DUCATI PANIGALE 4S UK FIRST RIDE
back track,, but what about have astounded on Ducati’s new V4 amy have astounded on track, but what about back here in the UK? Time to get busy with one, and find out...
Ever since Gigi Dall’Igna subtly mentioned that Ducati were working on a V4 production bike during an unrelated press junket, it’s been the most anticipated sportsbike for years. Then, a year later, Bruce attended the launch at Valencia and, on track at least, was blown away.
Now, I’ve been a proper fan-boy of the big L-twin Ducati line since they introduced the first Panigale. When it comes to testing in a professional capacity though, their foibles held them back, and I often conceded the fact that when compared to the competition, just being bat-shit crazy wasn’t even nearly good enough for a winner’s gong.
Yet, it was those exact foibles and unabashed F-you attitude that made me fall in love with them on a personal level. When using the word ‘character’ to describe a motorcycle, usually that’s the way of putting a positive spin on inherent flaws. However with the 11 and then 1299 Panigales, said flaws were indeed part and parcel of the entire experience. You either got it, or you didn’t, and likely chose something a little easier to live with instead.
So it was with some amount of trepidation that I approached my first ever ride on the new V4 S here in the UK – with literally no clue what it was going to be like. In matter of fact, the first hour on the bike during a quick getting to know each other session was rather telling, with realisations, disappointments and revelations coming thick and fast.
Within the first few hundred yards it was obvious this was something very new. It may sound much like a twin at idle, and there’s a brief moment where it mimics the L-twin as you release the clutch, but once fully out it’s a brave new world. The riding position surprised immediately, as you now sit more ‘in’ than ‘on top’ of it, and is reminiscent of Aprilia’s RSV4 in terms of foot and hand positioning (only), albeit with far more room for bodily manoeuvre. Wrist weight is pushed more through the horizontal plane of the bars, rather than angled down It is, in fact, immediately comfortable and welcoming.
A mile in, riding slowly thro ough built up areas, I just cannot believe thi s is a large capacity bike with ‘Panigale’ stamped on it because it’s so smooth at the droll stuff. I honestly likened it to whatev ver Honda you’d care to think of. Where was the drama? How come we’d been riding for more than five minutes and not had a single argument? What’s going on?!
A very smart approach, that t’s what, because while many loved the recalcitrant behaviou ur of the L-twin, it probably put as many (or more) off during a test ride, especially those with history of uber-usable Japanes se litre efforts. Now though, all is well in that regard, without rolling another mile I know I could happily commute through anywhere ono the V4. Yes, I may be moan the loss of presence and outright belligerence, but the changeg in slow speed attitude is genuinely remarkable, and it’s just a tiny bit of occasional chugging that breaks the pristine spell.
Only deep thumps from the airbox beneath the fake fuel tank give the bike any sense of menace in town, hinting that should you twist the throttle harder, the (to this point) superbike scooter you’re riding has a real dark side. I’ve little doubt that an aftermarket exhaust will return a lot of the L-twin’s bullishness, but right at this moment, I’m as disappointed as I am impressed with this newly found usability. Yet, this was all about to be lost in a delicious cacophony of revs and utterly outrageous speed.
It began inconspicuously, as heading out in the green I began to add more gas, not in
an excitable manner, but briskly. The V4 may not have the L-twin’s torque curve, but it spins really fast and smoothly, as I ‘pap’ up the g’box via the decent quick-shifter. Then I look at the speedo, and can’t believe the licence shredding speed I’m travelling at. It’s a real heart-stopping moment, because I’d have sworn I was doing at least 40mph less. Without even trying, the Panigale still being smooth as silk, its pace astonished me. Given it hit 190mph on the dyno, it’s not like it’s super-short geared either.
Now, the roads down near our southern branch are often fast, but usually bumpy, and one such stretch is where I first throttle-stopped it. When I finally relent and slow down, my brain struggles to comprehend what I’ve just experienced. This thing is so, so, so very fast on full-gas while traversing public roads, with walls and hedges flashing by and the front hopping and skipping off the tarmac, it’s almost surreal. I’m sure a wide race track mutes this somewhat, but on the highways it really is genuinely mind-bending.
Up until now, stupid speed was generated silkily, but when pinned all of that aggression and pent up fury it had been hiding comes roaring out. Everything is under control, though, it just gives a good impression of not being via the ludicrous thrust it’s capable of, with the sound of the GP-derived V4 finally de-gagged. It’s also addictive, use whatever type of ‘needs a warning label’ metaphor you like, but that won’t stop anyone from wanting more of this epic biking bliss.
Somewhat frazzled I head back, and am then stumped trying to get the side-stand down – where is the bloody thing? They’ve added a small nodule to it so you can reach your heel to it in front of the pegs, and while it’s mostly a muscle memory thing, I actually find it easier to use my hand! But still, what a debut from the V4, showcasing a new approach in friendliness but with an engine that blows your back doors off.
