I'm exhausted, and I should be packing for EICMA in Milan in a couple days, but even though my eyes are bloodshot and my wrists sore, I know that I won't put this up unless I get it done tonight, even though I was riding from eight this morning till nearly eight tonight.

Hawk's Nest with the East Coast Ducs

 Over the years, my riding friends have dwindled as the seasons change, so I was fairly amazed that twelve or thirteen bikes from the East Coast Ducs showed up on 10th Avenue and 45th Street this morning at 8:30am.
 Braving 40-50 degree weather, we went up the Palisades towards Bear Mountain and Seven Lakes Drive, a notoriously twisty, scenic series of roads.
 I was happy to be testing a whole bunch of new winter gear,
as in a week I'm hoping some friends can rent a bike and travel up around Lake Como in northern Italy.
It would be nice to do it on a Ducati, but I'm just hoping we can find some wheels outside Milan.
 Today was good practice though, and the weather really warmed up towards mid-day.
 Our penultimate destination was Hawk's Nest, a couple mile stretch of winding curves, one after another, a few hundred feet above the Delaware River Below.
 Hawk's Nest is just north of Port Jervis, and if I remember correctly, it's sort of the informal northern end of the Delaware Water Gap.  We arrived at around 1:30, and ended up way behind schedule, going back and forth up the mountain.
After some fantastic Barbeque. we didn't head back home until nearly 4:30, as dusk approached.  I stupidly had only my dark visor, which is basically useless at night, so I had to ride back for nearly an hour, from north of Bear Mountain, all the way back to the Lower East Side, with no visor at all.
Luckily I made it home safe, but clearly no prettier than when I started.
© 2015 Tigh Loughhead

Ducati Ben Bostrom Edition 998

 Motorcycle Mall has a yearly European demo day, where they let riders test-drive the new bikes.  Experience riders sign up, and Rich Gonello leads a little half hour tour around East Jersey.

Mayra on the limited edition 2016 Aprilia RSV4RF

Chris in matching attire on a Ducati Scrambler

 though I could have chosen from an 899, a Ducati Scrambler, a Hypermotard, the 821 Monster, the Moto Guzzi V7, a KTM SuperDuke 1290 and a few other bikes.
 A bunch of riders from the DOCNYC showed up, and we tooled around a bit after demoing the new motorcycles. 
 Motorcycle Mall has a number of cool bikes (I've never seen so many new Aprilias in one place), including a guy who was storing a number of late 80's / early 90's Suzuki race bikes,
 most of which looked like two strokes.
© 2015 Tigh Loughhead

Jerry: "Kiss French, Ride Italian"

Clockwise: Shawn, Jason, Joe, Jerry and Sal

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.

"El Hefe" aka "El Presidente"

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.

We pushed on throughout the day, and made it to the border by late afternoon.
My other Ducati at the border crossing.
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.

© 2015 Tigh Loughhead

 Saturday was my friend Jerry's birthday, and a few of us (most importantly his wife) had conspired to chip in and surprise him with a Ducabike clear clutch cover for his treasured 899 Panigale, that he lovingly refers to as 'Domino'.  Though this modification adds absolutely no performance, it's requires a two-piece clutch case off of an 1199.
 We were hoping to make it a surprise, so we rode up early to Rockwell Cycles, and had coffee and a bite at the cafe downstairs.
 We dawdled and delayed over breakfast, and by the time we were done, Gary (Rockwell's Ducati tech above) was almost finished with the installation, including a pretty fantastic header pipe wrap they generously threw in on the house.
We eventually wandered back up to the shop, and only then did Jerry inquire, incredulous, "where is my bike...?"
  Jerry was ecstatic when he found out, and was nearly in tears when he found out, and that his wife supported the idea, despite some recent drama with our Ducati clubs and members.
 Jared and I however, stuck around stuck around and realized that it would be quite a haul to get back to the city that night.
 So, we crashed in Woodstock in Richie Haven's house that Jerry's wife had rented for his birthday weekend.
 © 2015 Tigh Loughhead