Ducati Diary

Plus Ça Change (Tweaking Part II)

Tue, 15 Jun 2010 14:37:35 +0000

I've had my Multistrada for just over a month now – time enough to find out the good, the bad and the incomprehensible about it. And yes, it IS as good as the reviews say it is (my own full review has been much-delayed by the simple fact that I've been out riding it!) but it ain't entirely perfect, so here's my thoughts to date on what can be improved in future and what needs to be fixed by Ducati right now. It's a very short list, considering that this is a brand new bike designed to appeal to a much wider market than Ducatis of yore – and, by definition, a market less accommodating of Italian, ah, idiosyncrasies. But here they are, in all their ignominy – let's see what Ducati come back with:

Tweaking (Part I)

Tue, 15 Jun 2010 13:23:40 +0000

Whilst my natural inclination with a new bike is to start fiddling with its setup pretty much on the way out of the dealers, with The Raven I've been giving myself time to slowly get used to it, to play with the various suspension modes and generally suss it out until I understand it enough to start prodding at it. That does however assume that Ducati have pretty much got everything right to the point where, whilst I might want to tweak to taste, there's nothing I can't live with. So time to look at the figures.

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...

Gravity 1: Multistrada 0.

Wed, 12 May 2010 13:34:45 +0000

In my unending quest to bring enlightenment and knowledge to the world of the Ducatisti, I have taken one more tiny step towards Zen mastery (which must now put me on about the level of the average grasshopper) - this time to answer the speculation on various online fora about the potential cost of an off-road drop of the Multistrada 1200. Here's the answer: zip. nada. nowt. bugger all. OK, that's on a sample size of one: your mileage may vary. Turning around on a local fire road, I ran out of steering lock and decided to hop off to back 'er up, only to discover that the ground was further away than I thought. A lot further away - I'm 6', with 34" inside leg, but it still 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. Now off to put an ice pack on my knee...

Dude, Where's My Ducati?

Mon, 03 May 2010 13:02:16 +0000

For the last three weeks, I've been revisiting my childhood as the kid who can't wait to get downstairs and open his Christmas presents, only to be frustrated by an entirely unreasonable (in my self-obsessed juvenile view) parental moratorium on leapings around before 5:30am. This time however the problem is not adult whim but the non-appearance of Santa's sleigh – the one carrying my new Ducati. I'm fed up, the dealer is fed up and the ever-helpful Ducati UK are no doubt fed up with my plaintive – and no doubt still self-obsessed – phone calls. My bike was the second UK order and, apparently, was built as such, in the first batch of black 1200S Touring spec bikes. It was then loaded onto the trailers that were to go to the UK. No problem so far. What has apparently happened is that the shipping company have picked up the trailers in the wrong order. And, to judge by the 14-day lead time from Bologna to the UK, they bring them here via Central Africa. Guys, I could CYCLE from Bologna to the UK in less than 14 days…

Humberbug

Mon, 29 Mar 2010 21:48:26 +0000

Firstly, a disclaimer: I don't live in Humberside. Now that's neither for nor against the place, simply a statement of elsewhereness. But hold that thought while I digress. I'm also a considerable fan of road safety, having desire to neither kill nor be killed on the public roads. But - and this is a big one - I'm like most of us, in that the more threatening and authoritarian the message, the more likely I am to start taking the piss. That's not big and not clever, but is pretty basic psychology – engage with me and I'll listen, behave like a fascist and I'll start fomenting revolution.

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.

Nothing for Years…

Mon, 01 Feb 2010 22:16:31 +0000

Seven years. Seven years? That's 45,000 miles and but a single breakdown on my ST4s – my matt grey STealth machine – and it's not even clear whether that breakdown was component failure or dealer-induced (another story too long in the telling). And once again going strong, even after three years of enduro use on our so-called drive – a kilometre of potholed track, with bombholes and mudbaths enough to please the most discerning hippo. Fully serviced suspension has brought the dear old thing back into an extended prime, but the world moves on and its time to see where to go next. Or rather, "as well", as I've no intention of getting rid of the ST4s. But what to get?

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.

