Moto Icarus

In 2012 Carlin Dunne won a seat on the Ducati factory Pikes Peak team next to Greg Tracy. Throughout the week these two guy's pushed each other into an unreal realm of speed and concentration. The Magician and the Cowboy. Carlin would come screaming by and you'd think,"Wow, how did he just pull that off?" and then Greg would blast by with all the guns blazing and beat the time. It was an amazing thing to watch.

The day, however, fell to Carlin with a new overall record of 9:52.819. He edged Greg out by 6 seconds. They were the only two motorcycle riders to break the 10 minute barrier. For a while with the accidents, DNF's, and rainy weather at the top of the mountain, they almost pulled off the fast time of the day for bikes and cars.

My painting, "Moto Icarus" commemorates Carlin's and the Ducati Multistrada's record run to the top of Pikes Peak. It measures 23" x 31" and is painted in transparent watercolor. I love this view from the 16 mile area. It is the one area on Pikes Peak where the spectator can see a large portion of the course. You really get a feel for the mountain. Plus, it's above timberline so everyone is a little loopy. You get out of your car and walk to the edge and the wind and height and the intense sun and the lack of oxygen make your heart pound and lungs burn and you think to yourself I should get a motorcycle and ride it at 140 mph up here. There is no race course like Pikes Peak. To win it is truly something special.

Road Burner

Last year I met a guy named Sonny. I got to talking to him an he mentioned that he had a Ducati. So I talked him into letting me take a look at it. A black and gold 1982 Ducati Darmah SD900, one of my absolute favorites.  This is my idea of a true road burner.

Sonny not only has the Darmah but also a bunch of Triumph's. He is what I would consider a true motorcyclist. Someone who loves all kinds of bikes, knows a lot about them, collects them, and takes care of them. Motorcyclists are great people.

On a more frivolous note, I like the Tiger on the side covers. It never seemed cheesy to me like the Firebird's screaming chicken. It's cool. Also I like the name Darmah. It makes me think of Jack Kerouac's book, "The Dharma Bums" even though the bike is named after a tiger in an Italian children's book.

This painting is about 19" x 27", painted in transparent watercolor on Arches 300lb paper with Winsor Newton paint. I've created a series of prints of it. I have a signed and numbered Giclee for $275 which is limited to 75 prints. For the more budget minded I have a medium and a small art print, 15 x 20 and 9.75 x 13 inches respectively. The medium sells for $45 and the small $25. The difference between the Giclee and an art print is that the Giclee is the original size, printed on watercolor paper and is a limited edition, where as the art print is printed on a very nice Enhanced Matte and is an open ended edition.

From a Flashlight...

Back in 2011, I had arose early to go attend the third day of practice for the Pikes Peak Hill Climb. Having driven past the midway starting point for the Unlimited cars and I was waiting at a good corner for pictures. Each day of practice the entrants for the race are divided up into groups of three and assigned to either the top, middle, or bottom section of the course to practice on. It all happens very early in the morning.

Early in the Morning

I was standing in the dim light waiting for the course to be cleared for racing. However, instead of roaring engines the sound of a diesel tow truck came up the road. It was pulling a full sized pickup truck and race trailer. Someone was getting to include a broken truck to their race week. The tow truck stopped just past the little gravel parking area I was standing in and began to back up. My immediate thought was that he was going to block my Toyota in with this disabled rig, to which I was not too keen about. However, the tow truck driver knew his stuff and filed the hapless victims of bad luck right in next to me.

Immediately, the racer and his mechanic jumped out and began pulling their Ducati Multistrada out of the trailer. The motorcycles were practicing on the top portion of the course and this guy was in danger of missing his day of practice on the top section. I wasn't seeing any flashlights coming on so I volunteered my flashlight services. (I'm quite valuble in this respect). With leathers on and gas in the bike the racer roared off up the road. Turns out the guy did pretty well during practice that day as well as the rest of the practice days. In fact he wound up doing so well that he went on to win overall in the motorcycle class. It was of course Carlin Dunne and his mechanic Sam Swain. When I later shared this story with Carlin, he told me that he just kept wondering what he'd gotten himself into.

I have been watching the Hill Climb since the mid eighties and I can tell you, showing up as a rookie and winning overall is no small thing. Carlin and Sam had taken a demo Multistrada from the showroom floor, prepped it (which included high performance satin black paint), built a pipe for it and then won with it. The picture below shows Sam in the white shirt.

 Mark Cernicky's and Carlin's Multistradas

I need to point out that the Ducati factory's rider, Greg Tracy, had the unfortunate luck of hitting some oil on race day which sent him down the road and into the rocks. Greg emerged from the crash with little more than bruises and a bent bike and a lot of frustration. It remains unknown if Greg would have been able to beat Carlin's time that day, which is a viable question because Greg had won 6 times in previous years including 2010 on the factory Ducati Multistrada. Greg is just an amazing racer and an exceptionally nice guy.

