The Champers First Ride: 2014 Ducati Multistrada 1200 S Granturismo

By Paul Fenn

Contributing Editor

If you crave silly horsepower with sit-up comfort and tech that channels it all nicely to suit each of your multiple personalities, you owe it to yourself to seize this bike.

I’ve just finished 10 boredom-obliterating days in possession of the 2014 Ducati Multistrada 1200 S Granturismo. I’ve taken it around town by day and night, along roads smooth and rough, on expressways fast and gridlocked, on tertiary roads paved, gravel and unmaintained, plus a few easy washboard-riddled dirt switchbacks and some basic trails (even though I was told not to).

This is it, my friends

The Multistrada is the most thrilling and intense bike I’ve ever ridden. Where to even begin the praise? How about unearthly power? It is not only faster than a speeding bullet, but a speeding bullet would simply turn around and crawl in shame back into its casing, were it fired alongside a Multistrada moving at full hoon. I don’t think a faster, more comfortable, ridable, up-for-anything, fun-pumping and addictive machine exists – except possibly KTM’s 1190 Adventure (and I hope be to testing one very soon).

The Multistrada can only be called the product of highly unstable minds sluiced with extraordinary engineering erudition and touched by something singular, something that is only found in the older cultures. I am the son of a British Spitfire pilot. I grew up seeing that glint in my father’s eye as he told of his WWII dramas in Europe and Asia.

And now, having finally popped my Ducati cherry, I feel a need to travel to Italy and deepen my knowledge of what informs the minds that craft machines of this order (see you at EICMA in November). For Ducati’s designers and engineers have their shit sorted. They are all Valentinos. They understand speed and the importance of having it now and in appalling handfuls, pretty much same way the American military machine understands ultraviolence delivered with cold impunity.

So in case there’s any doubt

I love this bike more than anything manmade that I have ever seen, touched or owned. I feel its soul, and in it a rare anger. This machine gave me a new appreciation for perfectly-packaged freedom, ludicrous velocity and easily triggered dangerous behaviours all set against a sad little world tamed by the cautious and the litigious-averse.

That all said, if you are to own and ride this bike to its fullest, you will need to make certain promises to yourself. And if you wish to continue living more than a few hours, you will have to keep them.

Now, a bit of context

My own ride is a 2009 BMW F800GS, a bike that sits comfortably in the upper reaches of the adventure taxonomy. I’ve put over 87,000km on it since buying it new, including a recent Toronto-Los Angeles round-trip of 10,000km. Weekends, I ride out to forest roads, dirtbike trails and fairly technical single tracks with amigos, most of whom also ride big ADV bikes, such as the BMW R1200GS, F650GS, Yamaha 1200 Super Tenere, KTM 950 and 990, Triumph 800XC and Kawasaki KLR 650.

I have ridden many of these, one or two of which I’ve written about on this site. In all, I’ve sampled a good selection of the ADV bikes on the market, in periods ranging from hours to days. So for the purposes of this review, I’ll say I have a half-decent idea of the current offerings, and what constitutes a viable, tourable dualsport motorcycle.

Comfort strapped onto a missile

The first curve you ever negotiate on your new Multistrada may well give you pause. During mine, I leaned in, I countersteered, and still I felt an odd resistance to my will. The second curve came easier. A few more and it dawned: this beast is not letting go, not letting me down, but only as long as I inform it, in no uncertain terms, of my intentions.

The best thing about how the Multistrada takes corners, and everything else it encounters? It has 500 Einsteins beavering away below, fixing all your sloppiness, inexperience and fear, while smoothing roads that years of salt and overweight truck traffic have rendered less than perfect… but more on all that in a sec.

The most brilliant thing about this bike is how, when riding normally, you feel you’re enjoying the most prudent, comfortable motorcycle ever made. Then you gun it, and there’s nothing sensible going on anymore.

