0/10 also to J K motorcycles in Stirling for being "too busy" to help, despite my being 400 metres from them. 10/10 though to Strathearn Tyres in Crieff, who stayed open until I finally turned up then fixed the problem promptly and efficiently - they even managed to have a spare Diablo Rosso Corse on standby in case the nail had caused internal damage to the tyre. And a big fat kick in a very sensitive place to the bloody AA, who were, in timing, design and execution, culpably useless.

• The Pannier Lids: While the panniers are well designed for the most part (particularly the handles and locks), it's mildly annoying that the cutout for the exhaust in the right pannier prevents it from taking a full-face lid (something fixed by the optional wider lids). What's a lot more annoying is that the lids themselves are, frankly, pants: there's a 3-4mm gap twixt lid and body at the front, into which the rain does pour. Not good, but Ducati have acknowledged the problem and claim to be working on a fix.
• The Centre Stand. Presumably in an attempt to provide the maximum leverage for getting a fully-laden 'Strada onto the stand, Ducati have made the stand's arm far too long: it fouls the rider's left foot and pushes the stand down, causing it to ground out far too early. And, if you're like me and ride with the balls of your feet on the pegs, as the pace rises and you put more weight on your feet, the stand gets pushed down further and grounds out more readily the faster you go. Not a good combination. Again, an acknowledged problem and we're waiting for a fix.
• The Termignoni Carbon Slip-On Exhaust (official Ducati accessory): The heat shield for this bulges out so much that it's impossible to place your right foot properly on the footrest. It also fouls the centrestand spring, pushing the stand down and causing it to bounce against the bike when riding. Ducati have already issued a redesigned replacement heat shield and I'm just waiting for mine to arrive.
• Low-rpm surging: I've mentioned this above and some bikes seem to suffer more than others. I've not been particularly plagued by this, but there is a new software map to install, so at least some attempt has been made to address this.
• Pillion Position: this gives me an occasional speed-related pain in the kidneys. Nothing to do with the comfort but with the fact that the step up to the passenger perch means that my beloved can easily see the speedo. Ignorance used to be bliss…

And that's about it: the encouraging thing being that all real problems have been acknowledged by Ducati, so we'll wait and see what they actually do about it. There are a couple of other warranty tweaks to be done, but nothing that's affecting the use or ability of the machine.

The Multistrada 'S', in either Touring (panniers, centre stand & heated grips as standard) or Sport (lots of carbon fibre) guises, comes in at a wince-inducing £14295 – admittedly only a little more than a fully-loaded GS but still a goodly chunk of dosh. There is however a base model that's a very good value at £10995 (£11700 with ABS) – it lacks the panniers, stand & heated grips (which total the best part of £1000 as options) and substitutes Marzocchi and Sachs suspension for the S model's Öhlins. But it still has the traction control and engine modes, so what you're missing there is the electronic suspension adjustment and the basic quality of the Öhlins suspension. Both worth paying for in my book, but a personalised revalve of the Marzocchis and a rebuild of the shock to suit your weight and riding style will also yield major benefits for a lot less than the difference in price between the two.

Myth and Mystique

There are a few myths that really should have been be put to rest years ago: that England can play football, that buying a GS will fill you with an irresistible urge to head for the Polish border and that Ducatis are prone to breaking down if you insult their mother's cooking. This is about the last of these.

I've done about 120,000 miles on my various Ducatis and have broken down exactly twice on the road, both times within a month, one due to undiagnosed corrosion in the electrical harness of my '02 ST4s, which now has 50,000 miles on the clock and the other to a faulty third-party replacement ECU, which had gone in as part of the diagnostic process. That's it.

In the meantime I've lost track of the amount of time I've spent on tour waiting for tow trucks for GS' with broken gearboxes or final drives, hunting for new rectifiers for VFRs (a problem they did share with late 90s Ducatis) or scouring Northern France on a Sunday for oil for BMW boxers. So nothing's perfect, but my longish experience of Ducatis tells me that, used properly (ie ridden hard and serviced on the nail) they've certainly not been more of a long distance risk than anything else out there.

Servicing is another matter: not only have servicing costs been cut (Ducati claim by 50%), but service intervals for the Multistrada are now up to 7,500 miles for an oil change and 15,000 miles for a full "Desmo" service.

There certainly was a time when the Ducati factory would create an inspirational engine, wrap it in a finely-honed and minimalist frame, then clear off for a vino and rather forget about the rest (mostly rooted in the Italian government's protectionist measures of the 70s that stopped Ducati – then state-owned – from buying non-Italian peripherals). But even my 1980 Pantah had German electrics and Japanese instruments and, with the exception of a dodgy patch in the early to mid-nineties, things have been improving ever since. And, with the Multistrada, it's clear that Ducati are making a bigger effort than ever before – recognising that they're pulling in people used to BMW levels of service (actual or mythical), they've got a new head of QA who used to do the same job for Audi and the factory has even called me on a couple of occasions to check how things are going and to respond to my complaints about the panniers and centre stand.

And I don't usually name my machines, but the Multistrada was crying out for one, so it's now officially The Raven – 'cos it's black, beaky and has an evil glint in its eye. 'Nuff said.

Da Capo

The world turns and bikes – good and bad – come and go. But here we have an all-rounder that doesn't just excel at sporty touring: in my 'umble opine it moves the experience to a whole new level. And it just happens to be a Ducati. Meanwhile and elsewhere, there's a new king of the ultimate sports bikes, and THAT turns out to be a BMW. That's not so much the world turning as turning on its head. My self of thirty years ago wouldn't have believed it. I'm not sure I believe it now. But I'm still buying Ducatis. At least I can afford to service them now.