Lots More on the A84…

Sat, 18 Aug 2007 20:42:02 +0000

I've mentioned before that I live next to one of THE great biking roads, the A84 from Callander to Killin. That's all of 20 miles of fast, wide sweeping bends that every so often turn into narrow, bumpy, twisty complexes that test machine set-up and rider anticipation, skill and basic sense. And far too bloody many people are failing that test: we've just had what (I think) is the third biking fatality of the year – and all of these on the mere eight miles between Callander and Strathyre, particularly through the twisties of the Falls of Leny, just North of Kilmahog and at the notorious "Doctor's Bend" a couple of miles further North.

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.

A821 Dukes Pass

Thu, 03 May 2007 17:57:50 +0000

Today I should most definitely have been working – too much to do, too little time, yada yada... But by 11 o'clock the temperature was about 23° and not a cloud in the sky. I also tripped over my Arai on the way to make a coffee, which was an omen not to be ignored, so the concept of 'early lunch break' had its definition rather stretched. Besides, I wanted to test out a new toy – a little Sony GPS that records everywhere you've been – the downloaded results then being used to tag the photos you've taken along the way, before mapping them in Google Maps or Google Earth. And where should I go to test this but a second (and third) pass at a road I discovered last weekend – the A821 from Kilmahog (I kid you not) to Aberfoyle, via the Duke's pass. That's the Duke of Montrose, not the Duke of Bologna, which would have been so much more appropriate. This road is something else – it starts with a couple of fast sweepers that throw in a decreasing radius 120° corner at the last moment, then into a switchback straight which has self and machine airborne at anything over about 70mph – even with the new suspension. A large number of sump gouges and suspicious stains along this stretch tell their own tale. The road is a mixture of old and broken surface (with the occasional pothole and patch of loose gravel) and brand new shiny tarmac – overall, not too bad by Belgian standards, and less than brilliant by anyone else's.

Pass Wide and Slow – Bikes and Horses

Mon, 30 Apr 2007 19:06:06 +0000

Here in the National Park, we've got pretty much every category of road user – bikes, bicycles, cars, walkers, horses and the occasional tap-dancing Pine Marten, all trying to do their own thing at their own speed, and often at the same time. While there's a wider concern about how all of these can share the roads (in like peace, light and harmony, man…) the technique for passing large, hairy quadrupeds does seem to cause some stress amongst all parties. So here, reprinted with the author's permission from our local community rag is a small plea on behalf of horsey folk everywhere:

"Honey, I Spent The Aga Budget…"

Mon, 09 Apr 2007 18:16:47 +0000

Time for a new toy. My old faithful STealth – my ST4s – has served me well for four years and it's a keeper, as a supremely capable all-round machine, so I'm looking for something more specific and more focussed for play on the local roads. Which is where the first of many dilemmas kicks in – which toy for which roads? Around here there are ballistically-fast, sweeping A-roads with sudden sections of tight twisties: that'll be a Ducati 1098S then. Then there are the smaller glen roads - rising and falling, twisting and turning back on themselves as they follow the edges of the lochs: much more Monster or KTM SuperDuke territory. Finally, there are bikes that seek the best compromise for all of these, plus my kilometre of potholed Belgium-on-a-bad-day drive: possibly a Multistrada 1100S - in fact if the Multistrada had the Testastretta engine, it would have been a shoo-in - I've ridden the earlier incarnation enough to know just how good a chassis they've got. But hang on, we're not talking about looking for an all-rounder here: we're looking for the maximum of engagement, hoot-inducing fun and the ability to get from A to B, usually via C to Z, with as much flair as possible and a decent tank range, given the distance between filling stations hereabouts. So I'm off to Ducati Glasgow to sample a selection of their range.

When You've Had Your Kicks On Route 66…

Fri, 08 Dec 2006 18:41:06 +0000

…Then Get Some More On The A84

Been a bit quiet of late, haven't I? There's a reason for that and, I hope, a good one: self, partner, our businesses and the cats have all been busily uprooting ourselves from our past lives – in my case, twenty years in the hinterlands of Surrey and replanting ourselves in our new demesne, the Highlands of Scotland. We've been here for two weeks today, and I'm typing this whilst looking out over the local Loch as the low Winter sun glows off the hills opposite. Which isn't a bad way to start the day, and a distinct improvement on the absolutely solid rainfall of the last fortnight. And, if the viciously incompetent British Telecom ever starts keeping its broken promises to provide us with our landlines, things will be just perfect. The lack of photographs in current posting (since updated) are just a reflection of the very limited bandwidth I have here via my mobile.

