The Ducati 90-degree V-twin we've come to know and love and have watched win Daytona has a new twist, and it's called a Weber. The twin Dell'Or-tos are gone, the rear cylinder head has been spun around 180 degrees and a dual-throat Weber carburetor plonked down in the V. Gone with the Dell'Ortos is the stiff throttle pull no rider will miss, and other than a slight lean stumble just off idle, the carburetion is glitchless and our forearms are now crampless—a wonderful trade. Another Weber benefit is its simple and infinite adjustability; Weber hasn't remained in the carb business for decades because of dumb luck.

The frame engulfs the engine. From the steering stem, a cradle of two rectangular steel frame tubes drops down and under the engine, meeting with a second set of rails that span the gap from the steering stem to the swingarm axle in the straightest path possible. Both these rectangular sections brace the bottom of the steering stem and a third member extends from the top of the steering stem to halfway down the top frame rail. For the seat and tail-section support, smaller rectangular steel frame members are welded on the main unit, forming triangles from the main frame to the rear of the bike. None of this is particularly lightweight or cutting-edge technology, but the welds are neat, the frame rigid and successful. A frame is successful if it doesn't flex under hard sport riding. The Paso frame doesn't flex detectably. We spent a lot of time making sure.

Welded to the frame are all manner of brackets. Brackets to hold the coils, the electric fuel pump and the small sub-frame reaching ahead of the steering

stem that supports the wide headlight and gauges. Under the prototype's bodywork, the brackets, fittings and hoses looked rough, a few didn't work well and a few were missing. All that has been corrected on the production version, and the details have been developed to improve the Paso's underbody function and looks. The dual oil coolers now slide into the fairing lowers on beds of dense foam rather than rely on the rubber straps of the prototype; details such as the oil hoses and thermostat wiring on the right cooler have been updated.

The word details keeps appearing in this test. From the quality of the bar switches to the finish of the welds and tabs, the Paso sets new detailing standards for Ducati. The Cagiva buyout of Ducati has brought updated quality standards. This motorcycle was almost titled the Cagiva Paso until Cagiva's president, Gianfranco Castiglioni, had a change of heart and decided to use the Ducati name. If you've been noticing Cagiva's products over the past two years, you know the company is serious about making motorcycles that compete head on with current (read Japanese) bikes. The Paso is one more big step in that direction.

A few items on the Paso need a little work, however. The bright red seat on our bike matches the Paso's paint well but doesn't fit flush with the tailpiece there's a half-inch gap when the seat is locked in place. In direct sunlight a few of the dash lights are unreadable, such as the turn-signal indicator. At night the red dash lighting makes it difficult to read the clock and gauges, which have red numbers and lines. We had to trace down a faulty electrical connection in the fairing that was causing the lights to flicker on and off. We'd also like a grab rail on the left side under the passenger seat so we can more easily hoist the Paso on its centerstand. A matching rail on the right would provide a bungee-cord fastening point.

The seat-bar-peg combination, which staffers rated between comfortable and terrific, is complemented by the well-thought-out suspension. Each end has approximately five and a half inches of wheel travel, and the suspension units are top-rate and highly adjustable. In back, an Öhlins shock rides in Cagiva's Soft-Damp forged alloy progressive linkage. With adjustable spring preload, rebound damping and compression damping, we could dial in any ride characteristics we wanted. From the company that brought us the buckboard ride of the F-1 comes one of the smoothest-riding sport bikes we've tried. Apparently, the Cagiva-Ducati engineers discovered what the Suzuki GSXR designers know about sport-bike suspensions. The lighter preload settings gave away a little ground clearance, but after we made some adjustments under the left side cover to firm the ride, the ground-clearance problems vanished. Two alien bolts hold the side cover, and the alien wrench is under the seat in the tool kit.

As the inscription on the fork proudly announces, it's Marzocchi's best, the M1R. And again, there are plenty of adjustments. The right leg handles the rebound-damping chore with an external adjuster knob we mistook for anti-dive when we first spotted it. Compression damping is the left leg's responsibility, and if the rider wants it changed, he must change the fork oil—but only in one leg. Air valves hide under rubber spin-off caps at the top of each leg. The M1R complements the rear Öhlins wonderfully. Both systems keep the tires firmly i

from highway expansion joints to braking ripples on a racetrack, and their progressive action allowed our testers to run comfortably compliant settings, but the Paso never felt undersuspended.