There's also been a lot of speculation online about the cost of even a trivial off-road drop on the Ducati – whereas a GS will simply land on its cylinder heads (most of the time), the Ducati will go right down on its side unless the panniers are attached. So, In my unending quest to bring enlightenment and knowledge to the world, I have taken one more tiny step towards Zen mastery, Grasshopper, and can confirm that it is in fact possible to drop the Multistrada off-road and suffer precisely no damage: Turning around on a local forest track, I ran out of steering lock (which is in fact very good) and decided to hop off to back 'er up, only to discover that, being in Enduro mode, the ground was further away than I thought. A lot further away – the bike went past its balance point, at which point whether or not it's 20kg lighter than a GS became entirely moot – it's a big, tall bike, and it was gone. Having convinced a couple of passing deer that very bad-tempered bears had been reintroduced to the Highlands, I hauled it back upright. Not a single, solitary scratch, scrape or ding. Relieved, impressed and relieved, in that order.

VFRs don't really get a look-in, I'm afraid: personally and, despite all its manifest virtues, I've had no time for the VFR800 since they mangled the once magnificent engine with V-TEC and chain-driven valvegear in 2002. The new VFR1200 – motorcycling's Jabba the Hutt – is so compromised by its weight, poor tank range and small panniers that it really can't count. Which is a great shame as, pre-reality, it was the only other machine I'd seriously considered as an alternative to the Ducati.

The closest in both concept and ability to the Multistrada is probably the current Triumph Tiger 1050 – another excellent and improbably quick road bike. I haven't ridden one for a while, but memory suggests that the Ducati is more comfortable, especially for a pillion, is a deal quicker (the Tiger is about on a par with the ST4s, which is made to feel like a moped when coming back from the Multistrada) and has higher quality suspension. The Tiger however is a very useful couple of grand cheaper than even the entry-spec Multistrada.

A Word From 'Er on the Back...

I was a teeny bit concerned when my partner, whilst counting the days (and hours, and minutes) until he could collect his new Multistrada, announced that he was about to invest in some new and more effective body armour for the both of us. I guessed that the new beast might just be a little faster than the current one.

It is, of course, and not just a little. But it doesn't feel like it! It's smooth, gliding, effortless. And big. Being used to leaping, cat-like (ahem) on to the back of an ST4s, my first comparison was that getting on to the back of the Multistrada is like getting aboard a horse that's seventeen hands high after riding a 14.2 for years. There's considerably more effort involved.

But it's solidly comfortable up there. It's quite an upright riding position, but that's fine, just something to get used to. Being able to see over my chauffeur's shoulder to the display is a new and fascinating addition. I can guess the speed we're doing, only to find I'm usually short of the mark; the Multistrada's very deceptive.

I'm still adapting to the almost luxurious cushioning of the seat, for although it will doubtless be a joy on long haul rides, I'm finding that my contact is somewhat lessened as we negotiate the more technical aspects of the 'climb and drop' roads around here. Again, something to get used to, and at the time of writing, tweaks are being made to the suspension, so we'll see. Quite a novelty - that feeling of not so much perching, as sitting comfortably.

I can't see me ever being tempted to nod off though. It's a yell - a thrill and a privilege to be on the back of - and at least 9.8 on the Grin Scale. I can't wait to climb back on again!

• 142 real horsepower delivered at the rear wheel (according to Bike magazine's dyno – on which the latest GS has just under 100). More to the point, in taking 20bhp off the top-end of the 1198's engine, they've stuck it all back on at the bottom end and mid-range – below 6750rpm, the 'Strada makes way more power than an 1198, which itself isn't notably short of low-end grunt. For perspective, a 2010 Honda Fireblade puts out roughly 75bhp at 6000rpm. At the same revs, the Multistrada is punting out about 90bhp. Sure, the 'Blade has another 20+bhp at the top-end, but the rider has to wind it up first. Meanwhile, the Multistrada is over the hills and far away…
• An all-up weight around 225kg – about 20kg less than a GS, about the same as a VFR800 and just under 20kg more than the current generation of litre-class sports bikes.
• Multiple choices of engine map: full power delivered as fast as you can twist the throttle (wherein it does exactly what it says on the tin), a more relaxed delivery of the same power for touring (especially good for avoiding Nodding Dog syndrome two-up) and a very laid-back 100bhp mode for urban and off-road use.
• Electronically adjustable suspension for everything bar front preload, with four different modes available, each with four sub-modes (labelled solo, solo+luggage, two-up and two-up+luggage), giving a grand total of sixteen suspension modes, all controlled from a handlebar button by an idiot.
• ABS, naturally.
• Traction control, with eight different levels of intervention.

More to the point, all of these bar the ABS are integrated, so that when you switch modes, all adjust at once. And all are completely customisable: you can change settings and assign new settings to any mode or sub-mode. There is also (thankfully) a "Numpty" button to take everything back to stock settings once you've terminally confused both yourself and the bike. Oh, and you can switch modes whilst riding –€“ something I was a tad dubious about ahead of time, but it does prove to be a real boon on the road –€“ I can leave Edinburgh, hack across the wet city cobbles in Urban mode (low power, soft suspension and traction control ready to pounce), flip into Touring mode on the motorway (high but relaxed power and firmer but lightly damped suspension to cope with those tedious motorway miles), chop into Sports mode when I peel off onto the glory of my local Highland roads –€“ despatching most visiting sports bikes in the process – and, finally, drop into Enduro mode for the last three miles of broken single track into our village and the near-mile of motocross track that masquerades as our drive. Works for me and the modes really do make a difference to the feel and usability of the bike in each situation.

Most frequently used phrases whilst riding: "Wooo-Hooo!!" and "Holy S**t!".

Least commonly used phrases: "Are we nearly there yet?" and "What's on the telly?".

