Showing posts with label Ducati 1199 Panigale. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ducati 1199 Panigale. Show all posts
The East Coast Ducs had a bit of a late start this morning. A few of us were ready to go early, but everyone didn't congregate until about noon, so we didn't end up going to ride out of the city as we had planned.
The temperature was in the nineties, and even a short ride over to the other side of Montreal was sweltering.
Rolling up thirteen East Coast Ducs deep, parking on the sidewalk or wherever we could find space.
Of course Ducati Montreal was located in Little Italy.
We spent a couple hours in western Montreal, then decided to go back to Vieux Montreal (and the Old Port) to find some lunch.
We parked on the street, but the waterfront appeared kind of hectic, so we walked and balked a bit.
Jerry: "Kiss French, Ride Italian"
We finally found a steakhouse for lunch, and had a few beers to cool off.
At some point we collectively decided to have a relaxing night, and have some drinks on the rooftop terrace of the Hotel Zero.
I bought a bottle of Bulleit, Shawn a bottle of Belvedere; others brought wine and tunes; and we lounged into the evening.
Clockwise: Shawn, Jason, Joe, Jerry and Sal
Montreal is truly a beautiful city, partially due to the fact that it is vibrantly illuminated. Classical and modern buildings alike have been backlit with different colors of light show...
highlighting different shapes and architectural elements alike, creating a wonderful ambiance to view from atop a roof deck.
Selfie Photo Credit: Jason (far right)
We ended up having a really great time, and ended the night by stuffing ourselves with some mediocre Chinese food, at the only restaurant we could find open at that time of night.
I've been quite remiss in getting this post up. In September, a bunch of Ducati owners dedicated to riding, made a plan to travel up to Montreal, Canada for the weekend. I had been up to Montreal over July 4th weekend, and had such a good time, that a number of my other riding crew wanted to go.
The first East Coast Duc at Columbus Circle at 5:30am
Montreal is only about five or six hours from NYC, so I find it kind of silly when anyone with wheels in the City who likes to travel hasn't been up to Quebec yet.
11 Ducati motorcycles meet at the Executive Diner Restaurant/26 Sawmill River Rd.
I wouldn't say I love long trips with a lot of riders, so I had slightly mixed feelings when thirteen riders on eleven different Ducatis showed up to ride to Canada.
Pair of Panigales
On top of the simple fact that more riders (and differences in style, degrees of proficiency, etc) typically means less safety, I feel like there should be some mathematical theorem outlining an inverse relationship between additional riders and overall ability to get from Point A to Point B. Motorcycle riders are stereotyped as badass outlaws, when in reality- we're emotional, cranky travelers that probably need to pee sometime soon...
However, the East Coast Ducati Riders Social Club was conceived as a club devoted exclusively to riding. I've ridden with a number of people in the Tri-State area, where a number of people get excited about riding, then never show up, and I was amazed that nearly everyone who had RSVP'ed to attending our Montreal trip arrived ready to go.
We had a great lunch at a Barbecue place off of 87, and slabbed it most of the way, stopping off at Schroon Lake for a photo op.
I managed to lose the key to my luggage (see the sidecases on my ST3 below) at the pump at the gas station, which some idiot picked up and walked off with.
I scoured the entire gas station for probably fourty-five minutes, until a middle-aged man walked up to me, telling me he had pocketed my key and left. I wasn't really even angry though, as the prospect of spending the next five days without toiletries or a change of clothes had gotten me a little stressed.
Most of the crew wanted to stay somewhere nice, so they booked luxury rooms at a place called the Hotel Zero1 Montreal. I'm not nearly so picky (moreso about the pricetag), and so my buddy Shawn and I shacked up at a Travelodge a block away, for less than half the price.
We checked into the hotel around dusk, which was located right between Old Montreal and Chinatown.
After we dropped off our stuff, we checked our bikes into a garage down the street, had dinner at the hotel, and went out to explore the city.
I was a bit excited for this year's Distinguished Gentleman's Ride, an official version of the ride, started in Australia, that takes place September 28th across the world, as the photo-ops from last year's ride were awesome. 29 members of our Ducati Owner's Club signed up for the ride this weekend, but alas only seven people showed up.
Gentlemen riding a couple Panigales (an 1199 and a newly decal-ed 899), a couple Monsters (including a pretty new 1200), as well as two club members riding a KTM 890 and a new BMW S1200GS arrived at Columbus Circle, and we waited for the better part of an hour to show up, but apparently the DOCNYC is only about 20% of what we say we are.
DOCNYC Live at The Apollo
Our first stop was up in Harlem in front of the Apollo Theater.
We tried stopping at a few more places, but traffic was terrible and the weather was really hot for late September, and we lost a few from our group, five of us eventually arriving down in the Meatpacking district where the official Distinguished Gentleman's ride was supposed to end up.
We parked outside the Standard Hotel, where there were a bunch of really pretty bikes, including these two SportClassics from Florida.
After a few phone calls, we tried a few places to stop off and get a drink.
The few real Gentlemen of the DOCNYC
Unfortunately, even the cafe at the Standard Hotel told us we had an hour and a half wait.
So we hopped back on our bikes and motored over to the Ear Inn, the West Village's most famous and oldest biker bar.
