One successful legacy of the T.P.G. era is a line of bikes harking back to popular racing models from the 1980s. “I really like the retro bikes,” Terblanche says, “although the term retro is a misnomer. They’re just really good motorcycles that some customers prefer to the leading-edge machines.”

But Terblanche is well aware of Ducati’s dilemma. Sitting in his disheveled home studio in Bologna, he says, “In market surveys, the design component is always the No. 1 concern.” Buyers’ tepid reaction to the 999 was a huge disappointment for T.P.G. Worse, a rule change in U.S. superbike racing put Ducati at a competitive disadvantage, making the 999 a loser both on the track and at dealerships. “The sales curve began to level off,” Lock says. “The 999 was the public face of Ducati’s problems, but they were bigger and deeper than that.”

For T.P.G., “turning the company around was a lot harder than they’d thought,” Brown says, “and they had to borrow more than they’d planned.” T.P.G. also had to sell a lot of stock. The crowning insult was Cagiva’s launch of Tamburini’s MV Agusta, a superbike that instantly became a must-have.

Running Ducati wasn’t like running Neiman Marcus. T.P.G.’s fading interest in its new toy was becoming obvious to customers, and the cultural divide was stark. “The Italians manage from confidence,” Lock says. “When things are going well, they’re unstoppable. And when things are going badly, they’re also unstoppable.”

After several years of slowing momentum, Ducati made a sharp turn in 2005 back into Italian hands. T.P.G. sold just under 30 percent of the company—most of its remaining shares—for about $50 million, to Investindustrial Holdings, a Milan-based private equity group run by Carlo Bonomi, a popular voice-over actor, and his brother Andrea, a renowned soccer player. (­Investindustrial declined to comment for this story.) The remaining 5 percent went to smaller investors. Minoli, who remained Ducati’s chairman, managed the sale. The Bonomis installed a new C.E.O., Gabriele Del Torchio, formerly with the Ferretti Group, a builder of luxury yachts and sport boats. In 2007, the 1098 superbike delighted critics and got high-end consumers’ pulses racing again. “Our credentials were in some doubt,” Lock says, but the 1098 represented a return to form: Its sales are running five times as high as those of the 999.

Ducati’s problem is now, once again, one it can live with: too much demand. Lock says U.S. sales are up from 4,600 bikes in 2003 to more than 10,000 in 2007. Even with its enormous price, the limited-edition Desmosedici has generated more orders in the U.S. than has the Multistrada, one of the least expensive Ducatis.

Ducati increased its revenue in the first nine months of 2007 to $464 million, 44 percent higher than in the same period in 2006; operating profits soared more than 200 percent, to nearly $40 million.

Of course, a fortuitous 2007 doesn’t guarantee a rosy future. More and more of the company’s customers are first-time Ducati buyers, not obsessives. And the strategy of selling handmade Italian craftsmanship clashes with the ambitions of large dealers who are less interested in promoting a boutique brand than moving significant quantities of motorcycles out of the showroom.

By the end of 2008, 1,500 Desmosedicis will roll off the line; the entire run is expected to sell out within two months. A prince from Dubai is first on the list.