Later in the week Sam told me that Carlin was frustrated that their bike wasn't that much faster than the factory bikes. They had been banking on their modifications to give them a significant edge over the factory Multistrada's of Greg Tracy and Alexander Smith. Ducatis are pretty highly tuned right from the factory and modifications tend to give rather small improvments usually at the expense of reliability and flexability. Hence, any real performance advantage Carlin had was minimal. His abilitiy to ride as quickly as he was undoubtedly highlights his amazing talent.

Carlin heading for the win

It was from this experiance that I decided to start painting Ducatis. The following year I contacted the Faulkner Livingston / Spider Grips Ducati race team and said I had a painting I'd like to show them. Well guess who calls me up because he and Rod want to come over and see the painting. Cool.

This is my painting entitled Red Mountain.
Carlin on the left, me on the right.

Head Shake Flats

On Labor Day last year, I took a ride down to San Isabel on the 748s. Partially just to enjoy some of the last days of Summer and partially to give myself some perspective on the aforementioned high speed wobbles. I tried leaving at 8 but it was 8:30 before the Ducati barked to life. That worked out well. My first break came 35 miles down the road at the Coyote Den in Penrose for some coffee and coffee cake. I sat on the patio and pulled out a copy of Peter Egan's book Side Glances. I opened it up to the next story which was about Peter and Barbara's first trip to the Isle Of Man. Hmm, couldn't of planned that one any better. While thoroughly enjoying my break I kept noticing a cowboy in period clothing walking around. He didn't seem to be working there. Then I realized that he'd come in on the Harley out front. Oh, that's why he didn't have a hat.

I'd texted my riding buddies the day before to see if they wanted to go but everyone was busy. Riding alone is an interesting experience. It's nice because you're not hindered by anyone else's riding abilities or schedule, or riding faster than you should be for fear of holding someone back. Just you and the ride, which is nice. However, as you go along, you keep seeing things and wanting to share them with the other rider but you just have to keep them to yourself.

The next day my friend Steve texted me saying that everyone got to ride the day before except him. I texted back saying, " yeah all day long I kept looking back thinking where is that guy he is so slow. Then I'd remember that he'd had other things to do." Steve responded, "That. Really hurt." You can see why we get along.

The sound of the L twin is interesting. It always reminds me a little of the mechanical clack/slap of a semi automatic pistol. The mechanical noise almost drowns out the exhaust growl. Like 750 little Italian hammers all tapping away at the same time. Maybe it's time for some Termignonis. Steve has a 900ss with the pipes on it. It's not as loud as my old Z1 was but it's pretty loud. I was riding it one time and some guy pulled up next to me at a stop light and gave me the, "your bike is too loud glare." I gave him the, "Nice Mini Van, your wife help you pick it out?" look back. I really should of said that except I didn't think of it until later.

Well I suppose it goes without saying but my 748s just loved that road to Lake Isabel. The tight little canyon leading up to Hardscrabble is fun. It even has a sign that say's,"Motorcycles use caution!" However, after you turn south at the junction the road is curvy but opens up enough so that the Ducati really began to stretch it's legs. You drop into a long corner and if you need to change lines you just move one way or the other. No complaints. I'm not too fast of a rider but the grand composure of that bike is starting to give me more confidence. I don't want to hang off the seat when I'm in the corner. However, I find I can tighten my line up a little by dropping my inside leg down. It's a nice micrometer adjustment.

Big American bike vs little Italian bike. Mine doesn't have a radio.

On the way back I came upon a couple of new riders. Their clothes were shiny and the newly purchased bikes were being ridden very carefully, meaning, slow. I followed them for a while being content, but soon I couldn't stand it anymore and when I found a suitable straightaway I opened up the throttle and zipped past. Well, mostly past. I'm hoping I didn't upset them. As I was passing the lead rider a bike came around the corner towards us. It wasn't startling as we could see them coming for a bit. However I ran out of space to get by so I just eased in next to our newby until the bike got past and then I completed the pass. I didn't feel like it was dangerous but I fear the guy next to me might of freaked a little. Oh well, now he has a story to tell.

After passing through the town of Wetmore I came to Head Shake Flats. The notorious straightaway that gave me that monumental spook on the Z1. I was interested to see how the Ducati would feel through that same high speed bumpy curve. This time I was traveling alone so I just had to imagine that I was blazing past my friend Steve. What a difference 37 years of development makes. I opened the throttle on the Superbike and watched the speedometer climb. I managed 110mph before traffic slowed me down. In a straight line, around the bumpy corner, sitting up, tucked in, the Ducati tracked like it had dropped into a slot.