The Paso isn't a snap-steerer like the FZ600 or the Bimota db1. At 57.2 from axle to axle, the Paso is medium long, and although 25 degrees of rake and 4.13 inches of trail seem like quick numbers, the longish wheelbase that comes with Ducati's engine layout keeps the steering in the human realm. The 492-pound wet weight, with the 5.9-gallon gas tank full, must also be plugged into the equation. Frankly, we expected the bike to weigh in at around 450 pounds. The minuscule db1 is three inches shorter and weighs 85 pounds less than the Paso, but no testers complained that the Ducati felt heavy. Regardless of the weight, the Paso responds sharply and crisply to steering inputs but not with the alacrity of the above-mentioned bikes.

The wide, squat 16-inch Pirelli MP7-S radial tires have a big effect on the Paso's steering. Initial turning takes a relatively light push or pull on the handlebars, but as the tires roll up on the wide, flat outer contact patches, they begin to resist the turning force. More counter-steering force must be applied to continue to lean the Paso the extra few degrees onto the cornering patches of the Pirellis. Looking at the frayed tires after the test rides, you realize this characteristic didn't bother any of our testers. It just takes a little adjustment in steering pressure at the handlebar. The flip side to the wide Pirellis' handling traits is their wide contact patch and impressive traction under braking and cornering loads. These suckers stick. Our corner entrances and exits were full brakes to full throttle because the radials refused to slide or misbehave in any way. They are quite soft, however, so plan on replacing them fairly frequently; that's the price of premium rubber.

As we noted in the initial test of the prototype Paso, the wide 130/60 front radial wants to stand the bike up if the front brake is applied while leaned over. The monstrous 160/60 rear radial adds to this tendency. More common than braking in a corner is running into the corner with the front brake on. The wide tires force the rider to increase his pressure at the bar to initiate the turn with the brakes on. This tendency isn't as pronounced on the Paso as on the db1. The Bimota has much stiffer suspension, which makes the frame react more quickly to any braking force. Again, our testers noted this tendency but, to a man, feel it can be easily adjusted to.

Nothing about the engine's performance takes acclimation. The power is as seamless as the paint on the fairing and potent enough to whip the Paso through the quarter-mile in 12.89 seconds at 103.3 mph, corrected for altitude and weather. In our 50-mph roll-on the Ducati reached 74.9 mph after 200 yards, compared to 72.8 for the F-1 and 79.1 for the strong Alazzurra 650.

The Paso version of the familiar des-mo utilizes a larger oil pump to keep the slippery stuff pumping through the two fairing-mounted coolers, and the right clutch cover hides a hydraulically operated dry clutch that hasn't given us a peep of trouble. The air-cooled twin, in either production or prototype form, never hinted at overheating even in stop-and-go traffic on hot days running on regular unleaded fuel.

Ducati claims 52 foot-pounds of torque at 7000 rpm, with a maximum claimed output of 75 horsepower at the 9000-rpm redline. Our testers found no point in habitually spinning the desmo to redline because the midrange power is so usably abundant and the power levels off above 7500 anyway. The throttle takes a full half twist until the Weber is

WFO, and the last few sixteenths of an inch of throttle make a big difference. At full throttle the sound reaches its zenith, the slight intake honk meshing with the dual mufflers' shout.

We can thank the full bodywork for the Paso's exhaust music because the engine's noise is effectively muted, allowing the exhaust to flow more freely, or loudly, and still sneak under the U.S. standard. It's interesting that we can thank the red full-wrap plastic and fiberglass body for more than simply putting our hearts on overrun. The body gives the Ducati desmodromic V-twin a second lease on life; the front half of the huge fuel tank masks the Weber's airbox and the bodywork saves us, the consumers, money on the Paso's retail price. An encompassing body allows the engineers to skip the expensive and time-consuming job of finishing the engine case bolts, routing the hoses out of sight or hiding items such as the coils, fuel pump or turn-signal flasher. All these necessary items can be bolted on where they fit, then covered with ABS and fiberglass—clean, neat and intelligent. We hoped the full-coverage body would help keep the price under $6000, but the price is set at $6377. That's high for a 750, but we're betting Cagiva will sell every Paso imported. It shouldn't be hard—just 700 units are slated for the U.S. market in '87.