It called my name when I first saw it on the showroom floor. The Good Harley Angel on my one shoulder was whispering in my ear, “Don’t go there…it’s the Devil making you look! Don’t let those smooth lines tempt you!” On the other shoulder, the Devil put his hands on his hips and said, “Are you going to let Harley push YOU around?! You are Italian! You deserve to be on the finest Italian motorcycle ever built! GO FOR IT!”

I hurried out of the Ducati dealership before I could be tempted further. I had ridden a Harley for nearly 15 years and had owned my beloved white Heritage Softail for 10. What was I going to do—get rid of “Pearl” and get on this sweet red and black ride and take off for the Amalfi Coast?!

Then an invitation from Cycle World came to do a test ride in Fort Lauderdale. I put on my red cowboy boots, jumped on the Harley and took off for the meeting place. There, a group of riders were just returning from their test ride and as they took off their racing-style helmets, big smiles revealed their experience on the new Diavel which were all lined up, looking like Kentucky Derby horses waiting at the gate. All black, red and black and red—my favorite colors, and I knew that my red boots were aching to get on those foot pegs. Looking back, I must have looked pretty ridiculous—red pointed toe boots, a “Frenchy” half helmet and a black stretch jacket and jeans—so UN-sport bike clad, but at least I was color-coordinated to the bikes. I knew I could speak their language even if I didn’t have the “right” helmet, boots and jacket.

As I sat on the bike, the Harley Angel reappeared and hissed, “I can’t believe you are doing this! You look out of place—you ARE out of place. You are a HARLEY rider—get out while you can!”  More here: http://www.ducati.net/2012/04/the-devil-made-me-do-it/