1997 DUCATI 748 SP

CMM new boy Al Fagan on the mini 916.

piece, almost. Ducati’s Massimo Tamburini-designed 748 was launched in 1994 and is almost identical to the iconic 916 in every way, except the fact that they are becoming even rarer than a nice 916. It’s true, the likes of a nice 748 can be hard to find. Now, it’s amazing to think that a beautiful machine such as this could be yours for around three grand. Yes, £3000. This one will not be yours for three big ones as it’s the SP version and (apart from some trivialities) it’s 100% original or near as dammit. For a good SP we’ve seen prices of around £5000, with some people wanting more for replicas of various race machines. All is often not what it seems, so buyer-beware. So what really ‘is’ a 748? Well, much of the 916’s lump remains, and the 748cc capacity was born from a bore and stroke reduction that gave an 11,500rpm redline. A lighter flywheel was also added to the SP along with a close-ratio gearbox, and the Weber-marelli injection system was tweaked to suit the smaller size. It used a wet sump lubrication system and a dry clutch. The 748SP only made 9bhp less than the 916, and you could get 150mph before hitting the redline. The crux of the chassis is also identical to the 916’s, including that tubular steel trellis frame with adjustable steering head angle and the fabled single-sided swingarm and three-spoke wheels. Standard models wore Showa suspension, although this SP was treated to an Öhlins shock. The SP also used cast iron Brembo discs rather than steel. Also differing from the 916 was the 748’s 180-section rear tyre. So you’re getting the looks and the handling of the 916 for much less money. Get in!

However ‘cheap’ a 748 is, I didn’t want to crash this piece of history. Ducati’s 916 changed the world of sportsbikes, while the 748 less so, and as such it certainly isn’t as desirable as the bigger-capacity machine, with lower market values reflecting this sad fact. But it is still a classic and – as mentioned – the 748 is almost identical to its attentiongrabbing bigger brother; other than digits on the fairing. This means owning the entire smorgasbord of Ducati Corse-based fundamentals – as well as Bologna’s finest idiosyncrasies – like a hidden choke tab lurking behind the throttle and the Ducati ‘death stand’ which flicks up automatically when you lift the bike upright. Rumour has it that insurance companies ceased to insure 748s/916s owing to the bloody things, but many now have been replaced. If you’re accustomed to more modern machinery, when you’re astride the 748 you could close your eyes, hush your gum and put money on the fact that you’re straddling a 2016 MV Agusta F3 or 4. The slim chassis nestles confidently below the gusset and then comes the intense weight directed through the wrists, with your bum firmly in the sky. Yup, the 748 is as racy as they come. It screams further race bike-nicity with that race-inspired minimalist dash arrangement synonymous with the 1990s. Thumb the starter and the Termignonis rumble into life, complementing that integral Desmo rattle. Oooh it’s finally game on. I was initially slightly anxious about riding such glamour, but I was keen to explore the 748’s notorious skills as my only previous encounter was on a shed of a specimen. However well set-up this one was, compliant isn’t a word I’d associate with any 748. Designed at a time when homologation specials were prevalent, there’s no escaping the competition genes in any given

It's a classic shape and no mistake. The handling still works, too.

situation – it may be yellow but it certainly isn’t particularly mellow. Slow speed riding is a bitch, which makes the 748 a pig in urban climes, chugga-lugging and struggling at low revs with a super-heavy clutch action and poor low rpm etiquette. And my wrists hurt. Throw in some speed, however, and the 748 responds with an eagerness to charge into a corner with engine braking that always feels spot-on and a front-end that revels in abuse. Once past the initial sluggish turn-in, it wants to fall on its side and lacks any sort of neutral steering. It’s a bike that needs

grip to function properly. Once on its side, midcorner, the 748 is epic, but you have to commit all or go home crying. There’s an annoying hesitancy seeping through the ’bars at anything other than deep commitment, not aided by a stiff set-up that’ll never vanish. Being brutally honest, I was slightly disappointed with the engine and just how under-powered the Desmoquattro lump is – or at least compared to the more modern tackle I am used to. Even so, I was expecting more from such an iconic supersports steed. The gearbox may be crisper than a bag of Walkers, the Termis may exude auditory pornography of a kind unheard of, but I was expecting some heftier gonads to appear in shot. So the delivery is linear, yet languid. As you anticipate the slender hit at 8000rpm there’s no ceremony to captivate the senses. That said, every Desmo-induced horsepower can be utilised on the road and allows the chassis to keep on shining. And shine it does. Although there’s an element of sarcasm regarding the museum piece comments at the start of this missive, the 748 isn’t exactly an everyday, all-yearround workhorse and will suffer under neglect. Treat ’em mean and it won’t stay clean – and any hope of making a few quid out of one in the future will evaporate. You have been warned. I could own a 748 but it would never be a sole entry in my garage. You could just buy a 748, keep it under wraps, occasionally lure it into the sitting room to gaze at and sell it in five years when prices become exorbitant. With prices of the cheapest 916 being around £4500-£5000+ (see, CMM told you to buy one in their Jan 2014 issue for £3500…) the little brother is a viable choice, but there’s no hiding from its fashion over function stance. Even so, there’s an indefinable appeal to owning a little yellow peril. This 20-year-old, is still a go-er, so slap the 748 in the middle of a turn and try to contain your emotions!