But don't get the idea that this is an unreconstructed hooligan of a machine: it certainly can be, but it's biggest talent is being able to adapt to suit your mood and intent: want to bimble along a beautiful coastline? Do so. Want to mix it in the fast group at a track day? Fine, no problem. Commute, Tour, Play – all are within the machine's ambit and always just a button push away. The toys work.

Climb aboard the 1200 and it's a tall but narrow bike – seat height, at 850mm, is on a par with a GS in low-seat mode (there's a 25mm lower seat available as an option). I'm 1.83m, longish in the leg and wouldn't want to be much shorter and have a 'Strada. It does carry its weight well though and, once on board, feels much lighter and more compact than a GS. Pulling away, the clutch is no more than moderate by Japanese standards and rather lighter than Ducatis of yore. And the traditional Ducati overture of a dry clutch that sounds like a bag of spanners on a spin cycle is relegated to history by the adoption of a wet slipper clutch. I rather miss that. And, having moved off, the whole plot is light and pliant – the overall feel being that of a well-balanced and responsive machine with the pilot nicely poised at the heart of things. There isn'€™t a huge amount of fore and aft space on the seat before you butt up against the step to the pillion perch, but I very quickly got used to that and now find it rather reassuring, especially under enthusiastic acceleration.

Onto the open road and wind it on a bit – in Touring mode, the bike simply leaps forward – any revs, any gear – and accelerates hard until it reaches about 6000rpm, at which point it really starts to take an interest in proceedings. In Sports mode it doesn't bother with even that modest build-up and just launches itself like it's been bungee'd to the horizon. This is a seriously quick bike. And, unlike most previous Ducatis, it's not notably over-geared – sixth gear is described by Ducati as an overdrive (they claim top speed in fifth) which rather concerned me as I much prefer bikes that are geared for optimum performance rather than as a nod to economy. I needn't have worried – there's so much power and torque on tap that sixth remains a perfectly usable road gear. It's also the most town-friendly Ducati, which is a relative term, as v-twins just aren't that comfortable at very low revs, but whereas most need 3500 revs to avoid the lurch'n'shudder effect, the 'Strada is quite happy from under 2500rpm and trundles along happily at 30mph in third. There is a slight surging from the engine at these constant low revs, from which some bikes seem to suffer worse than others – there's now a software update and a tweak to the cylinder air valves (no, I don'€™t know what they are either) to address this and mine is having that installed soon, although I don't find it a major problem. Vibration is low, and mostly of the usual large v-twin variety – a low frequency throbbing that smooths out with speed and which never intrudes – even the large and useful mirrors are tolerably clear at most revs (and are improving as I get more miles on the bike).

This new generation of Testastretta Evo-engined Ducatis are rather different beasts from earlier bikes – the now-classic 748 and 996 would build power quickly and punchily but fairly softly by comparison and the smaller twins were definitely the smoother and sweeter engines. Of the recent machines, I find that the 848 retains that earlier generation of delivery and character whilst the 1098/1198 are something else entirely – with a big torque step in the midrange that makes it very difficult to keep the front wheel down. The Multistrada’s 1198 11° (named after the valve overlap angle if you really must know) is more linear and progressive here but, in Sport engine map, has real hair trigger responses – it does take practice to develop the degree of subtlety with the throttle necessary to ride it smoothly in high power mode. After 3000 miles though, I'm finally calibrating my right hand to the fineness of control needed and absolutely loving the responsiveness of the engine, but I can imagine that if you're coming straight from something like a VFR it would be a bit of a shock.

At constant speed cruising, I am a complete addict of the steady thrumming of V-twins, finding them very relaxing and without that high-frequency component from some fours that can be very tiring. I'd always valued the linearity of the throttle response on the 996 engine in my ST4s but, going back to that now after the Multistrada, the 996 feels like the throttle is attached by rubber bands, such is the linear punch from the newer engine. The 'Strada does however retain have that bipolar feel of good Ducatis though – below about 6000 rpm, it's relaxing and very quick, delivering with a rather muffled bellow - above 6000 there's isn't so much of a power step (certainly not like a VTEC VFR800), but the delivery changes and – once run in – it then heads for the top end of the rev range like a Scotsman heading for the bar in happy hour, with the engine note changing to that wailing drone that nothing but a Ducati (or indeed a Scotsman heading for the bar) can make. At that point it changes from being merely very quick to utterly, hilariously insane.

And that's the engine, something which dominates first impressions of the bike – this is truly one of the great motorcycle engines.

All of which is a major slight to the frame and cycle parts. On the stock, very impressive, expensive and currently unobtainable Pirelli Scorpion Sync dual-purpose tyres (which still just about have useful tread after 3000 miles and a track day) the 'Strada is a neutral and progressively steering machine – it turns quickly and positively, with a light touch that takes time and practice to get used to if you're coming from a narrow-barred bike like a sports tourer or outright sports machine. At first I found that it didn't turn in with the alacrity I'd expected and had a tendency to run wide on corner exits. That was until I realised that, because the steering was much lighter than that of my other bike, I was gripping the bars too hard so that, on countersteering to start a turn, the combination of my grip on the unweighted bar and the leverage of those long bars was slowing and limiting the rate of turn. Workman, not tool. Once I'd worked that out, I found I could turn quickly and accurately, scything through long sweepers and flicking through the twisties like an oversized supermoto – the 'Strada is a rapier to the 1198's scalpel: marginally less precise but a damn sight more fun to play pirates with. If you're really getting a move on, toe sliders are the first things down, followed by the footpegs. If you've got the centrestand fitted, the ironmongery hits the road rather sooner. The high riding position is also probably worth 20bhp on it's own – the longer sight lines it gives you make forward planning and overtake decisions dramatically easier.