Safety Last

Fri, 08 Dec 2006 12:08:26 +0000

My mother doesn't change her car very often: her last change was in 1991, from a thirteen-year-old Fiat 128 to her still-current, Zen-basic, 1-litre Peugeot 205. So basic in fact, that it doesn't even possess a clock, let alone advanced toys like a radio. The upside of this is that it represents motoring at its most focussed and basic, with nothing to distract you from the act of driving – and with such skinny tyres, you can have huge fun at very low and genuinely legal speeds. The late James Hunt used to drive an old Austin A30 van for exactly the same reasons. The Pug also possesses supremely good all-round visibility from narrow pillars and a low waistline. Its absolutely direct handling is a delight and the only downside is its criminally heavy steering, making three-point turns an exercise in forearm-pumping and giving my mother a seriously dangerous left hook. That little Peugeot is now fifteen years old and, despite its only having 25,000 miles on the clock, is starting to show signs of incipient decreptitude.

Scott of the West Midlands

Wed, 22 Nov 2006 04:10:01 +0000

Warning: Gratuitous and rambling nostalgia ahead: In 1981 I was living and working in Warwick, in my first 'proper' job after graduating – my prior history as a ski bum didn't really count. Now Warwick is a very beautiful olde towne in the English Midlands, but it is some 330 miles from my semi-ancestral home of Edinburgh, which is where I was intending to be for Christmas. Now I could have done the sensible thing and taken the train from Birmingham, sitting (or at least standing) in a semi-comfortable fug of other people's colds, second-hand cigarette smoke and generalised flatulence. But somehow that didn't sufficiently appeal to the masochist in me. My newly acquired pride and joy at this time was my Honda 400/4 – a finely crafted jewel of a motorcycle and an utter paragon of reliability after my upbringing on (and off) old British iron. I guess there was a mindset here that said, "I'm on a wonderful piece of to-the-minute japanese engineering. I am therefore invulnerable to the vicissitudes of the world". Which in turn led me to think, "So I'll just leap onto my machine and ride to Edinburgh for Christmas".

Boxer Rebellion

Mon, 31 Jul 2006 16:43:12 +0000

I like BMWs. Or rather, I've always tried to like BMWs – they plough their own furrow (sometimes literally) and are distinctive and different in appearance, ride and attitude, offering an intriguing alternative to the ubiquity of across-the-frame four-cylinder machines. My earliest vicarious experience with the marque was in the mid-seventies, with Bike magazine's breathless review of the rip-snorting R90S, which heavily implied that only those stout of both heart and sinew could be expected to master the mighty beast – quite a heady concept to an impressionable student who was just then coming to terms with the unbridled power of a newly-restored Royal Enfield 250. The fact that the R90S actually put out something like 60bhp on a good day was neither here nor there – it was the shock and awe that counted.

In the early eighties, I occasionally knocked around on an R90/6 and on one of the first K100s to hit these shores ("What shores?" – "Mine's a gin & tonic, thank you…") – compared to my Pantah, it was like riding a fast-spin washing machine that was attached to the world by rubber bands. Slack rubber bands. Thankfully chassis and suspension have improved over the years and BMW, after a short-lived attempt to abandon the Boxer twin layout, still offer a range composed predominantly of the twins plus four-cylinder heavyweights. I've ridden several of the current generation of both and am generally of the opinion that there are some truly excellent chassis here, all however desperately in search of decent engines.

I have seen the Future…

Thu, 15 Jun 2006 23:09:33 +0000

….and it goes "whirrrr".

I spent today at meetings in London: it was hot, dirty and noisy and I was contributing both considerable decibelage and a fug of semi-combusted hydrocarbons to the ambience by whomping around on a 1000cc Ducati. At regular intervals the phrase, "there has to be a better way to do this", kept springing to mind. Of course, my bicycle would have been perfect for the job. Had I been able to get it there: with a despairingly predictable lack of joined-up thinking on transport and the environment, the UK government has allowed the rail operators to ban bicycles from most services. Which has rather put a stop to that.

This evening however I've found that better way: I went somewhere else in space and time, to where the whole future arrives, not with a bang, but with a muted whirring - to my first close encounter with the ENV – the world's first dedicated fuel cell powered motorcycle.