|No sorry, all my Ducatis were, well, rather tatty. All my best work was done on pieces of ratty steel stuck inot the wall somewhere. I'm bikeless now, got a car licence at age 40 and still wonder why i thought that a motorbike was the perfect climbing vehicel. I remember days bolting at the Freezer and then climbing and then trying to control the Ducati Mille all the way back down the Bells line of road, too pumperd to brake or pull the clutch in.
Also having Glenn Robins riding on the back of an 860 Ducati on the Bell road in a group (including Giles Bradbury on his Pantah), he was wearing a rope on his back that kept migrating towards the rear wheeel and he stood up on the pegs to sweep it under his butt as I pitxched inot a tight corner and he fell off the bike, but clung to my pants and ground his leather clad shoulder inot the tar all the way through. he was stoked and everyone else thought we'd practiced it.
I know the road very very well, and actually got past 2 Dicati 916's in heavy fog in my Volvo a few years back. When it cleared they came by at 300 kph sounding like God's trombone.
After racing a lot of the fun went out of road riding (like soloing 28's and being banished to Ali's). Ah, but a real 125 GP bike, 13 seconds a lap faster at Oran park thna my old Ducati superbike in the early 80's, 62 kg wet, 220kph. A bicycle on acid.