My approach to bike ownership has been anything but calculated. More like completely spontaneous. When I bought my 1988 Ducati Paso, a flawed masterpiece if ever there was one, I wasn’t looking for one, it found me. The same goes for the pair of BMWs in the garage, a 1973 R75/5 (candidate for best bike ever made) and a 1995 K75 (the perfect appliance) and my 1983 Laverda RGS (1980s grand touring at its best). Like just about every bike I’ve owned, they
