaust can. I ended up getting a custom paint job and exhaust after the insurance looked at it….
Oh yeah, my wife got her mom to take her while the ambulance was transporting me to another hospital. I made it to see my daughter being born.

That’s my MONSTER story!!!!!

[Desmo_Profundis]

Metal flake green was the color of my first bike, a '75 Kawasaki KD100. I was nine years old and had just written a suicide note to my parents stating that if I didn't get a horse I would off myself because life just wouldn't be worth living. I was in love, grinning ear to ear. My mom was furious. She had said about motorcycles that you first would want a small one then you'd want one a little bigger and so on until you were on some out of control Monster of a motorcycle bound to kill yourself. I have been on two wheels ever since and boy was my mom right (hopefully not about the killing myself part). I guess the Monster story begins with the demise of my '02 Yamaha R1. I took that over the top on it's two year old birthday destroying it with a 85mph wheelie gone wrong. Soon after which I was deployed to Iraq with the Army. Knowing I had no bike to come home to I had some decisions to make in the year I would be spending in the sand box. To make matters worse I was roomed with the infamous Beyote (of the DML) and we would spend hours deliberating over the pros and cons of every bike on the market both past and present. He was in need of a new steed as well and being the bike guru that he is it forced me to read every article just to be able to converse with him intelligently. It was very quickly apparent that my original plan of just coming home to a new '05 R1 wasn't going to happen. This bike would be bought with funds gained while I was at war so it would have to be a bike much more special than a new cookie cutter R1. Maybe a exotic like a 999, 916, or MV might be in order but alas this bike would have to be a work horse because I couldn't afford another bike to ride back and forth to work in the rain. Exotics were out, cookie cutters were out. How about that new Triumph Speed Triple? Oh yea that really floated my boat for a while. Beyote and I would use the analogy that each bike was trowing stones at us to get our attention and the more interested we were in the specific bike the bigger the stones it was throwing. The trip was throwing huge stones until I thought about how classic the 916 was. I thought of the timeless class, the beautiful sound, the raw untamed personality of the engine. I had already put exotics out of my mind but what about the Ducati S4. Classic, raw, naked, and throwing great giant boulders at my head. I had to send an email from Iraq to my friend Arun at MotoCorsa in Portland asking him if he had any S4s in stock. Being that it was an older bike and already replaced by S4r I had little hope that he'd have one. Arun said that he did have a yellow one with 3500 miles on her that he could give me a great deal on. Overjoyed (except about the yellow ) I said I'd take it. Knowing where I was Arun said he'd put it aside until I got back and could come and get it. He even said don't worry about paying for it now just pay when you get here. The man is awesome. A couple weeks went by when I got a distressful email from Arun saying that something had gone wrong with the yellow bike and he couldn't sell it to me after all, but, he said he had the "Cat Woman" bike there with 125 miles on it and he'd give to me for the same price... Cat Woman? You mean the same model that Halle Barry rode in the movie Cat Woman?... or the same bike? It turns out that it's the same bike (well, one of two that were sold to the studio) that Holle rode during the filming of the movie. This one's black and I was able to pick it up the day after I flew in from Iraq. A few mods later and I'd bet Holle wouldn't recognize her any more and my mom just nods her head and says "I told ya so".

[Snapperhead]

On Sunday May 11th there was an all bike drag day at the Kwinana Motorplex drag strip in Perth Western Australia with four different classes of racing. I entered my S4R in the Vee Twin Muscle class. This class had by far the most of amount of bikes racing on the day including lots of Harley, Buell, V Twin Jappers and of course many Ducati. The day began with qualifying and was on my third run of the morning yet to post a win. So here I am lined up at the staging lane, my competetion this time round is a Buell Ligthning, easy I thought, should blow him into the weeds. Slowly we moved into pre-stage and we are set, all the staging lights are lit up. The Christmas tree lights countdown and I am off to a good start, no red light and I felt I had a good reaction time. Bit of a wheelie off the line in 1st gear, second gear and a bit of front wheel lift again, me and the Monster are motoring. I am about half way down the quarter mile by now and going like a bat of hell, the Buell is behind me. Time to upshift into 3rd gear, back off the throttle and shift, on the throttle again hard and then nothing, dead as a doornail, I have lost power 100%. I had left the Buell for dead but in an instant it flashes by me and onto a win while I roll slowly to a stop. There are bikes lined up back in the staging lanes waiting to have their turn whilst I hold up proceedings and am stuck out on in the middle of the strip. The Motorplex dispatches a tow vehicle and eventually I am rescued off the dragstrip and suffering the indignity of being towed back in front of the spectators down the return lane all waving and jeering at me. Any way, back in the pits everyone comes over to find out what has happened. Has the S4R blown up, done a cam belt, has the ECU died, what has happened. It still turns over and is not seized with no nasty noises, phew, good news. It just wouldn't fire. Then it happened, a fellow S4R Monster rider comes over to offer assistance. "Hey Dave", he says, "the kill switch is in the kill position". Well that was it, I was beaten up, had abuse thrown at me and generally demoralised but I desrved it I guess. Somehow I managed to hit it when going on and off the throttle but still for the life of me don't know how. I wasn't quite the same for the rest of the day. I redlighted in the final elimination round and my day was over. I loaded the Monster back in the pick up and went home with my tail between my legs. So that is what kill switches do!! A lesson was learnt this day!! Dave "Snapperhead" Lauder. Perth, Western Australia

[Sica]

“There is something special in a Ducati.” A lesson in life, taught well after I thought I had already learned most of life’s lessons and taught to me when I least expected it. It is a lesson that will always remind me of my fortune, my Ducati.