The downside of this light steering and the high riding position is that the bike will occasionally react to crosswinds or passing the bow wave of large trucks with a slight and brief wiggle from the bars. It doesn't remotely affect the bike outside of motorways and mid-corner stability is stupendous, in the defining manner of Ducatis.

The ֖hlins suspension does its usual magic carpet act and every click of adjustment (via the setup function on the dash for everything bar the front preload and a bloody great spanner for that) makes a noticeable difference. What isn't so good is the stock rear spring – I'm guessing that Ducati work on something like a 75kg/50kg rider/passenger combo, meaning that us larger Northern European types (ahem) run out of rear preload adjustment very rapidly. After bottoming out a few times two-up, even at maximum preload, I've ordered a heavier rear spring, which should sort matters out. Cutting down on the pies may also help.

The brakes – ABS-assisted Brembo radials – work fine but seemed surprisingly weak at times, until I realised that I was entering bends 20mph faster than my thought processes – this machine takes the famous "Ducati Deception" of actual speed relative to perceived speed to a whole new level, even after you've allowed for the 8% over-read on the speedo (which Ducati even document in the manual). Some journalists have claimed that the ABS is over-eager, but I've so far not found it so, even on track – I've only had it kick in when deliberately trying to provoke it. Your experience may vary – braking definitely isn't my strongest point as, being a Scotsman, I feel culturally obliged to avoid wearing out expensive brake pads – my original RoSPA test report included the nicely understated comment that, "Richard has an occasional tendency to substitute his considerable faith in his machine's abilities for the Speed phase of The System". God knows how it would have read if I'd had this bike at the time.

I also now know what the traction control really feels like. I'd initially only had it cut in when the bike had unloaded off crests and gotten a little air, so having the wheel out of contact with the road at the time really didn'€™t count. The other day we had a lot of rain. Then a lot of sun. Then both at once, so by the time I was heading out it was wet, but drying in patches, but the grip 'should' have been just fine on that particular bit of road. Left-hander, moderate speed and moderate throttle on the exit when the back end stepped out. I was in Sport Mode so it went a fair way and I was just getting my reactions together to gingerly back off the throttle when the bike got there first – it picked itself up, fishtailed a few times in a nicely and progressively damped fashion and carried on – the immediate sensation was rather like having a rapid puncture. There was no violent correction or over-correction (which I suspect would have happened without the DTC) and it was nicely unobtrusive in action – I could almost believe that I'd gotten it back unaided. Almost. This was the biggest slide I've had on a road bike and I simply can't say if it would have come back without the software, although I'm not prone to throwing bikes up the road. I do however suspect that, because I know the DTC is there, I'm getting on the power harder and earlier in the wet, and this was payback time.

The windscreen is adjustable vertically by about 100mm – I've found that I tend to leave it in its lowest position, where I get a certain amount of wind pressure but no serious buffeting. But this is such a personal thing that everyone has their own opinion – one rider's supportive breeze is another's howling gale – and there are already a whole range of official and third-party accessory screens available if you so desire. Overall, and for me, I'd rate the wind protection as a slight improvement over the (fully faired) ST range and noticeably better than a GS. Wind noise is certainly there and various owners have commented on it, but I hadn't actually noticed it until others made comment – again, I suspect this to be a case of what you'€™re used to.

Lights. Ah yes, those… Now the Multistrada 1200 has four (count 'em) headlights: the two outers of which are permanently on as dip beam, switching to the two inners for main beam. Flashing from dip lights up all four. Now you'€™d think that with a clean design sheet and modern CAD systems to work with, making lighting that '€˜just worked'™ (TM Apple Inc) would be a bit of a no-brainer, wouldn't you? Not a bit of it: whilst the '€˜Strada'€™s dip beam is OK-to-decent, main beam is so bad that, the first time I rode after dark and flipped main beam on, I genuinely thought a fuse had blown – I took to riding on dip and holding down the flasher when I really need a little more illumination. The problem seems to be that they'€™ve set the main beam up for range and not spread, so that distant road signs and itinerant UFOs are lit up from several miles away but there's absolutely nothing closer to the machine, which could be considered something of a disadvantage for night travel. I’m going to try an HID upgrade on the main beams, but without huge optimism - as with the atrocious stock headlight on the ST range, it seems to be a problem of beam design rather than raw output.

Now for that other bane of aspiring touring machines: tank range. The 'Strada has a 20l tank, which Ducati claim should give a 200 mile range. Now if you kept speeds even vaguely sensible (for which read, "legal") over a tankful, that would indeed be achievable. And if you can do that, you've got a great deal more self-control than I have. I usually end up filling up at about 160 miles, with the range remaining indicator on the comprehensive digital dash showing about 20 miles. The fuel consumption display is about 10% optimistic but the remaining range indicator is Germanically accurate: when it reaches "0 miles", you'd better be ready to start walking.

Staying briefly on the topic of bodily fluids, I've also just put some oil into my machine for the first time: about 150ml needed at 2700 miles, so that's been consumed since the oil change service at 780 miles. Not bad at all, especially compared to certain flat twins of common experience...

But how the world does change: it's 2010 and we're in a new age of motorcycling (crystals and tepees optional), where bikes compete on techno overkill, on race-derived kudos and in niches within niches ("Sir is looking for a V8 two-stroke motocross scooter, with built-in penguin catcher? In pink? – Step this way…"). So it takes a brave manufacturer to launch a machine that seeks to create a niche for itself by filling many niches –€“ aiming to be, if not all things to all riders, then at least many things to most of us. Which is exactly what Ducati has done with their new Multistrada 1200, the machine with which they're pitching – in part – for a share of the lucrative adventure tourer or 'tall-rounder' market, a market created and dominated by BMW (latterly aided and abetted by a couple of under-employed actors) with their GS series. It's also a market segment that's growing rapidly and is, in the process, squeezing the 'traditional' sports tourer market where Ducati's now-defunct ST range sat. Their own previous offering in the adventure bike market was the original Multistrada, the tall-rounder they launched in 2003, using Ducati's venerable 4v air-cooled DesmoDue engine rather than the superbike-derived Testastretta power plant. Very much a 'Marmite' machine, it's a complete hoot to ride but does lack the ultimate power and space for most peoples' idea of sporty touring.

