The only reason for time is so that everything doesn’t happen at once, Einstein used to say. For whatever reason it exists, time still is the most scarce commodity in human life, and because of time, or sadly the lack off, our Race 1975 Ducati 350 had been stranded in the house for more that she’d ever liked. Then, about 8 weeks ago, Wheels & Waves Chief, Vincent Prat, asked me; What are you gonna race at the Punk’s Peak boy? I froze >>> FUCK!@ >>> Suddenly I’d realized that I had no bike to have fun with the lads! Good old solitario… It wasn’t until then that the little Ducati came to my mind. She was fine the last time we kicked the nuts out of her tiny motor… But we needed a plan and it was our children that sparked the light. Their favorite movie Princess Mononoke they said. Like a shark locating a bleeding knee I jumped on the phone and called my dear friend Manolo “Osiyuyu“. We’d been talking about doing something together for ages but never actually found the opportunity to do it, and now it was crisp & clear. This was our chance. Manolo is an amazing restorer, the sort of guy that could bring a Velazquez back to life if things had gone wrong. With him at the helm, I knew the bike would look astonishing.
Photo © MSS Sylvie
Then time kept getting in the way, as usual again >>> Until the day before W&W, when the Mononoke’s war colors arrived from Osiyuyu’s land! We changed the oil, added new gas, jumpstarted the old duc and went for a spin. Everything sounded right and sound. Ok, Check! Secured it in the van and drove to Biarritz. The morning of the Punk’s Peak everything was going wrong. The huge hang over had me & the team with obscure sights. The rain & the traffic didn’t help either. Twenty minutes before the race, where the fuck was the FUCKU van?!?!??! Inside the van, lost in some basque country road, were Sonic Seb’s Sprint Beemer and lil Mononoke. Barely ten minutes before the race start Mr Wolf made it with the FUCKU van. OK Check! It was time to race. Pushed the bike on the starter. BRAAAAP!@# Heated it up a liltle, the flag dropped, GAS! 1st gear, Braaap, 2nd gear, Braaaaap… GRRRRRRRRRR… The piston seized, hand on the clutch and slowly drifted to the curb. Charlie Brown striked again! It wasn’t our call that day.
Photo ©Manuel Portugal
Frustration was peaking but anyways it wasn’t that bad as the punk’s Peak vibes were so absurdly cool to watch and hear that acceptance soon mutated into kid’s fun!
Glemseck 101 next
Photography by KT Fender
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