This may have been a mistake. Out for a Sunday ride on the Blade in the early '90s with three mates, me on my trusty Fireblade, said mates on Ducatis - an 888 and a couple of SPs. Hooning down some good twisty roads it was clear that the Dukes had huge grunt out of the corners, leaving the Blade to carry out screaming catchup into the next bend. The Blade certainly had it on top end over the Ducatis but it was hard work using it, they just drove out of the tighter turns so well.

Right, time to find out what this V-twin thing was all about. I blagged a standard 888 for an afternoon's testing. After nearly headbutting a couple of bends I realised that V-twins are deceptive - that chugging motor leads you to think you're doing 70 when it's more like 100 in reality. The ride convinced me that a Ducati was the way to go, but I didn't fancy all that taking the heads off and reshimming the valves every 3 thousand miles. Remember, the 888 had a lot more milk chocolate in the valve system than modern 916 variants do.

A bit of investigation revealed that the only alternative was the 900SS series, air cooled two valve twins with adjustable tappets ... so, cheap to service. The best of a slightly sad bunch was the Superlight - single seat, ummm, that's about it really. Anyway, it looked tricker than the billy basic 900. So I ordered one.

Now you may query the wisdom of ordering a clanky old air cooled two valver when I'd only ridden the water cooled four-valve 888. And you'd be right. The Superlight arrived and it looked quite good, handled OK, had no power whatsoever, and was bloody crude. To think, I'd chopped Total Control in for this.

Not put off, I attended the next Sunday meet to mix it with the Blades, ZXRs and GSXRs, plus the odd Exup. All went fine until we hit a quick bit of road. I went from first to last in about 10 seconds, the Superlight topping at at about 130 (and I reckon that was optimistic). Everyone flew by me in a howling blur of Jap 4 cylinder mayhem, leaving me to putter along behind on my £8000 Suffolk Colt.

Stopping at the end of the road for ciggies and banter, I was greeted with laughter and howls of derision as the overheated Superblight sat pinging away to itself as a ton of cast iron cylinder slowly cooled down.

That was the first and last ride out for the Ducati. To put it kindly, it was not up to our riding style and was rapidly consigned into oblivion for the renewed joys of a Japanese parallel four.