Electronica extraordinarica

While riding the Multistrada is like riding a giant two-stroke with a 7000-rpm-wide power-band, it’s loaded with countless sophistications of an electronic nature. Most are accessible through a single button and viewable on the iPad-proportioned dash screen.

Its four ride settings, Sport, Touring, Urban and Enduro, seemed a bit superfluous – because who would willingly cut 150hp down to 100 just because you’re in town or on gravel? But I did so, for you, and would agree that Touring made the highways smoother and less intense. That Urban flattened dozens of Torontonian frost heaves and pot holes. And that Enduro made washboard switchbacks rather less harrowing.

But Sport is where it’s at, and that was where I lived for 98% of the time. There are also suspension settings that accommodate luggage and people in four configurations. But since I couldn't convince anyone to get on the back, I can only guess that they work as well as everything else.

Seating pleasure in spades

The seat is probably the best I’ve sat on yet. It easily passed the half-hour test. Few others have, given my meatless rear-end and simian tailbone. But on the Multi, I cruised for many hours at a time and never once gave my ass a thought.

Other little details I loved

The mirrors. Simply amazing. Great view behind, very little vibration at any speed or RPM. The keyless ignition / steering lock was also damn handy. And I loved not having to get off to fuel up – unlike the GS I ride. The adjustable on-the-fly windscreen is a great idea, but the screen’s a bit too small to really keep the wind off my helmet (I’m 6ft, 32-inch inseam) on the highway. If there’s an aftermarket one that harnesses that quality and offers a bit less facial blast, grab it.

As for riding kinetics, the bike’s balance and centre of gravity are perfect, as was the ground reach for me; flat-footing it I was. There was no ready tippiness that some big ADV bikes (like mine) have, no danger of keeling over, even when creeping along in heavy traffic, on truck-rutted pavement.

A note on the look

Some say the Multistrada looks geeky. And I will agree that it lacks some of the swashbuckling features of its racier brethren. But then it’s a different bike built for a wide variety of purposes, and I am not fussed by its aesthetics one bit.

Let us now be critical

Is this a great touring and ADV bike? In theory, hell yes. But in determining how to answer that, I had to ask myself a couple of things more than once. Such as: In designing and producing the all-plastic luggage that comes with the bike, did Ducati consider real-world factors like dust, mud, rain, falling over, or the ability to lock-up one’s belongings when leaving one’s ride out of sight?

Because on this loaner, yes, I could lock the luggage to the bike, but I could not lock it against thieves. The topcase would not let me latch it closed, period. It and the panniers, while quite nice to look at, seem a hasty, injection-moulded afterthought. I doubt they would suffice on any serious road trip besieged by typical touring or offroad conditions. If the aftermarket stuff’s available by the time you’re reading this, it’d be well worth looking into.

Another odd thing was when I went to stand on the pegs through bumpy gravel terrain: There was no way to stand with the ball of my left foot on the peg without my heel pressing down on the centrestand. That’s easily fixed, and should be, Ducati.

Now I am no engineer, but when you pin an engine at 2500rpm to execute a quick lane change in angry traffic, and the engine accommodates, but not without a clatter indicative of dire lugging, should this be considered a long-term source of engine health? The power was there, but it required large grabs of throttle, and the sounds from beneath were disconcerting. Over time I learned to use more revs and longer clutch engagements for low-speed maneuvering.

A couple of other curiosities

Can the ABS be shut off without first having to take a course? Rear wheel skids are a big part of my life and they were missed. Is the cruise control button located under the seat? Actually there is none, and that needs to be remedied if this bike is to be taken seriously as a tourer. How do I set the clock from Italy time to EST? And finally, false neutrals between higher gears were a thing.

Even more curious, dropping it into neutral from second when coasting to a red light, I’d sometimes get false first when actually in neutral, and vice versa. Very minor annoyances, but there, nonetheless.

A bad thing I did

Late one night, I decide to experiment on a 1/3 mile stretch of road where the foreground is well lit and there’s zero chance of human or other encounter, other than an ill-advised raccoon or rodent. Much of it is bridge and it’s as close to a controlled, well-paved environment as one is likely to find in all of the Greater Toronto Area at that hour.

