It’s important to have a healthy respect for risk.

Sometimes the smartest thing to do is really the dumbest thing. And sometimes, you really should just buy a motorcycle.

It’s a 1987 Cagiva Elefant, and I’m in love.

It’s part adventure bike, part dirt bike, part sport bike, and 100% a poor financial decision.

See, they don’t really make parts for it anymore, so that is going to be a bit tricky. Thankfully Italian bikes are known for their effortless reliability and Ducatis never break down—especially ones from the 80s.

The motor is shared with the 1985 Ducati Indiana 650, and boy, could you never find a more obscure motorcycle or parts to find. But, once you get it running perfectly—does any of the hardship matter?

When you roll on the throttle, your heart surges into your throat and you feel positively alive.

Good decision? Yes.

I got cheered on at a light by a man driving a semi truck. Why was he cheering? I stalled the bike at a green light and get this—the electric starter is broken so I had to kick start the bike. Once I figured out the trick to it, I gave it a kick or two and it turned right over.

While I’d like to rebuild the starter, kick-starting is such a visceral feeling—plus, if you don’t have a working electric starter, it can’t break again.

The logic is sound.

Sorry, mom.

On to the bike

I mentioned it’s a 1987 Cagiva Elefant 650 with around 40k miles. I say that because I’m not entirely sure—the first odometer is in a box with 27k miles on it, and the second one is on the bike with 13k miles on it. This bike is NOT a trailer queen, and although that’s a pretty romantic idea—it does come with some shitty parts i.e. shit’s broken.

So, these are some plans I have for the Elefant:

1. I want to build panniers.

2. Newer tires. The bike came with a parts bin of glorious, rare parts that I will be grateful for in the future. The tires are quite worn/old—so I’ll want to replace them with something a bit more friendly to tarmac riding.

3. A mirror for the right side

4. Bleed that rear brake.

5. A new starter motor

6. New front and rear wheel bearings and spacers

So, I’ll keep this brief, mostly because I want to get out there and ride—but partly because I still don’t know enough about the bike to tell you about it.

When you do dumb things even though you know they’re dumb, is it still considered a learning experience?

My mom seems to think not.

Cheers,

Alex