So what now follows is a real-world view of the bike from the perspective of someone who's shelled out their own money for it, rides in all weathers and does so both solo and two-up.

The graphs below show the electronically adjustable bits of the system and the stock settings for each mode and load (for the Preload settings, the higher the number the greater the preload and, for damping, the higher the number the 'lower' the damping effect). Whilst there's a mostly logical progression - increasing rear preload and commensurate increases, particularly to rebound damping as the load rises, there are a few anomalies in various modes that I'm still trying to work out. Also, rear damping is jumped right up in Two-Up+load in Sport mode - a bigger difference between any other mode and we're finding that Touring mode is generally a little undersprung and damped and Sport mode slightly overdamped. I've a feeling that the rear shock might need respringing - I probably weigh a tad more than the target Italian norm...

But, back to our regular programming: I may not have my bike yet, but I have at least managed to download the 200+ page owner's manual from Ducati's web site. That's a good start to the ownership of a machine that rivals a Space Shuttle for control complexity. What's even better is that the PDF of the manual is perfectly formatted for reading on an iPad, which makes life much easier, not to mention cooler. Now I see that Hyundai will be shipping their new Equus saloon (sedan if you're west of Newfoundland) with its manual on an included iPad. Ducati, are you listening here?

Where I now live, things seem to be generally sensible: no fixed cameras, strong enforcement of urban limits and a high days-and-holidays police presence at biker gathering spots like the Green Welly, where they're promoting Bikesafe courses and wandering around mumbling slightly abashed comments like, "Take care out there lads...". Several plain clothes plodmobiles (cars and bikes) tend to be out and about at similar times, but I've seen relatively little bad behaviour or general numptiness by the local Police.

Go for a long ride though and, as you pass from force to force, you'll see a wide variety of approaches: from the engagement-driven attitude of places like Durham and North Yorkshire (both of which have amongst the best safety trends in the country) to the outright hostility and bullying control freak mentality of places like North Wales and Northamptonshire. When I ride into the latter County, with its huge "You ARE Being Watched" signs everywhere, I am seized with a near uncontrollable desire to behave in a manner outrageous, illegal and undignified (not necessarily in that order). On the same ride, I'll then cross into Buckinghamshire and find signs along the nicer roads that tell me what the accident rate for that road is for a given period. Thanks, you've treated me like an adult, given me information and I'll act on it. All is then peace and light.

Still awake? OK, amidst all the machismo posturing, did you spot the bit from two minutes in? The bit where the police motorcyclist splits between the cars he's overtaking and the oncoming cars at 90mph? That's a closing speed of about 150mph with inches to spare on either side whilst running over the white lines and the associated crud. Let's now deconstruct the behaviour in a bit more detail:

• He's put himself completely at the mercy of the reactions of every other driver involved, with no safety space whatsoever for a manoeuvre that in itself is going to cause fear alarm and any consequent reaction in those exposed to it. Basic training 101…
• He's entirely failed to read and plan his ride – after those two oncoming cars the road is clear – had he just used observation and forward planning and rolled off for half a second, he'd have made his overtake cleanly and safely, without shock and awe.
• He's on a plain clothes bike - all the motorists involved would not have known he was Police and would, once they'd recovered from the shock, be thinking, "another dangerous idiot of a motorcyclist – must write to my MP and get them all banned".
• Oh yes, he was dangerous, illegal and bloody stupid.

Had any policeman seen any of the rest of us pulling a stunt like that, do you think that he or she would let us off with a, "My, what a finely judged manoeuvre – I just thought I'd stop you to commend you on your riding"? I think not…

There isn't one law for the police and one for the rest of us: we're all subject to that same law (one of Peel's basic principle of policing being that they are us – citizens in uniform) and we delegate minor exemptions to that for police officers in training or in a genuine pursuit situation. This was neither, but an egregious breach of the contract between citizenry and citizenry-as-police. Which is what the police so often utterly fail to understand – by behaving like this they abrogate any authority they might ever had to set an example to the rest of the world. I'm not setting myself up here as a higher moral authority: at any given time my riding may be somewhere along an axis between the desire for fun, the utility of the journey and the state of my license. What I will always do is my damnedest not to compromise safety. And I certainly won't video myself behaving like an idiot and post it under the guise of a road safety promotion.

So I'm offering £60 to anyone providing definitive proof that that same police Hayabusa has been confiscated and crushed and the rider convicted for this offence.

Now things have changed. A lot. Motorcycles are very different from what they were in the early Noughties, as is my life. They're faster, more sophisticated and more expensive. My life is has probably managed two of those three, but with a complete transplant from the depths of the overcrowded Home Counties to the wilds of a Highland Glen. New life, new places, but still with love and mammals. What hasn't changed is that I still live on some of the finest biking roads on the planet, so the basic need hasn't changed:

I still want a SPORTS tourer. More than ever I need the virtues of comfort, adaptability and a decent tank range – the last of these being utterly essential, given the distances between filling stations hereabouts – Highland Scotland is four times the size of Wales, but with the population of Cardiff. That makes for a lot of empty roads, motorcyclists for the entertainment of…

And heated grips have gone from being a luxury to a necessity.

