Little joy: Ducati Multistrada 950
‘Entry-level’ Multistrada Price starts at £11,132 Smaller engine, similar chassis, same concept
DUCATI’S MULTISTRADA 950 is on slightly dodgy ground. Literally: the tarmac is peppered with leftover .22-calibre chippings, or perhaps they’re shards of volcanic debris, scattered across the racing line by Fuerteventurian wind action. Either way, Ducati’s guide rider, silver-haired rally legend Beppe Gualini, drifts tidily across the road and traces the line of Armco; shimmering blue Atlantic a mere cliff-drop to the right, cut-throat serrated strata of Canary Island geology to the left.
Earlier, Beppe warned against following him too closely. Sure enough, as he taps the power on his Multistrada 950, the next bike in line – mine – is machine-gunned by a spray of igneous ammunition issued from his rear Pirelli Scorpion Trail II. Gravel ricochets off the 950’s screen and beak, but thankfully no headlights are smashed in the making of this story, and the Multistrada’s aftermarket alloy radiator shroud, fitted as a sensible precaution, preserves the coolant’s dignity. The rider, however, is caught in the crossfire, taking one in the leg and another missile getting past the Multistrada’s handguard defences and ping-stinging off a finger. Ouch.
Ducati’s Multistrada 950 is on slightly dodgy ground metaphorically, too. It’s a mix of Multistrada Enduro and standard Multistrada 1200 parts; the same frame as both, but with the 1200’s riding position, bars, pegs, nose fairing and tank, combined with the Enduro’s seat, brakes, twin-sided swingarm and tail section. With the accessory packs and optional wire wheels, your 950 can, almost, become a mini version of either of its bigger brothers.
However, you can’t have the 1200 S’s semi-active suspension on your 950, nor the Enduro’s 30-litre petrol tank. And that’s the slightly dodgy bit: the 950’s spec sheet is in part an inevitable list of what it lacks compared to the 1200s. It doesn’t have top-flight Imu-based electronics, or a quickshifter, or cruise control, or a colour TFT screen. Even calling the 950 strippedback, simplified and budget-conscious sails uncomfortably close to sounding like a down-spec, inferior version of the flagship. It’s why Ducati privately admit the 950’s image was a concern, and one of the reasons it’s taken this long to make it.
At least the 950’s 111bhp V-twin isn’t a sleeved-down 1200, nor from the 959 Panigale. Instead it’s the 937cc motor also used in the Hypermotard and forthcoming Supersport. So it’s 22 per cent smaller than the 1200 S and 29 per cent less powerful, but at £11,132 on the road it’s 33 per cent cheaper. So it’s all less – but at least
it’s less in the right order.
Head-on, the 950 looks like a 1200; from the rear like an Enduro. But the 950 does more than just look like a 1200; it feels like one to sit on – and this is a very good thing. Like the 1200s, the 950 is exceptionally comfortable, perfectly balancing a wide, open set of bars with low pegs, lots of legroom, and a slightly canted-forward torso offsetting wind resistance. The 840mm seat height is unadjustable, but fitting a different seat can alter it across a range from 820mm to 860mm. The 950’s screen has the same, easy, one-handed adjustment as the bigger bikes, but it makes little difference whether it’s up or down – a Pikes Peak-style shorty screen is more comfortable because it reduces buffeting. But you can ride the 950 all day without so much as a twinge, anywhere.
The other 1200-sized bonus is the 950’s 20-litre fuel tank. With an admirable
42.5mpg fuel consumption figure measured while hammering the 950 relentlessly around Fuerteventura’s nadgery roads, it gives a full-to-fumes range of around 180 miles.
The 950’s switchgear isn’t backlit as per the 1200, but has the same clean layout as the new Monster 1200’s switches. They’re functionally basic, and feature a foglight switch for when foglights are fitted, but there’s no room for a heated grips switch because there aren’t any listed in the 950’s accessories catalogue. Not even as part of the Touring Pack, which consists of simply panniers and a centrestand – is that technically a ‘pack’?
From a rider’s-eye view, the 950’s build quality is good – tidy cable routing, bright silver painted bars and riser clamps, beefy mirror stems (with almost 180° rear view), 12-volt socket, and a budget LCD version of the 1200’s clocks complete with a Patrick Moore monocle for the gear position indicator. Four rider modes – Sport, Touring, Urban and Enduro – offer various power outputs, throttle response, traction control and ABS settings. All are also inter-customisable.
Selecting your setting, popping the key in the ignition (unlike the keyless 1200s) and sliding down the starter button finally breathes life into the 950 – and, like all Ducatis of the last five or six years, the Ministrada bustles into a smooth, harmonious and untroubling tickover. Its flattened exhaust is barely audible above the sound of the rider gently weeping at the sheer civility of the Italian machine.
First gear engages with a buoyant click, the clutch is as light as a whipped soufflé, the ride-by-wire throttle is preternaturally disposed to respond precisely without snatch or glitch, drivetrain free of lash and shudder at any revs or gear. This is Ducati without the blood and thunder of old – which may upset purists, but it’s also lost that demanding, alienating elitism that put many people off. The 950 is accessible, unintimidating and rideable. It’s a perfect My First Ducati Multistrada.
But while the 1200 isn’t exactly hard to ride, it is bloody quick. The 950 is even easier to ride, but it’s a lot less bloody quick. Power is evenly spread across a wide rev range despite the absence of variable valve timing – Ducati are right when they say the 950 doesn’t need it. But the Ministrada has lost some dramatic punch – on stop-start roads, I hoped the 950 would enthusiastically bob its front wheel up in first gear. It doesn’t – it’s not gutless, but it’s tamed and in stark contrast with something like Yamaha’s MT-09; less appealing to look at but more funky to ride. The 950 doesn’t have the grand opera of a 1200, but it’s open to anyone.
Another part of the 950’s all-rounder appeal is its soft chassis set-up. Stroke the powerful front Brembo brakes and the forks nose-dive through their first inch of travel before the damping kicks in. Adding a few clicks of fork compression and half a turn of rear rebound (no need for a screwdriver – the ignition key fits perfectly) tightens the plot up, but the overall balance of the bike remains pillowy – not uncontrolled, not harsh, but it’s possible for it to bottom out through a dip in the road. Low-speed control is blissful – plenty of steering lock, lots of wide-bar control and, using the rear brake trail bike-style, you can hold the 950 balanced almost at a standstill for as long as traffic lights need to change. At speed the 950 whisks along breezily, with more stability than the agile, active 1200, but with lazier steering.
But ultimately I can’t help thinking Ducati missed a trick with the Multistrada 950. It’s a lovely bike with no inherent faults and much to savour – but in stock road trim, the 950 feels more a natural rival for Honda’s VFR800X Crossrunner, Suzuki’s V-strom 1000 or KTM’S defunct 1050 Adventure – none of which lit up the sales figure charts. If Ducati wanted Honda Africa Twin-sized sales, dressing the 950 up as a mini-1200 Enduro would’ve been better: lower gearing, crash bars, wire wheels, bash plate, foglights, fancy graphics and Pirelli Scorpion Rally II tyres as standard would’ve ramped up the interest considerably. I know because Ducati park such a bike in the hotel foyer, and it looks much more fun than the stock bike.
And, in that spec, the Multistrada 950 would handle any dodgy ground impeccably. SIMON HARGREAVES
“Power is spread evenly across a wide rev range”