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It was a classic...
Rhys Jones remembers fondly the Ducati Laguna Seca he owned 15 years ago.
I guess most motorcyclists enjoy reminiscing about bikes they've owned or ridden. At Pukekohe some time ago I saw a Ducati Laguna Seca. It was the image of the bike I owned in the late 80s and early 90s. It even, like mine, had Marco Luccinelli's signature on the tank. The very look of it transported me to halcyon days of warm afternoons and winding roads, of the friends I rode with in those days, and how good it would be to ride that bike again.
I bought the Laguna Seca from a former South Australian racing driver, who actually went to Italy and picked it up from the factory. He'd owned it for less than six months when he fell in love with the newly released Honda RC30, I was on his doorstep with a cheque in the blink of an eye. That same day I rode home on my own Laguna Seca. I was living in a town house in Adelaide, and I remember thinking, 'The neighbours won't like this.' The "race track only" muffler barked with authority. It sounded as good as it looked, but South Australian police were tough on noisy bikes.
The second day out I had been for a spin around some of the finest deserted roads in the Adelaide Hills. On my way back into the traffic I pulled up at the lights behind probably half a dozen cars. At the front of the line was a motorcycle cop. I was trying to look inconspicuous. If that's possible on a red and silver beauty with an exhaust note that can be heard two blocks away. I thought of turning the motor off until the traffic started to move. Then the cop looked over his shoulder, looked again and paddled his bike back until he was alongside me. He lifted his visor, leant over and said "Is that the bike Murray Trenberth brought into the country?" I had time to say yes. He said "nice bike", I breathed again, and the lights changed to green. That was the only time I felt I might have been in trouble because of the pipe the whole time I had the bike. Mind you, I hardly went near the city on it. I think the police in New Zealand are far more reasonable than their Australian counterparts. It is the South Australian police who try from time to time to bring front number plates back, although it is the Victorians who seem to have succeeded.
The Laguna Seca was one of three hand-built factory specials produced by Ducati in the mid-1980s. It was named following Marco Lucchinelli's victory at the famous American race track on a racing version of the bike. The Montjuich was named after Ducati victories on the Spanish circuit, and the Santamonica, which was a hybrid of the two, was named after Lucchinelli's victory at Misano. According to Mick Walker in his Ducati Buyers Guide, these limited edition Formula 1 machines were "stylish and speedy" and both "beautiful and rare".
On his one to five star rating of all Ducatis up to the 1988 851 Superbike, which he gives four stars, the Laguna Seca, Montjuich, and Santamonica are all unequivocally given five stars. This, he said, "was the Italian sportsbike of its era". They were the 1980s versions of the legendary 1973 Ducati 750SS. For the record, the 750SS is the only other Ducati since 1962 upon which Walker bestows five stars.
In his 1988 book Ducati-The Untold Story, Alan Cathcart said "The ultimate Ducati in the classic mode was surely the Montjuich. A hard-nosed, but raucously effective, street racer with the works. In terms of performance, it really was the long awaited F1 Replica the factory had promised but failed to deliver."
The Laguna Seca, and the other specials, represented the end of an era, and indeed the beginning of a new dawn for Ducati. The bikes were the ultimate development of the Pantah engine. I know someone is going to say the Paso should get this mantle. But the Paso, with its rear cylinder, turned 180 degrees to facilitate a car like twin-choke 36mm Weber carburettor, which was never a huge success, and an unattractive square-section tubular steel frame didn't, in my opinion, quite make it. Without a doubt the Paso was a stunning addition to the Ducati stable, but it really had more to do with the new dawn, a sign of things to come, rather than the final and most distinguished result of a 10-year gestation period. The next stage in Ducati's development would see the basic Pantah engine design enhanced with liquid cooling and four valve heads. The beginning of the Desmoquattro era, and Ducati's most successful to date.