Still, first rides can be deceiving, so we began thorough testing of the bike, rolling on all sorts of roads, from mossy back lanes to motorway fare, commutes and a couple of days when the world turned white, and everyone went panic shopping.
This also included my favourite day on her, which took in a long jaunt down the M4 into Wales to the farthest reaches of the Black Mountains, traversing all those mountain roads and returning back through the Brecon Beacons and some seriously quick A-road stretches. All in all, it revealed much about the V4 S.
The riding position for example, which at first I loved, quite soon became something I’d like to change just a touch. More rear ride height, specifically, to put just a little more weight on the front. Not a lot, just a sliver, because while the new riding position suits more people I’m sure, at slow speeds it sometimes feels a tiny bit awkward to initiate steering. It’s only slight, though I was still getting used to it even a couple of weeks in. Otherwise the steering action is beautifully neutral, not too fast or slow, yet like me some may miss the eager directness of the previous L-twin.
It’s fine on the motorway, easily as comfortable as my long-term Suzuki GSX-R, though the return to the flatter 1198 stance and a skinny tank means under heavy braking I can struggle to find sufficient
IT’S SO FAST, MY BRAIN STRUGGLED TO COMPREHEND WHAT I HAD JUST EXPERIENCED...
bracing purchase other than through the bars. This could be partly due to my build and 6ft-plus height, but it did remind me of a phrase we used to use regarding the 1198 range – like trying to ride a dolphin covered in diesel! Shorter pilots may not have the same issues though, granted.
Meanwhile, the lecky Öhlins are next level fare. Even in ‘Race’ mode the damping action cosseted well enough to impress on bumpy stretches, only the harshest of which would give it a bit of a workout. In ‘Sport’, it’s as forgiving as you’d ever want it to be, but still sharp enough for spirited road hacking. Yet this is just part of what it’s ultimately capable of, given all the extra aids you can adjust like braking support and so on, it’s nuts!
The electronics are also different in every mode in regard to traction-control (TC) and anti-wheelie (AW). If you set the AW to its lowest setting in ‘Sport’, it is more intrusive than the same setting in ‘Race’. I found even in the latter though, if the roads weren’t smooth it was too intrusive for me, bumps seemed to set it off (sore plums alert!), whereas on smoother fare it’d recognise that I was trying to be a prat and let me get away with it. It’s really good on those smooth roads, but annoying otherwise, and you can’t turn it off completely on the fly. The traction-control, meanwhile, impressed (if also set low), and did save my arse twice after getting a little too giddy when we did the photoshoot. I had a proper full-lock, potentially pant filling snap. But only for the briefest of moments – TC came to the rescue and everything came back in line, our snapper Jonny was actually more shocked than I was! Power is likewise meted out differently in every mode and in each gear, too. Some testing on the JHS dyno revealed different outputs in each gear on the way to an 187bhp peak. So a fifth-gear ‘Sport’ run makes less than sixth-gear, but both also make less than in ‘Race’, and the directness of the throttle in the latter is a marked change over the far more forgiving ‘Sport’ delivery.
Now, fuel-wise, I was surprised when the light first popped on at 73 miles. Another two miles later at a fuel station, it took just over 12 litres (in its 16 litre tank). This became a theme, and only on a long motorway jaunt did it come on at over 90 miles while reading a 56mpg average. When thrashed it’d hover around 30mpg, and general riding saw an average of 42mpg, which isn’t too bad at all.
The bike continued to impress over every mile though. I was starting to think that it’s close to being one of the greatest road bikes I’d ever ridden, and that it would likely rule at this year’s SBOTY test, too. So, I needed to calm down and get some perspective, which a quick call to mag-friend Dan provided.
He brought his Aprilia RSV4 RF, and just a few miles in I know which bike’s chassis I personally prefer – the RSV’s as it turns on a dime with a mere thought, even if it doesn’t have that incredible witchcraft level of electronic damping. The Ducati is far comfier though, and a little easier to go fast on, plus the V4’s new Stylema brake calipers provide more feel and superior power progression. We even did some speed comparisons, with (heavier) Dan aboard the Ducati – hold sixth gear at 50mph then full throttle, the same with fifth gear, at different speeds, etc. Each and every time the Ducati just streaked away leaving the RSV for dead, it was almost humbling. Yes it’s got 100cc more, but who says a road bike has to conform to race-regs capacity limits? It doesn’t; nobody moaned when Honda brought out the 900cc Fireblade, did they? Plus it means the V4 can make huge power but at less revs, therefore being more reliable: a win-win scenario.
Time on the Aprilia proved it’s easy to get carried away, and I’m now convinced SBOTY isn’t an open and shut case. But it doesn’t stop it from being a genuine revelation; this is a ‘next level’ machine here. It’s as usable as anything else, has more toys than anything else and it appears to be significantly quicker than any other production superbike, too. At the thick end of £24,000, it’d be fair to say it should be all of these things and more, but that’s okay, because it really is...