So, nothing new for years, and I've even been mutterlng darkly about sourcing a newer second-hand ST4s, which of course proves impossible as every other bugger is also hanging on to theirs.

But lo, what's this looming over the horizon? After a year of spy shots of a disguised Something that looks, ah, remarkably like a bike of Multistrada configuration but with a superbike engine, Ducati have now revealed the new Multistrada 1200.

But it doesn't end there – like the proverbial bus, after nothing new for years, two new sports tourers have come along at once, the other of course being the much-hyped Honda VFR1200. Apart from sharing capacity and technology overload with the Duke, the Honda couldn't be much different whilst still claiming Sports Tourer credentials and possessing two wheels. Whatever you think of the looks (I rather like them and will accede that both bikes induce a touch of the Marmite syndrome), a closer examination of the Honda suggests that Honda have missed the ballpark altogether with this one: They call it a Sports Tourer, yet it weighs a claimed 267kg wet, well into that lardarse class; They emphasise the touring credentials, yet give it a ludicrous 18 litre tank which, given the traditional dipsomania of Honda Vs, probably means no more than 140 miles full-to-fumes, which means looking for a gas station from about 100 miles onwards. What sort of self-deceiving idiocy prompted them to do that? And, if any further proof were needed that bad marketeers and accountants and not engineers and riders are now in charge at Honda, just look at the clumsy teaser marketing campaign for the bike, that started a year ago and built such huge expectations that reality, whatever its nature, was going to disappoint, even if it hadn't been so comprehensively out-teched by the Ducati. And if you need any reminder of the seismic shift in the bike market that now has the European makers as the clear all-round technology leaders, this is it.

And whatever possessed Honda to fit bog-standard ABS to this machine – their technology flagship – and ignore one of their real technological masterpieces – the sublime system from the current Fireblade? Honda do at least plan to release a DSG auto-box version sometime next year, which will of course add weight and potentially remove another element of rider satisfaction and skill from the riding equation. Now that might sound odd from someone who's just been enthusing about traction control and ABS, and I do feel somewhat uneasy about their impact on rider sensibility, but at least they only come in at the extremes, whereas a missing clutch is missing all the time.

Time now for a little disclosure: This may so far have sounded like a vague attempt at a balanced thought piece on the merits of these very different motorcycles. I hope so – despite my long Ducati allegiance, I've always loved Honda V4s (current VFR800 excepted) and it wouldn't have taken much to have me looking that way. The VFR1200 though is a huge disappointment and, with that pathetic tank range, actually unusable for its intended role: I suspect that the loud whirring you'll hear as a VFR1200 goes past won't be the exhaust, but the sound of old Soichiro – Honda-san – spinning in his grave.

So, M Domenicali, I've kept my promise – I'm now looking forward to you keeping yours: delivery of a black Multistrada 1200S, with all the trimmings, as soon as you like…

Now it's a question of when: the plan (for want of a better word) is to pick the bike up from Snell's then ride it home to the Highlands via some of the favourite motorcycling roads and places in the UK – Helmsley, Buxton, Hawes, up through the borders thence onwards to Loch Lomond, the A82/84, then home, taking pics and blogging along the way (I helped invent the technology so may as well use it!). If timings work out, I may even be able to cross paths with John Montgomery, he of the first UK customer order and the source of the Milan show photos in this article.

The consequences of this aren't just limited to the motorcyclist and his or her (almost always 'his') family and friends but affect the local community: firstly, this is the only road South from here (without a 50-mile detour), so when it's closed for most of a day it has a real local impact. Secondly, and mostly importantly, people here are genuinely upset about the sheer bloody waste of life that's going – I haven't spoken to a single person who's anti-motorcycling in any way, but to many who are affected by the knowledge that another life has been needlessly lost on our doorstep and who genuinely feel the sense of lost humanity. While writing this blog entry, I've been approached by several friends and neighbours, each asking me if there's anything at all I can do to raise awareness of the specific risks of this road. So here it is.

It's not speed per se that kills, but speed in inappropriate times and places (of which there are many on the A84) and differentials in vehicle speed, which tend to be very high hereabouts. The recipe is a combination of the generally poor standard of driving with erratic, slow-moving tourist traffic, local chav yoof running on testosterone and single-figure IQs, equally brain-dead reps (watch out especially for Vectras), holidaying rental car drivers ('07 registered Fiestas and Espaces are the worst offenders here, according to the local police), psychotic white van drivers and the big stuff – coaches and trucks who have no wish to slow down for anything and which are actually too big to fit entirely within their own side of the road in the tighter stuff. The result is a lethal cocktail of road and traffic conditions, a single sip of which can be fatal to the unwary or actively participating motorcyclist.

So the A84 has a track record of both collisions between bikes and other vehicles and bike accidents that are entirely unassisted by other road users. In the first scenario either the other vehicle is the prime cause or they are merely minding their own business and suddenly find themselves in what is all too often a head-on collision with a misplaced motorcycle.

The prime cause version can only be dealt with by increased awareness by motorcyclists and a healthy dose of assumptive paranoia about what may be around the next bend – in effect, you need to give yourself more time to react, by planning further ahead where there is a visible ahead to plan for and by travelling just a tad slower on the many blind sections of road or by taking just a little longer to assess the potential behaviour of the vehicle you're about to overtake.

The "misplaced bike" scenario itself breaks two ways: bikes who aren't paying enough attention to the anticipation of hazards whilst technically on their part of the road and those who've failed to react in time to the sudden changes in the nature of the road and who end up departing at a tangent into another vehicle or the scenery. Both of which are decidedly hard and lumpy.

The first of those has played itself out more than once on this section of road in a particularly grisly form: decapitation. Too high a corner entry speed on right-handers, with a poor entry line, means a high lean angle where the rider's helmet is on or actually over the centreline of the road. When that's on a blind right-hander where a vehicle of any size is coming the other way, the result is as inevitable and instantaneous as it is terminal.