I carve through the corner in second, twist the throttle steadily all the way open. As the unusually-mapped power band’s gates are breached, roundabout 5,500rpm, the front wheel lifts ever so sweetly… not a vicious three-foot upward heave, just a manageable elevation of the nose – and this with my weight forward, chin inches above the bars. The engine then does its mad shape-shift from throatily laboured wheat-thresher to Deepspace Fucking 9.

An eye peels itself enough away from the mounting G-force for a glance at the dash where some 12,000rpms suggest I upshift for even more fun. Third gear under full throttle ushers in a newer and, frankly, much more intimidating level of controlled mayhem. The front wheel is well up again, and I realize I’m soon to be out of runway: I must either cross the looming intersection as a blur, or return to sanity at once.

I apply the brakes very hard and sit up, but not before clocking a kph not commonly seen on speedometers in urban settings. The experience of braking fully is utterly cartilage-straining and every bit as sure as the acceleration. We’re down to a placid 30kph in time to make a left through the green light and burble on homeward.

The above description, the entire paroxysm of terrifying ecstasy, occurs within a space of two seconds, if that. On arrival home, moments later, I am giggling like a child in a jello fight. Chris Isaac’s ‘Baby did a bad, bad thing’ starts running through my head as I turn into my driveway, killing the motor halfway up and coasting, so as not to wake the baby next door.

Loves

Power. Raw, snarling, mile-high stacks of Ducati-branded horsepower. And sweet sounding, without being neighbourhood-quaking.

Brakes. The antidote to above.

Seat. Tour-ready and kind to all your shapes and sharp bits.

Handling. Instruct clearly and ye shall be delivered wholly. Hungrily eats curves, and at slow speeds offers a nice balanced feel, with very low COG.

Dash. It’s all there, and pretty much with one button. Simple enough to read and use, but a bit tough to know if I had it all at my command. As in, how do I kill ABS in a hurry, correct the time, email my mom?

Lights. Bright, small and reassuring. Included aux lights make it even nicer and can be used at night without getting hi-beams flashed at you by oncoming traffic.

Electronics. I can live without them on lesser bikes, but can’t imagine how to improve on the Multistrada’s, with two exceptions: It needs an ABS insta-kill button and cruise control.

Likes

Looks. Much improved from earlier model years. Still, not sure about giant nostrils in a foot-long crow’s beak. The rest is very fine and classic.

Sound. Love the modest but serious exhaust note, which goes full psycho between 5,000-12,000rpm. But below 4,000, it feels like you’re really kicking the V-twin in the guts when gunning.

Doubts

Luggage. It's plasticky and non-fantasticky. Hard to figure out why they settled for this, other than it’s a Ducati and Euro-riders only take along a change of bikini underwear in their back pocket. Topbox wouldn’t latch properly. Nothing locks shut. I wouldn’t trust this stuff to a tour of a nation any larger (or dodgier) than Singapore.

Pegs. A bit far back and if your feet are bigger than size 6, your heel pushes down the centre stand arm. Fix it, please.

Offroadability. It’s far too sexy to risk that paint and body work on a day out in the deep rhubarb. I would be heartbroken if I dropped this in a glutinous mudhole, on rocks or during a river crossing. And it’s too low to be a true rough terrain contender. Gravel and easy trails at most. And that’s all very reasonable for a bike costing $23,295.

Fuel consumption. Man, this thing sucks it when you get flagrant, but is reasonable when you don’t. I suppose you can’t feed 150 horses on sweet talk alone.

Windscreen. Adjustable, but so what. When it's a choice of in the chest and face, or in the chest, face and everywhere else, why the hell put a screen on it at all?

Cruise control. None. Not even an included Go Cruise. An unconscionable omission.

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Many thanks to Ducati North America for providing the Multistrada to ESR. Please note that the company neither reviewed nor approved this article.