Ducati Scrambler 1100
Ducati wheel out a seven-year-old engine, but nobody seems to be complaining…
THIS BIG, NEW Scrambler is easy to ride. Fling a leg over the ribbed saddle, clank into gear and push off on a diesel freighter-load of thrust. Everything feels easy. The clutch is light, the engine response is polished, the dual Brembo four-pots firm under pressure. It’s the most flattering bike here, almost as easy to ride as its smaller brother… … which is handy, because that’s what Ducati had in mind. Back on the Scrambler’s launch, Ducati bods admitted the 1100 is gunning for current Scrambler owners looking for their next bike. In the past these owners were going elsewhere – BMW’S R ninet or Yamaha’s XSR900 for example. They’re bigger bikes with more street presence than the small Ducati. So Bologna spied an opportunity. With its unhurried 83bhp, big noise and reassuring heft, the Scrambler 1100 is designed to keep Scrambler devotees in-house. And there are three options to choose from. This is the standard £10,835 Scrambler 1100. Pay £800 extra for the Special – spoked wheels, chrome exhaust, ally mudguards. Chuck in £800 more for the Sport model’s Öhlins suspension. Of all three the standard takes the value-for-money biscuit. You still get multiple riding modes, traction control and cornering ABS. But best of all is the upright handlebar – swapped out for a lower affair on Special and Sport models. Instead of forcing you to reach for the controls it sweeps up towards you. Wiggling through small-town traffic is a breeze. Imagine piloting a kayak with a double-bladed paddle, then remove the paddle. That’s the action. Nose into pole position at a junction and V-twin bass batters your ears. Green light, pull away and everything suddenly becomes quieter. Quieter than even Yamaha’s prim exhaust note. Weird: low speed is loud, motorway is quiet. Stop, get off, rev the engine and you can actually see an exhaust valve in the link pipe shut at 2000rpm. It gives you old-school loudness while letting the 1100 pass Euro4. Those clever Italians – just don’t tell Brussels. But sound isn’t the only old-school part of the bike. Remove the brushed ally radiator shrouds, unscrew the 15-litre fuel tank with replaceable side covers, and unearth the Scrambler’s core. The engine: a detuned, air-cooled, 1079cc V-twin last seen in the 2011 Monster 1100 Evo. Note identical exhaust routing and engine casing position. Inside, reduced valve overlap and twin-spark heads soften peaks in the torque curve, tone down throttle response and squeeze it through Euro4. But that doesn’t mean editor Wilson can’t trace the Monster lineage. ‘That engine is fantastic,’ he declares after a B-road thrash. ‘Those two-valve Ducati engines are lovely. And this one’s got manners to boot.’ It’s stable, too, like the BMW R ninet. With respectably secure steering both bikes are a mile away from Yamaha’s XSR900 twitchfest. A long swingarm stretches the Scrambler’s wheelbase to 1514mm – 19mm longer than a Harley-davidson Forty-eight. Throw in a conservative 111mm trail (the 1100 Evo had just 86mm) and turning feels as you would expect: steady away. Still fun to ride fast, though. Wrestle the Ducati and BMW through the same set of corners and you’ll let out identical sniggers. Easy engine, a dollop of chuckability, loud banging noises. The combination works for Ducati aficionado and M900-owner Paul Lang. ‘Look at that finish. They’ve stitched the Ducati logo into the seat instead of printing it, and the mirrors are shaped like the Scrambler wing logo. Even those pipes look clean. Where are the catalytic converters?’ There’s no under-engine collector box like on Kawasaki’s Z900RS or the Yamaha. Instead the Euro-regulation gumpf is shunted rearward into a space under the swingarm. It’s a tidy job, almost as good as the packaging on BMW’S boxer. It can’t match the well-finished Beemer in other areas, though. Cables are routed in great arcs over the new dash and the adjustable levers can be wobbled around. Hard-to-please digital editor Steve Herbert is unimpressed. ‘Great engine, but the bike’s just a leggy Monster. I’d rather have the BMW’S sticky-out cylinders, slick gearbox and characterful torque reaction any day.’ He’d pay the extra £1500 a stock R ninet demands over the Scrambler. Choose the ninet Pure instead and he’d actually save £735. The more you ride the Scrambler, the more its unflappable, easygoing nature gets under your skin. It’s the comfiest bike of this bunch, and sounds best before that valve turns off the fun. Looking for an easy ride? It’s got to be the Scrambler.
‘The more you ride the Scrambler, the more it gets under your skin’