The second – the tangential departure from track – is almost invariably rider error, the rider 'freezing' when confronted with an unexpected change in the road or traffic, and thereby failing to negotiate a bend or avoid a hazard, be it vehicle, deer or toast in the road (real example). A couple of years ago I was on a course run by Gary Baldwin of Rapid Training - amongst other things, he's an accident investigator, and I remember him saying that, in about 2/3 of single vehicle accidents involving bikes, at the speed the bike had been travelling, it was perfectly capable of negotiating the bend – it's the rider that wasn't. In these cases, it's the combination of failure to anticipate, target fixation and the operation of what Keith Code calls "Survival Reactions" – instinctive reactions that are actually counterproductive on a bike – that lead to these sort of accidents.

So, as ever:

• If in doubt, back off!
• Remember Jackie Stewart's maxim of "slow in, fast out" - it's as true for bikes as cars.
• On a right-hander, take the furthest left line that's safe into the bend. And hold it - road riding isn't about treating the centreline apex as a target but about maximising your visibility at all times.
• Look where you're going, not where you're trying to avoid: if you stare like a frightened rabbit at an errant car, lump of rock or approaching armco, that's exactly what you'll end up hitting.
• (and this is one of the best bits of advice I was ever given) If all else fails, stick it on its ear – modern motorcycles are almost invariably far more competent than their riders and, even if it does all go pear-shaped, you'll most likely end up low-siding on your side of the road rather than firing straight on into the other lane. Of course, if you end up having to do that, you've failed to anticipate the hazard and are already going too damned fast. Which takes us right back to the first point.

Not all of these are easy to get your head around, and that's where taking advanced training really, really does help you to have more fun and more fun more safely - check out your local IAM or RoSPA group, find out if the local plod run a Bikesafe scheme or book a course with an outfit like Rapid Training. And track-based training (California Superbike School, Ron Haslam, HRT and their ilk) will makes a big difference to your machine handling skills and knowledge of just what you and your machine can do when all else fails.

Knowing the A84

Now for some specifics about the A84. And this is NOT meant as a comprehensive riding guide, simply a note of a few particular problem areas – what you do with the information is up to you. I'm describing the road heading North - that seems to be when most accidents happen, as people head up from the cities of the South.

The A84 starts at Stirling and runs fairly wide and open up to Callander, with a few deceptive bends through the woods after Buchany – the main problems along this stretch are a few blind crests, junctions, particularly those for the Ochtertye Road, at Blair Drummond Safari Park and, paradoxically, the long, straight sections that encourage some seriously dodgy overtaking by improbably ill-equipped vehicles and drivers. Watch out for farm vehicle mud on the road as you approach Doune.

Once past Callander, you're into more three-dimensional territory, as the road twists and turns through the Falls of Leny and then heads along the side of Loch Lubnaig, interspersing long, broad, sweeping sections of road with narrow blind bends and crests around the rocky outcrops along the lochside.

There's a particular Northbound bend at the Northern end of the Falls of Leny (just after you pass the car park entrance on the right) which rises steeply to the left, then crests and drops away very steeply, turning sharp right as it does so. Anyone piling over this crest at high speed and cranked over will simply find that their suspension comprehensively unloads, losing traction and throwing them down the road. Taking the same on a sloppy line and then suddenly finding that you have to turn in hard right puts you right into the head-over-centreline scenario I've described above. And keeping it hard left simply puts you at risk of tail-ending an innocent cyclist who's recently crested the same brow. And, even when you're on line and on speed, the sight of an oncoming enormous coach or artic suddenly appearing to rise out of the earth like a mobile block of flats is disconcerting, to say the least. Go slower than you can possibly think is necessary here.

This particular section has also recently been resurfaced (good) but hasn't had any new white lines painted on it (very bad) - it's now near impossible to pick out the crest and line at night or in heavy rain.

There's a lot of Shellgrip (pale-coloured and grippy stuff) at many (but not all) of the tightest bends. It's a mixed blessing from a bike's point of view, where I'd suggest that predictable consistency of grip is more important than absolute grip at any point, and it is laid with cars in mind, so that it has a nasty habit of running out just at the point where a bike is still leant over but is hard on the gas. Best therefore to use the Shellgrip as a warning of tight bends rather than to rely on it for any reason at all.

Watch out for the well-hidden turnings on the left into the car parks along Loch Lubnaig and for caravans and camper vans lurching into and out of these and various laybays with neither reason nor warning.

Running along the contour of a lochside, you are of course following a spring line so, even on the sunniest days, there are damp patches on the road, invariably (of course) on the exit from tight bends - being hard on it when you hit one of these can make life interesting.

Once North of Strathyre (and you were sticking to the 30mph limit there, weren't you?), there's a complex of deceptive and bumpy bends past a couple of cottages at Beananach (not signed), then a long sweeping section up towards Lochearnhead. Watch out here for the short-notice left turn into the Golden Larches restaurant at Balquhidder Station. Past Lochearnhead and you're into Glen Ogle and rising rapidly to the head of the road – once you're away from the glen floor, there are some well (and a few not-so-well) sighted curves up the mountainside before you crest the summit and immediately run into another series of off-camber bends and sweeps, with turnings into tourist lay-bys (and a snack van). Thereafter, it's downhill towards Lix Toll and the turning to Killin, which marks the end of the A84. There's a final sting in the tail – as you drop into the forested section of the road, there are a couple of near 90-degree bends, left and then right, followed by a sharp curve down towards the petrol station, which partially conceals the turn to Killin and the traffic slowing down to turn right there.