Marriage is a defining moment in the life of a motorcycle enthusiast. The new wife can either join you in your life-long passion or crush your Ducati dreams. Fortunately, my wife enjoyed my Ducati Monster as much as I did. I removed the seat cowl and my wife hopped on. Our free time together was our free time with the Ducati. We ate up the coast of California for a year and then it happened. I planted the seed. I told my wife that I thought “chics on bikes are hot.” In a single phrase, I sold her. She had never entertained the idea before… but now with the undeniable allure of a Ducati and a taste of the good life, she made her decision. She wanted her own Ducati.

Fresh into our marriage and living off of a military paycheck in Monterey California, money was tight. So, after haggling with a dealer for about a month, we decided to purchase a used Ducati Monster 695 with barely 6000 miles on it. It was an online match made in heaven. She would get a sexy bike and I would be able to ride passenger free. She would get a Ducati and I would get the hot biker chic. What I didn’t expect in this transaction was a lesson in life from Yaro, the previous owner of my wife’s Ducati.

Yaro immigrated to the United States from the Ukraine as a student pursuing his American Dream. He arrived with very little and he worked very hard. The continuous monotonous life of a struggling student was all he began to know: school, work, school, work, etc, etc. He was going nowhere but he needed a reminder that anything is possible. So, Yaro bought a Ducati Monster and then he was going somewhere. Of course he had to borrow and of course he couldn’t afford it, but it was a Ducati and he needed it. He borrowed from his friends and he borrowed from the bank, but in the end he had already achieved more than most because he had come from nowhere and he had his Ducati. Then school and rising tuition stopped him in his tracks. He needed a student loan and the banks aren’t kind to immigrants. If he wanted the loan, he had to sell his Ducati. That is when our paths crossed.

We met Yaro and his Ducati during a cold time of the year in Sacramento. It was clear he was an owner that loved and appreciated his Ducati. Usually there are hesitations and questions when buying a used vehicle, but not this time. The bike was pristine and we were sold right away. We had to make some arrangements and we told Yaro that we would be back with a check. “Maybe in a month or two?” No worries, no rush… he had found the right owners for his Ducati. Besides, that gave him a little extra time with the bike before he had to let it go.

Two months passed and we arrived at his house with the check in hand, but Yaro was nowhere to be found. Did he change his mind? We rang his doorbell, peeped in his windows and waited in his driveway. Just as we thought about departing, Yaro came around the corner on his Ducati. He had to have one last ride before he relinquished ownership. He pulled up, settled the bike on the stand, and slowly got off. He gently patted it on the tank with his bare hand, as if giving his Ducati one last loving touch and the last “thank you for the ride.” He took off his helmet and there were tears in his eyes. These were not streaming tears, but enough to make my wife and I realize how much he truly loved this bike. I was speechless. He broke the silence. “There is something special in a Ducati.”

It is true. There IS something special in a Ducati. Something that you can’t explain in words and something your friends that own rice-burners, hogs or BMWs will never understand. There are the graceful flowing lines of love applied by the Italian designer; there are the fingerprints of passion and pride laid by the factory employee; there is the time tested history; there is this glorious distinct sound that can be distinguished in any traffic; and there is the fantastic feel as you take hairpin corners or the sexy purr as you open the throttle. Ducati has the temperament of a fiery female and the love of an alchemist turning a gentle web into woven gold. But all of this is only a small part of what Yaro described and felt. He went on for 30 minutes and we listened, because he was teaching us something. This was more than a mere possession. To him, it represented a struggle and a gift, a journey and a dream, a victory and a failure. It represented all of these things because it was a Ducati. Yaro taught me to respect my bike more than ever and to never take it for granted, because tomorrow I may have to let it go… but while I have it, I need to realize that it is more than a bike, it is a Ducati. Ride it every time like it is the last and always give it the pat it deserves.

[billkeep]

Early August 2007 provided me with a great opportunity to be with my two grown sons and ride my 2003 Monster 620. Our oldest son was moving west from Jersey City, NJ, just across the river from Manhattan, NY to Bloomington, IN (800+ miles). At the same time our youngest was moving east from St. Louis, MO to Ithaca, NY. In between is the great Midwest of the USA where I have friends and family. As an aside, in 2004 at the age of 51 I brought my first ever bike, an off-the-showroom '03 M620, bright yellow. The minute I sat on the M620 I knew that would be my bike. I didn't know then, however, that I would make a road trip with it.

