I dug up some photos.
Sad photos.
Brake fluid was seeping from the rear reservoir tank, and there were no problems during the morning ride.
I thought I could just wipe it with a tissue and be fine—but no way!
On acceleration, the rear slid out dramatically from an almost straight line.
My slow reaction made me think “whoa,” and I just opened the throttle more.
Then the rear snapped back to center and locked up—lock to lock.
Human strength can only hold on for a few seconds, and while I was getting tossed around going “aaah,” I crashed.
Oh no—just as I thought that, smoke! Fire! It was burning!
No good! Never mind the impact of the crash—dash, dash, dash!
The fire coming from under the tank was helmet-sized and showed no sign of going out.
The marshal was waving a yellow flag yelling “get back, get back!”
When I slapped the fire with my gloves, I just fanned the flames and made it burn even hotter.
Hmm? This is bad.
I yelled “fire extinguisher!” at the marshal.
And they shouted back “we don’t have one!”
What?
I thought for a few seconds.
1) Escape to safety as is
2) Wait for the fire truck
3) Uh…
So I tried throwing sand from the ground at it.
And what do you know—it weakened! This is it! This is the way!
I kept throwing sand, and just as the fire was nearly out, a fire truck showed up with an extinguisher.
With a “whoosh” and pink smoke, the fire went out. Thank goodness, thank goodness.
But it wasn’t over yet—I had ridden there under my own power.
I went to the control tower and they let me wash the bike, but it didn’t get clean at all.
The engine started fine—voltage was good!
Lever half-broken, pedal half-broken, handlebars all wonky—what do I do with this?
But I was confident I could get it moving and make it home, so I went to the Ducati team and borrowed some tools.
Sorry, I crashed a bit ago, and I need to borrow some tools.
Somehow, sadly, I made it back to the shop.
AIM meter damaged, single seat broken, silencer trashed, chrome tank all dented up.
And that adds up to tens of thousands of dollars in repairs.
The Kangaroo one-piece suit and gloves are about to get holes in them too.
At least I didn’t get hurt.