And that's the A84, not a long road, but one that, with common sense and a helping of awareness, makes for a superb ride, and one that I and everyone else around here would much rather you were around to do many times. If you find this remotely useful and you spot a slightly grubby grey Ducati parked up outside the Munro Inn in Strathyre, drop in and buy me a second coffee!

What my sightline does now include is a small cluster of other bikes, working their way past the inevitable camper vans and second-gear tourist Hyundais. First up is a GSX1400 with a very tense-looking rider – several tens of kilos too much bike for the road. A R1200GS pilot is cruising along in his shirt sleeves and, as we're both running with panniers, I have to wait several bends before there's sufficient clearance to bop past without pinging his Touratechs into the scenery. Now it gets interesting: the rider of the bright green thing I can see on the horizon is actually putting some effort into his riding and it's some time before I realise that the gap is closing. He's riding track lines on the road therefore can't actually see where he's going so I do manage to disprove the rumour that Kawasaki sports bikes self-destruct if overtaken by a tourer. By now we're over the pass itself and dropping towards Aberfoyle – the last few hairpins are of Alpine grade as they drop into the village and their new surface lends confidence and a little cautious exuberance. The Wee But'n'Ben Bistro offers a mean baked spud and welcome caffeine shot, fuelling me up nicely for the return journey. In the process, there's a slightly surreal conversation with a couple who've waddled in on a Harley and a much more resonant one with the local postmaster, who rides an SV and aspires Ducatiwards. Before turning the dial back up for the return trip, I detour briefly to Dounan's, the school camp on the edge of town where I spent a happy month at the tender age of ten. It's still much as I remember it but, in the sad absence of nubile and impressionable sixth-former girls, I pause only briefly before turning around. There's another detour – a smallish B road that leads from Aberfoyle over the hills by Loch Ard to the hidden Eastern shore of Loch Lomond at Inversnaid, another of the homes of Rob Roy – his first being two houses up the glen from our place. The road surface is however so bad that I call a halt after a few miles – a full motocrosser would be a better bet along here. In fact, most of today's run would have been perfect for a full-on Supermoto rather than anything over-large and over-powered for the road, which is pretty much anything else. There's one other problem with this road: trying to stop hooting with laughter long enough to concentrate on where I'm vaguely supposed to be going.

"For those many non-horsey people, that "Please Pass Wide and Slow" fluorescent tabard (or similar) you may well have seen moving along a country lane, is not meant to describe the obstacle in front of you – the rider is actually asking for your consideration in safely passing the horse, for both your safety and theirs.

Horses are ‘flight’ animals, meaning they would rather run than stand and fight, and, as with any domesticated animal, are slightly unpredictable. High speeds of approach, revving engines, honking and not allowing much space when passing could well spook a horse – and then you or another road user could well be faced with a half-ton panicked animal looking for an easy escape route, and not all horses are natural jumpers!!

Country lanes are in use by us all; on foot, with children, dogs, on bikes or horseback and in vehicles of all sizes – and we DO need to respect each road user. If you find horses in your path, two-a-breast, we are not catching up on local gossip (only!) but we are trying to make ourselves as visible as possible and attempting to slow vehicles approaching our animals, before passing.

Bemused cyclists who have come up behind a horse and rider may well wonder why we ask that they “say something” whilst approaching. Again, this is purely for safety, as horses generally cannot hear bikes. The sudden appearance of something moving up behind them, without warning, is as frightening to them as a preying animal (natural instincts are in us all!) – however, horses are bright enough to acknowledge that it probably isn’t dangerous if it sounds ‘human’.

The Lothian & Borders Police Road Safety Unit held a meeting with the British Horse Society at the end of last year, and a staggering statistic came to light - “64% of all road deaths happen on roads regarded as rural and therefore quiet”.

PLEASE don’t add to that statistic – give considerations to horses and all other road users in our beautiful glens and don’t ruin your day or anyone else’s because you couldn’t be bothered to briefly slow down for that ‘obstacle’ in front of you.

Thought for the day: When sitting on a ‘FLIGHT’ animal, believe us – we want you to pass us and not crawl along behind us… …but SAFELY, for all our sakes.

With thanks for reading this,
from B.R.A.- the Balquhidder Riding Association." – Thanks there to Tanya and Karen for words and picture.

Can't say fairer than that, to which I'll add my own observations that motorcyclists are probably a horse's worst nightmare: fast, loud and sudden (and the bikes themselves aren't much better…). If coming up on a horse or group of horses, do slow down a long way in advance, giving yourself time to check them out and ask yourself: have they obviously heard you coming? do any of the animals (and/or riders) look nervous? are they changing formation in anticipation of your passing? If in any doubt whatsoever, wait until you're sure that they're aware of you and that the party is composed and ready for you, then pass as above – wide and slow. If you're approaching them from the front and on a narrow road, you might even be advised to pull over, shut the engine off and wait until they're well past before lighting up again – I tend to do this as I've noticed that twins such as Ducatis and BMWs seem, at low revs, to cause more equine consternation than fours.

…To Sublime

Then I jumped back on the ST to head home. Now hang on a minute: discounting its current pogo-stick behaviour from the service-overdue rear shock, this was the revelation of the day – I've spent four years and 40,000 miles setting this machine up to suit exactly how I ride and in understanding its preferences and propensities – the end result is a machine that fits me like a favourite running shoe and which always works with me, whatever I do and wherever I go. So here's a first step: I'm taking the ST in next week for a suspension rebuild and upgrade: a full service for the rear Ohlins plus a slightly stiffer spring and K-Tech internals for the forks to bring them up from merely good to something approaching the quality of the rear Ohlins. Then I'll decide where to go with the toy fund. Now there the 1098S is currently on a shortlist of two, the other being that Aga.