The proprietor (whose name I can't recall right now) was a really cool guy, who had actually ridden this KTM 950 down to Panama. Spiegel is planning on showing MotoGB and World SBK races in the future, so it's cool to have another biker spot so close to the Lower East Side.
I had planned alternate routes through the park last month, both to and from Nova Scotia, but in the moment, we had decided to just haul ass to get up to Canada, and push it on the way home. We had ridden right by Acadia, but never got to go.
After squabbling about when to leave and the impending stormy weather, amid forecasts of torrential early afternoon thunderstorms, we had a fantastic breakfast in downtown Camden.
The skies cleared up temporarily, and we set out and passed another previously missed opportunity (on my Canadian trip) to Fort Knox, which I was not going to miss twice.
The DOCNYC stopped at the Penobscot observatory, one of the first suspension bridges built on the East Coast.
Higher than the Statue of Liberty by some margin, the observatory offered and incredible panoramic view of the eponymous river and the Maine countryside.
The view of the Penobscot river to the south.
Looking down from upon high on coastal Route 1, the road which would lead into Acadia, about an hour away.
North of the observatory along the river bend was the original Fort Knox, and across the river in the distance, the city of Bucksport.
From nearly 500' above, our motorcycles looked miniaturized, shrouded in the bridge's shadow.
The view on the ground of the Penobscot river wasn't terrible either.
We stopped for lunch in a town called Bernard, at restaurant literally built on Bass Harbor, called Thurston's Lobster Pound.
A massive chest for steaming lobster simmered near the entrance, evaporating into an increasingly gray sky.
We pulled up our bikes behind the restaurant and proceeded inside Thurston's.
Crates of crowded, cranky lobsters lined the restaurant, clambering over each other, to be chosen ala carte and cooked for a customer's next meal.
Most of us got Lobster.
We headed downstairs and took off our gear in the dining area built on top of Bass Harbor.
Attached to the restaurant was a small dock, surrounded by fishing equipment.
Erik and Isabel enjoy the tranquil, aquatic scenery.
Our lobster was bountiful and delicious.
A view of Thurston's from the dock.
Sebastian parked his S4RS monster next to an old Dodge sporting the same color scheme as his Duc.
Snapping one last pic of the harbor before we left, we proceeded on to the Bass Harbor Lighthouse.
Overlooking the harbor, this lighthouse majestically presided over a beautiful view of an archipelago of islands in the distance.
Still in active use, the lighthouse is maintained by the U.S. Coast Guard.
Sun and clouds whipped over the islands, covering and uncovering Great Gott, Placentia and Little Duck Island in the distance.
The weather was actually starting to get weird. The forecast was now predicting thunderstorms later in the day, but a September heat wave was starting to be interrupted by whipping winds and brisk little cold pockets of clouds and rain.
Looking across Bass Harbor.
The lighthouse from above.
Acadia Park Loop
We had saved the best part of Acadia for last; the newly paved, one-way, park loop.
Our first stop was Sandy Beach, where a wedding party had decided to enjoy the scenery with us.
If we had more time, I would have stripped off my motorcycle gear and jumped in the 50 degree water.
Sebastian and I climbed up the rocky cliffs for a better view of the cove.
From upon high...
Here I am lost in thought, or at least posing with that pretense.
From there, we took off at pace, winding around the park roads at an electric pace, wary of pedestrians. We stopped off at this tight turn, that twisted around a cool cove to take some shots of our darling Ducs.
Shawn laughs as Sebastian relaxes amidst mountains and clouds.
Shawn's 1199 Panigale, with full touring regalia...
Sebastian's sick S4RS, with it's powdercoated red frame, swingarm and other bits, and carbon fiber galore.
My ST3, which has taken me about 7,000 miles thus far this summer.
This was a beautiful spot, which became even more dramatic as dark clouds razed the mountains, driven by faster and faster winds.
Cadillac Mountain
The apex of our trip (not to mention Acadia National Park) was Cadillac Mountain.
We arrived at around 7pm, amidst 40-50mph winds, carving clouds, seemingly careening over either side of the mountain.
The thunderstorm was supposed to hit an hour earlier, yet we had reached the summit before the storm broke.
Even a waxing moon added to the drama of the situation, though these pictures hardly show the full scene. A video shows a bit more how windy and truly tremendous the situation was.
Cadillac mountain doesn't really have any precipitous drops; rather a rock face rolls gradually, but no less stunningly into the bay below.
The mountain itself cleaved the clouds, which in turn, tumbled down the mountain on either side of our vantage point.
Down the mountain, the specter of a cruise ship nervously circumnavigated the bay, waiting for the inevitable storm.
After about a half hour of reveling in the panoply of visual beauty, the crew pulled on our rain gear. I went to the bathroom, and thirty seconds later came out to utter darkness. Within minutes, a fog had rolled in, blotting out any light, and giving us maybe 15 feet of visibility inwhat seemed like midnight. Within another 10 minutes, the fog had rolled through, and I was able to take the photo below.
The skies opened up and we saw lighting and a wall of rain moving up the bay.
As we mounted our bikes, the drops that had threatened all day turned into a deluge. Nejat led us carefully down the twisty turns of the mountain we had torn up in ascent 45 minutes beforehand, hydroplaning and slipping through a torrent of water. We made it a little more than an hour back to Bangor, in pretty heavy rain all the way, before we decided to exhaustedly turn in and stop for the night in Bangor.
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