With a track weekend last weekend, and a dirt bike camping trip scheduled for next weekend, how would we fill this weekend? My husband Jim and I decided to go on a tiddler tour of Whidbey Island. I rode the 1966 Ducati Diana, and Jim rode the newly acquired, but yet to be restored, 1978 Yamaha XS650. It had been a long time since I rode the 250cc bevel-head single. For one thing, it’s tiny. For another, it’s loud with its reverse megaphone pipe with no packing. For yet another, it loves to be ridden hard. If you are too gentle with the throttle, it will spit and cough and throw a fit by dying in the middle of an intersection. Did I mention that its kick start only? On the LEFT side? Shifts on the right? GP style? But when you do get it up to speed, this bike looses all - ok, most - of its vibration (my toes were "fizzy" for the entire ride), the engine quiets down to what could be described as a purr in relation to what it sounds like at idle. The bike is happy at 60mph.

 So, we took off to Mukilteo, past the world's largest free-standing hangar at Boeing's Paine Field (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paine_Field) to catch the ferry to Whidbey Island. At first, riding the bike at speed was scary. The front end felt really light and I was paranoid that I'd get into a tank slapper. But it seemed like once the tires warmed up, the wobble went away and the bike rode better after that. So all was good. 

We parked in line with a few Harleys headed the same direction. Luckily, we parked on a slight decline, so I easily bump started the bike to ride it onto the ferry. Once parked, a ferry employee said he would make sure that no "walk ons" (pedestrians) touch our machines. We thanked him, and then Jim and I headed upstairs for the short jaunt across the water. The weather was perfect - brilliant sunshine with crisp air you only get in fall. Mt. Baker was in plain view. People were flying gigantic kites off the beach as we departed. We stood where we can look down on the bikes in the parking bay. There was a man taking numerous photos of the Diana. We watched to make sure that all he does is take photos, and we noticed that the ferry worker was casually standing nearby as well. Thank you!

 The ferry ride to Whidbey was short, so we headed down to the bikes to get ready to disembark. I tried to kick start it, but didn't get the hang of it. You have to have finesse with this bike. I'm plumb dry on finesse it seems. Jim however - maybe it’s his Italian lineage - kick started my bike from the off side, then kick started his own from the conventional (right side), and off we went. We got off the boat and I realized that I have no idea where we were going. Oh! The Ducati doesn't have mirrors or turn signals either. I guess they didn't need them in 1966? Or maybe it has to do with the old saying by Italian guy on "Gumball Rally": "What is behind me, she don' matter". So I signaled to Jim that I don't know where I'm going, but he stayed behind me - probably to do all of the signaling for me? Most likely to make sure that the Ducati kept running.

We rode north towards Coupeville behind the Harleys. The little Ducati is keeping up with no problems. I even started to giggle at how much fun this thing really is to ride. Intersections were still an issue. If the light took too long to change, the bike would die. There were a couple of times that it died on a green light with cars waiting behind us. Jim played hero all day by jumping off his bike, kick starting mine, and then kick starting his again so we could take off.

Since I was leading and I was still not exactly sure where we were going - if we were taking any side roads or going straight - I saw a sign for Fort Casey and took the left. We had discussed going there at one point. I headed up to the entrance passing a long line of cars headed the opposite direction. Towards the back were two motorcyclists motioning for me to slow down. I giggled at that since my speedo had been bouncing back and forth between about 60-70 all day. Now it was bouncing between 30-50, but I wasn't catching anyone so I thought that was good enough. It turns out there were two county sheriffs at the top of the hill with a radar gun. Luckily, I was going slowly enough. That or the bike was so loud they forgot to look at the reading on the gun! Just slightly down the road from the sheriffs, I pulled over to talk with Jim. It turns out that he wasn't planning on going this route at all, but it was a nice detour.

About ten miles later, we found ourselves in downtown Coupeville. It is a small town, where the main street is mostly antique/boutique shops. There are two restaurants and one tavern - Toby's. It had to be the place to be since all of the motorcycles were parked outside of it. We parked on the end of the long line of bikes. Before I could get my gear off, a bystander was asking all about the Ducati. What year? Did we restore it? Are the clip-ons original? I got my helmet off and earplugs out just in time for him to say "Out of all the bikes here, you have the most interesting one". We smiled and thanked him, and walked into Toby's.

The place was packed. All the tables and the bar were full. We decided to try the other places, but they were a bit more formal than what we wanted just then, so we went back to Toby's and waited as a couple at the bar paid their tab. We enjoyed the best fish and chips on the island, along with an order of tasty calamari - a must have while riding Italian bikes. The bar had lots of Navy patches and posters on the wall. Jim found the emblem for his old squadron, the Zappers (VAQ-130), on the window. By the time we left, half of the other bikes were gone. We decided to visit the Whidbey Island Navy base so I could see where Jim was stationed in his previous life. The entrance we chose was coned off, but we got a few photos of the sign there. Jim pointed out the machine shop where he spent most of his time. By then it was time to start back to the ferry.

We rode south on the same route we took northbound, but we stopped at Penn Cove (http://www.penncoveshellfish.com/) for more photos. This cove is famous for their oysters and mussels. It was also here that I took off my right glove to show Jim how red my hand was. It had started to hurt on the way south. The grips don't have any cushion to them, and I was gripping too much because of the vibration. We both mentioned how tired we both felt. Riding old bikes isn't as easy as riding the smooth powerhouses we have today! Jim offered to switch bikes, so with me on the XS and Jim behind me on the Diana, we head south again. Did I mention that Jim is my hero?

Riding the XS650 after being on the Ducati for 50+ miles felt like I was riding a Goldwing! Big and cushy, plus I couldn't hear it! It took me a while to adjust to the riding style and learn the quirks of this bike 10 years newer than the one I just got off of. Everything felt like it was in slow motion and a bit detached. Where the Ducati was pronounced, the XS was vague, including brakes! The Ducati actually has better brakes than the XS. Go figure. We rode along catching up to a car whose driver is site-seeing. I stayed behind him because I was still getting used to the surreal differences between the two bikes. Then I noticed that the sound of the Ducati was getting steadily closer, and closer, and closer. Jim was passing me...slowly. He came up even with me, waved, and continued to pass the car...slowly. It was the goofiest thing I had ever seen. Jim is 6'2" and 240lbs, and he was riding a bike that stands about 29 inches at the seat. The rear tire (and the front for that matter) is 1.75". Not the meaty 6"+ of modern bikes! The site of him making this slow by steady pass up a long straight hill around a car was hilarious. I laughed out loud in my helmet for the next 5 miles.

We arrived back at the dock in time to watch the ferry come in. Neither bike wanted to start once we were instructed to board the ferry. Motorcycles get to board first, so ALL of the cars were waiting for us. Doh! The trip back was uneventful. We watched a seal thrashing a salmon as we passed by. Then it was back up the hill and home. Beautiful day, nice ride, great company, and no parts lost.