We planned the entire trip to be, as much as possible, on two-lane blacktop. I rode west from Connecticut into NYC through the Holland tunnel to Jersey City. We packed the rental truck carrying everything down from his third floor "walk up" (which means no elevator or lift). We strapped his "non-Ducati" motorcycle inside the truck, finished loading, and then had a couple of beers. The next day we headed west through Newark and into Pennsylvania where it started to rain. While my 30 year old son sat dry and happy driving the moving truck and listening to the radio, I rode behind, wringing out my gloves at every stop. My rain gear didn't stop me from getting soaked underwear to socks. After three hours of hard rain the sun came out just as we entered the Gettysburg National Park, a truly beautiful but eerie place where so many Civil War soldiers died. We spent our first night in West Virginia. The next day we rode through the mountains of West Virginia, not to be missed if you can get out that way. We finished by staying a second night in southern Ohio, then went around Cincinnati where the traffic fumes were awful, then on to Bloomington.

After unpacking the truck, a few beers, and a day of rest I headed north to Michigan where I visited family and even helped a family member move. Then one very hot day I headed south, down US 27 to visit friends in Lexington, KY. The air temperature was around 97 degrees (F) and stayed that way for the next few days. After two nights in Lexington I rode west to St. Louis for my longest day on the road. Anyone who has ever been in Lexington or St. Louis in August will know this was one hot ride. Southern Indiana has some shade but southern Illinois is flat, hot, and dry. Finally I got to St. Louis, my son's air conditioned apartment and a cold beer. After a couple of days we load his rental truck with my bike inside. During the entire trip I strapped in two bikes, my son's "non-Ducati" and my M620, and in both cases we used a futon mattress between the bike and truck wall and ratchet straps. In both cases the bikes stayed put with no damage (but be careful where you put the ratchet straps).

I then drove the truck with my son's stuff and my bike inside from St. Louis to Erie, PA while he drove his car. We arrived in Ithaca the next day, unpacked the truck, and yep, went for more beer. The following day I rode from Ithaca, NY across the top edge of the Catskill mountains on highway 23, into southern Massachusetts, then cut south around Sturbridge down highway 169, which is really quite nice, then into Connecticut. I had a wonderful three weeks with many shared moments with my sons. That's my Monster story.

[CETME]

HEY guys, I tried to post this on the new system here, but it wont let me. It says too many pictures and too much text. You can search for it here, I posted it here a few years ago.

But you guys can click on this link to get the full story. I'm sure you guys will get at least one chuckle out of it.

http://www.advrider.com/forums/showthread.php?t=237171


It involves pain, determination, danger, and a good bit of adventure.

here are some highlight pictures:

[DEVO!]

Ok here is my sad story, I have been riding most of my life started riding mini bikes in the streets in los angeles during the early 70's did a lot of cyn riding all over (rock store, Mulholland, the crest, even griffith park!) I rode ALL the time I didnt even own a car until I was 29. Two weeks before I was going to get married I was hit in an intersection by a car making a left turn on my 97' M750, an aerobics instructor named Bea hit me and I went flying all the way across the street and landed on a mail box. I broke my collar bone dislocated my right shoulder and broke 2 ribs. My bike was almost folded in half and was found about 10 feet from where I landed on the mail box. I was able to walk but I could not move my arm and I was in a lot of pain but this is just the beginning. As soon as my future wife hears about what happened she threw all and I mean ALL my gear, spare parts, and any thing even remotely related to motorcycles in the friggin dumpster or gave it away.... Yes I still married her Yes we are still together yes my son and my daughter ride bicycles.
10 years later 2007 I finally put my foot down (ok maybe it was just good timing) I went to go see the new 695 under a shroud of secrecy I made my way to my nearest Ducati dealer and got a test ride, walked around and checked out the new models and left in a fashion that no one would remember seeing me as not to tip the wife off. All I did for next few days was think about how I could get it home with out causing major drama, hmmmmm.
That same Thursday I got a HUGE bonus from my job and the money was just burning up a hole in my pocket, so you know what happened next,,,, nope I didnt get it I took the money home told my wife about it, told her how I went to go check out the 695 and that it had more HP than my old bike yada yada she didnt seem impressed....
My birthday is in november but we allways celebrate it on Halloween with a party at the house and costumes and all that, everyone starts showing up and we eat and drink, sing happy birthday etc. When it comes time for me to start opening my presents the first one I opened was an HJC helmet??? I am like what the F@CK! I was a little pissed off at this and didnt think it was very funny (ok I was a little drunk) so I keep opening gifts, Kobe leather jacket, SIDI boots, KOBE gloves, and some friggin maxima chain wax! W_T_F! now I really want to know what the hell is going on! my wife tells me to calm down and the whole party walks over to the garage and there sitting in MY FRIGGIN GARAGE is a black and red brand new 695! ( my first new bike ever) I almost cried really. My wife took the bonus money I had plus our tax refund and went out and bought it. It has taken me a little while to get used to riding again about 3 months but I haven driven to work since I got it I have ridden nonstop every day rain or shine. My shoulder still hurts my color bone is crooked to this day (it never quite healed right) but who cares I dont think I have ever felt better. So I guess the point is just do the right thing, keep your family close and everything will work out in the end.

Dean