NEW KING OF THE MOTORCYCLES,
MULTISTRADA AN ITALIAN BIKE WORTHY OF A PEDIGREE
There’s a new king of the mountain. For the first time since I have been visiting Italy’s famed — among motorcyclists, at least — Stelvio pass, the most popular bike on the mountain was not BMW’s R1200 GS. Instead Ducati’s Multistrada was this year’s mount of choice, the familiar bloodred V- twin — OK, for you purists, L- twin — easily outnumbering BMW’s boxer.
Now, you might be thinking to yourself, thanks Captain Obvious, for an alert noting an Italian bike being popular in Italy. Duh! Except that one of the anomalies of Italian motorcycling is that Ducati is not nearly as popular in its homeland as it is in North America.
Even an anecdotal market survey would reveal that BMWs, in general, are twice, if not thrice, as popular as Dukes in their homeland. R1200Rs are e xt r emely popular in the land of pasta and wine, as are virtually any vintage of RT. And, yes, GSs as well.
So it’s actually no mean feat, t hen, t hat Multistradas outnumbered GS bikes among the motorcycles cresting StilfserJoch’s 2,757-metre peak.
That’s not to say it doesn’t make sense. For one, the Duke — especially in the new, smaller 950 guise I was riding — is in the order of 20 kilograms lighter than the German behemoth, an important consideration when you’re navigating no fewer than 36 first- gear “tornatis” — that would be hairpins in Italian — and that’s just on the way up the south side of the mountain; there are 48 more on the north side.
On a Ducati — and here the 950 has a five- kg advantage over even the 1200 version of the Multistrada — you can attack the road in finest Italian fashion as opposed to just being along for the ride.
Even two- up — and with herself ’s full complement of shoes, facial creams and ablution products stuffed into the Duke’s three storage bins — one can still (sort of ) blitz this sinewy rope of a road. Suspension is firmish, the radially disposed four- pot Brembos powerful ( important when you’re attacking 20 downhill switchbacks in a row) and the 937-cc twin has enough power to scoot past trundling tourist buses with dispatch. Indeed, even twoup — and, again, luggage cases brimming — there was never a lack of power. Oh, you might have to rev the smaller engine harder than the 1200 — peak power is only 113 hp versus the bigger bike’s 160 — but it still feels like a good, old- fashioned big twin with lots of grunt down low. I never felt any paucity of power until I was above 2,000 metres and trying to pass an especially long bus uphill, again two-up and loaded to the gunwales.
But there’s more to the Stelvio than just scraped foot pegs, otherwise the most popular bike on the mountain would be a Yamaha R1 or Ducati’s own Panigale. But, in fact, true sport bikes are something of a rarity on Alpine passes, mainly because … you have to get there. And by “get there” I mean speed down some faceless German autobahn or trundle along some traffic-riven Italian secondary road for several hundred kilometres. In either case, it’s as tedious as our own extraurban commutes, meaning that suddenly the emphasis isn’t so much on corner carving, but creature comfort.
And here again, the Multistrada passes muster. Oh, it’s not quite as comfy as the BMW — the seat, as per Ducati tradition, is a little too firm — but the adventure touring seating position is ergonomically relaxing and the wind protection, especially with the “touring” wind- screen, is not half bad. In other words, the Multistrada — either 950 or 1200 — is no Gold Wing but it is more than comfortable enough to get you to the next twisty road.
There’s plenty of seating room and the passenger seat is significantly elevated compared with the rider’s, allowing an unobstructed view of the Stelvio’s other highlight: breathtaking scenery. The saddlebags are sufficiently spacious — the right side, because of the underslung exhaust pipe, a little smaller ( I’ ll give you one guess who got the smaller one) — than some of the panniers loaded onto the side of BMWs. That said, the rear top case, complete with rear back pad for passenger comfort, is positively cavernous, easily swallowing two full-face helmets with ease.
Ducati even makes a passable effort at convenience and touring equipment. Unlike the finicky Dukes of yore, the 950 Multistrada only requires an oil change every 15,000 km and its efficient but complicated desmodromic valves gear checked every 30,000 km. Factor in a convenient USB power jack — I was using my iPhone’s Waze app for route guidance — as well as two DIN jacks and safety features that include ABS ( three separate settings) and traction control (eight) and you have a pretty fair sport tourer.
Another reason for the Multistrada’s popularity is the recently arrived 950’s relatively cost- effective MSRP. Where the 1200 starts at $21,395, the 950 is a more attainable $15,295. Yes, you get less power ( seldom needed) and do without the electronically adjustable suspension (the KYB front fork and rear Sachs shock are, however, manually adjustable) and something called an Inertia Measurement Unit which is the stuff that MotoGP bikes use to fine tune their traction control systems at maximum lean angle (I’ll leave it to you to judge whether your riding styles needs such finely tuned trickery).
Not all is perfect, of course. For instance, to give the 950 version of the Multistrada some off- road bona fides, Ducati installed a 19- inch front tire instead of the 1200’s sportier 17-inch item. Considering that the 950 otherwise makes no pretensions to offroading, I think it’s a waste, especially since Ducati didn’t alter the 950’s frame, so its rake is kicked out about 1.2 degrees compared with the 1200, slowing down steering some. I like my bikes pointy, especially on roads as sinewy as Italy’s, so I’d prefer a 17-inch front hoop, thank you very much.
As well, although t he suspension rates — both springing and damping — are pretty much spot on, I would have appreciated a little more rear spring preload to keep the Duke on an even keel. That said, I didn’t miss the 1200’s electronically adjustable suspension at all.
And, last ly, like all Ducatis, the 950’ s clutch was a little grabby in the morning. Had I been riding by myself, I might not have minded. But my passenger found the morning’s herky-jerkiness a little jolting.
Otherwise, the new smaller Multistrada is a welcome steed, part touring workhorse, part canyon carver, all brought together in one relatively inexpensive ( at least for a Duke) package. Indeed, perhaps one should not think of the 950 Multistrada as adventure tourer so much as a 600- cc supersport rendered comfortable enough for the superslab. Or a BMW GS light enough to clip an apex. Perhaps, even as a more user friendly — you really don’t notice the loss of power — version of the 1200. Whichever direction you approach it from, there’s a good reason for its new-found popularity on the Stelvio.
Even if Italians prefer BMWs.