Or can they?
Ask anybody who has done it and they'll tell you: moving house sucks balls. Moving house internationally? It sucks big hairy sweaty balls!
Seriously, forget Guantanamo Bay and invading foreign countries in the "war on terror", just make any bad buggers continually move house for the term of their sentence and they'll soon mend their ways.
So the bikes were always gonna get packed up and sent with our "stuff" (where does it all come from?!) but first you have to jump through the bureaucratic rings of fire to get import approval. From a paperwork point of view it wasn't too onerous, both bikes were track only so no hassles with registration etc, which also made things easier at their end: no ADR or licensing requirements, just check the paperwork/photo's against the bikes when they rocked up. Wait...did someone say photo's? No problem with the 749R, but BIG problem with the 851 strewn around my garage! So I didn't have any option other than to just throw together as much as I could, if nothing else it would make it easier to transport.
Mutton dressed as lamb? Sheep in wolf's clothing? That about sums it up with some half decent race fairings, Corsa-fied carbon intake/dash, good front end/suspension and nice wheels, cloaking a sedate stock as a rock 851. It ain't flash but this is what was transported:
No, I'm not a fan of the tinted screen either, and the single exhaust was thrown together by a mate just before we left. It isn't quite as we discussed so it's kinda aesthetically challenged but under the circumstances I wasn't complaining. The fairings included a later style 851/888 tail rather than the "fuller figured" early 851 unit I prefer, just something else to add to a list that never seems to get any shorter.
So the property is sold just waiting for settlement, import approval has come through, and the bike shop who helped me out with my racing were putting on a track day: time for some fun!
It was a good opportunity to thank them and fly the Ducati flag on the 749R. Awesome, don't do anything stupid, just a low key fun day with some mates. And that's exactly what it was.....right up until the bike sort of staggered exiting a corner. No, not a crash, just a hesitation like it tripped over itself, and the note/feel changed. I looked down to see the oil pressure light on so I quickly whipped the clutch in and the engine instantly stopped dead. WTF?
Luckily I'm not far from the pit entrance so I coast on in. I park up, let it cool down and tentatively hit the start button, only for the starter to labour, barely turning the engine a single revolution. It was a very long, very quiet drive home.
The next day I drained the oil and there shimmered a sight that would warm the cockles of a gold miners heart...and this in the oil filter pre-screen:
Righto, that would be one set of big end bearings "kangaroo-Edward" (roo-ted). With only a few weeks until the move and a list of things to do a mile long the only realistic option was to just quietly put the drain plug and screen back in and ship it as is.