This juncture that marked the introduction of the Desmoquattro family had historical significance for two other important reasons. Ing Fabio Taglioni, who joined the company in 1954, retired in 1982, remaining only as a consultant. He was the father of Desmodromic valve use in Ducati engines, and had a hand in the design of almost every Ducati for almost 30 years. He was know to prefer two-valve heads, and with his retirement came the opportunity for his successor Ing Massimo Bordi to start development of a four-valve head. Interestingly, Bordi worked on the Paso. Two others joined him, long time Ducati employee Franco Farne, and the co-founder of Bimota, Massimo Tamburini. The other milestone was that the Castiglioni Brothers and Cagiva bought Ducati Meccanica in 1985. This saved Ducati from near bankruptcy and set the company on a course that led directly to where it stands today.
The F1 and its rarer brothers were raw-boned racers for the road, the epitome of the grand Ducati tradition. Producing around 70hp and weighing only 168kg, the Laguna Seca was a potent package. There was nothing on the bike that wasn't essential. The centre-stand on the standard F1 was left out, an aluminium swing arm replaced the tubular steel one, and in the cosmetic department the standard Ducati instrument panel was replaced with Veglia Borletti dials surrounded by foam. The Laguna Seca also had camshafts with a sportier profile and bigger valves. The 40mm Dellorto carburettors instead of 36mm carbs on the standard F1 Brembo Gold Seal brakes were also a feature. Only 200 Laguna Secas were ever made, and specifications on the bikes varied. Like the Montjuichs and Santamonicas, some of them even arrived in the packing case with slick tyres.
The bike was effectively outlawed in the US. It was too loud, and had not a trace of air filtration or emission control. The bikes that did go to the US all had slick tyres and no indicators, and were designated for track use only. They were almost politically incorrect when they were made, and by today's standards totally unacceptable in most countries. They were raucous and exciting sports machines with little attention given to anything except going fast, handling well and stopping. Modern sports bikes will do all those things, in most cases better, and satisfy the increasing demands of our noise and emission regulators, but there's something about a bike that is built not to please a bunch of bureaucrats, but to satisfy the people who are going to ride it.
Another indication of the purposeful nature of the bikes is that the Laguna Seca and the Montjuich had no pillion accommodation, although the Santamonica and standard F1 had optional double seats. The F1 had an 18in rear wheel and 16in front. If this was done to quicken the steering it worked. The others all had 16in front and rear. The Laguna Seca was at home on the track. I remember spending an afternoon at Malala, which in those days was a very tight bumpy circuit, with not a very long straight. I could get to a shade under 200kmh before I ran out of straight track and into a sharp right-hander. On another occasion the Italian motorcycle owners' organisation was allowed several laps of the Adelaide Formula One Grand Prix circuit before the cars got onto the track. That was a very different experience, and I was able to red line the tacho just about all the way around the famous street circuit.
Perhaps the most enjoyable thing about the Laguna Seca was that it was possible to use all the bike's power. It was a beautifully balanced combination of weight, power, and handling. And, compared with modern machinery, it was so simple. I used to balance the carbs by ear. It was a matter of getting the two slides to click at precisely the same time as they hit the bottom of the chambers. Tyres have improved a lot since then, especially for wet weather riding. From memory, I used Pirellis and always Agip oil. I don't recall ever having serious mechanical problems with the Laguna Seca. It certainly wasn't a versatile, go everywhere, and do anything bike, nor was it meant to be. I think the longest time spent in the saddle would have been a day's ride from Adelaide to Melbourne, which must be about 700km. I don't remember any ill effects or discomfort.
Around 1989, a friend bought an 851 Strada, the first of the Desmoquattro fuel-injected superbikes for the street. He let me ride it and I was surprised how civilised, and almost sanitised, it felt after my bike. The claimed power was 88hp, 18 up on the Laguna Seca, but at 204kg it was a massive 36kg heavier than the earlier bike. It would be many years before I sampled later versions of the bike, not, in fact, until the 816 powered Monster that I've been riding for the past 12 months. For what happened after the introduction of the Demsoquattro bikes see Ian Falloon's book Ducati Desmoquatro Superbikes, which is reviewed on page?
I have fond memories of the Laguna Seca, and who knows, maybe someday, somewhere, I may get the opportunity to own another one.
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