"I haven't ridden one of those in probably 30 years," Smart exclaimed after returning. "It is amazing how well they steer. The chassis does feel very much the same as the racebike, and the engine characteristics do, too. It's probably 20 horsepower less, but it has the same wide torque spread. The fairing is not as efficient as the racebike's, and it feels like you're falling off the bike, you're sitting so far back. But the point is, you're riding a bike whose heart is the same. One thing Ducati has managed to do is take the racing-bike feel and translate it to the street."
Smart endorsed the classic Avon racing tires on both bikes-patterned after the tiremaker's vintage rubber but using modern race compounds. "They are incredible, aren't they?" he mused. "It's amazing just how good they are. The tires definitely contribute to the fact that these old bikes can be ridden as hard as they can."
But he definitely didn't like the Scarab braking system on the Super Sport. "The brakes on the racebike are really good for their age," he continued. "They work extremely well and people are still using them in classic racing. But the ones on the streetbike feel leaden, sallow and unresponsive."
So far we had established that the hallowed 750 Super Sport, the derivative of the Imola racers, was indeed from the same breeding stock. Despite some missing ponies and flaccid brakes compared to the factory bikes, it still honestly and emphatically established Ducati as a superbike builder.
But the big leap was yet to come. While less than two years passed between the creation of the Imola racebikes and the 750 SS, some 32 years-and numerous architectural changes-separate the greenframe from the new Sport Classic PS1000 LE. Mechanically, they share little except their 90-degree engine configuration and a few ounces of silver and turquoise paint. Would Smart find any connection on the track?
He jumped aboard the borrowed PS1000, flicked up the sidestand, thumbed the starter button and motored up the pit exit. Already, it was easy to see a dramatic difference. Like all modern motorcycles, the fuel-injected PS1000 LE is utterly simple to use. No flooding the carbs, no fishing for TDC, no leaping on an awkward kickstarter and no fogged faceshield when the thing won't fire. Smoothly and much more quietly, the PS1000 accelerated onto the racing line. After a lap to warm the tires, here came Smart, whooshing down the front straight. Hunkered behind the windscreen, those same black leathers looked equally at home-or more so-than on the old bikes. And he was going faster.
After slinging past the pits, the PS1000 shot into the braking zone for Turn One impossibly late-or so it seemed. But by the grace of the big twin-piston brakes, Smart got it slowed in time, neatly dropped it over and accelerated out of the turn and away. Lap after lap, he cut smooth lines in the corners, ripped down the straights and dug deep into the brakes. And when he was done, the PS1000 murmured back into the pits as contentedly as a coed's scooter.
"The geometry is very contemporary," Smart began after removing his helmet. "You get lots of feedback and it still feels very planted, especially in fast corners. I really do believe a steel frame gives great feedback-just like on a bicycle. This is not a highly tuned engine, but it does make a tremendous amount of torque so you really don't have to rev it. Overall, though, the modern tires, suspension and brakes are really what separate it from the old bikes. In comparison, the frame and engine are probably the least developed."
He then made an unexpected announcement. "The bike that surprised me most today is the old streetbike," he said of the 750 SS. "I thought I would go out and do one or two laps and put it away. But if you just ride it smoothly and pick your line, it's really very nice."
Hungry for a decisive conclusion, we cornered the genial Mr. Smart and asked him which bike he'd select if he had time for just one more session. "I have to be honest: It's the new bike," he confessed. "Everything works and the machine is far better than the rider in my case now. You can just go out there and ride it as hard as you can until you run out of tire."
It's a good thing Smart said that, because when serendipity hands you a chance, you'd better make it count. Now 35 years removed from that fateful day at Imola in 1972, we can finally rest assured that Ducati did just that. And that in the Paul Smart 1000 Limited Edition, the Holy Spirit lives on.