Ducati 900SS. If your goal is a 1000 EXUP, this Duke will
mean nothing to you. But if you're sick of all that 160mph stuff, you could be
about to fall in love.
The lusty, throaty, cobby throb of the 900 V twin echoed
across the Northamptonshire countryside as the red bike peeled in for another
90mph corner, the wheels tracking as if on rails, the firm, yet not too firm
suspension providing all the feedback the rider needed. Truly a worthy successor
to the 900SS of yore, a perfect integration of modern panache with traditional
flair ooh la la. . ."
Hang on a minute. This isn't right. Oh, well. Might as
well get it over here. Here is the paragraph which you are not supposed to read.
You are not supposed to read it because it refers to a normal, production Ducati
imported to Britain for social and pleasure purposes thereunto, and not some
meticulously assembled factory tester thrust into the hands of waiting
journalisti for an afternoon's euphoric assessment in the hills around Bologna.
The sidestand does not function properly (lifted straight
from the Paso it is too short and only touches the ground on the edge of its
foot. The bike leans over so far you have to dismount to put the stand down,
and as for cleaning the wheels or oiling the chain, you'd better not be in a
hurry).
The steering lock is too restricted (if you can manage a
three point turn on a single track road, you're doing well). The dry clutch
makes horrendous scraping noises as you pull away - gently - from the lights,
and when hot develops an evilly grabby action which only gets better when the
clutch lifter mechanism is fed with Copaslip (to be fair, our testbike actually
had a problem here with its pushrod thrust bearing which would be rectified
under warranty. But when did you last read about a Japanese bike playing up
during a roadtest?)
The carburation up to 4 - 5,000rpm is either too weak, too
rich, or both (OK for gentle getaways but a total bog-down for cracking the
throttle in first at 3,000rpm). The headlight spread and intensity is basically
feeble for a motorcycle that can exceed 140mph. The seat cover is held on with
horrifically naff staples, some of which had already cut through the material
after 250 miles. The speedo reads 100mph at a true 89. The fuel warning light
flickers on at 70 miles and the tank runs dry at 135 (there is no reserve). The
fuel filler cap leaks under braking or on bumpy roads.
And that's just about the lot. If you think it's a long
paragraph, you could always complain to the testing and quality control
department at Cagiva. Or, like most of us, you could shrug your shoulders and
just think how great it is that Ducati have brought out a sporty, low tech V
twin for the masses and what a shame it isn't three grand cheaper. True, Luigi
still works at the Ducati factory, and probably drinks at least four bottles of
wine every lunchtime, but despite even that, the 900SS is a cracking little
motorcycle which the modern market needs more desperately than it knows.
Little is definitely the word. FZRs, GSXRs, mega touring
Gold Wings — they've all got nothing on a bright, red Ducati when it comes to
stopping bystanders in their tracks, and the first thing these people say after
finding out the SS is a 900 is, "How have they made it so small?" Part of the
reason is that it's only got two cylinders, but the 900SS is still incredibly
compact: shorter, narrower and lighter than Honda's CBR600,
Kawasaki's GPX and Suzuki's GSX.
Built to achieve the maximum possible performance from
600cc, these bikes deliver their 75bhp punches at frantic ll,000rpm redlines,
and pay for it with lettuce-wet midranges and bland power deliveries. We spend
pages explaining how different such Japanese bikes are from each other, but when
you compare them with something truly different like a 900SS, you realise that
they're all the bloody same.
In contrast, there is nothing else that feels remotely
like this Ducati (except another Ducati). It's a wrist-heavy riding position,
but for a 5 foot 10 rider it's fine; footrests not too high or too far forward,
plenty of fore and aft room on the seat, backed up by a solid bumstop and a
narrow, grippable tank for throttle-on-the-stop bumpy bends. You can sit in the
seat classic-style Or hang off all over the place and it feels just as good
either way.
The motor, like all Ducati V twins, is a piece of
mechanical art. Crude yet effective. Throbbing yet smooth. Relaxed yet rapid.
Usable poke starts at 2,000rpm in the first two gears with the whole bike
shuddering uncontrollably at the expectation of what is to come.
By 3,000rpm it's smoothed out enough to hold 30mph in
third, while at 4,000 it's on the bottom edge of a 5,000rpm powerband. Above
6,000 the SS comes alive with acceleration that isn't far off a VFR or
GSXR750's. But where a four is screaming and yelling to make its power, the Duke
just oozes it. It delivers the same kind of urgency at 6,000 as a 750 four does
at 9 or 10,000, which is really why it's so damn easy to ride a twin fast. It
feels totally different and very, very good.
The only fly in the Swarfega is the usual Ducati malaise
of forgetting to finish the bike before putting it on sale, in this case the
imperfect carburation below four or five grand. It's not something you notice
all the time but it catches you out at the worst possible moments, like when you
really whack the throttle open at 4,000rpm in third exiting a particularly
beautiful bend: b.b.b.burgh. . . wooly city. It is particularly sad because one
of the nicest things it is possible to do with a 900cc V twin is whack the
throttle open at 4,000rpm in third.
The chassis is about as low tech as it's possible to get.
Round steel tube, non-adjustable forks, cantilever mono-shock a la 1978 Yamaha
DT175. The forks are the chief source of joy because for the first time in many
years for Ducati the spring and damping rates are pretty well spot on instead of
being rated for a small lorry. Let us fervently hope that the man at the factory
who used to decide the suspension settings, and who managed to blight a machine
as recent as the 906 Paso, is peacefully at rest inside an autostrada flyover
somewhere.
Having said that, the rear unit is still a touch on the
hard side for a 10 and a half stone rider. A softer spring, a lot less preload
or a fat bastard would certainly keep the bars pointing in the right direction
on the exits to bumpy corners, but it's not critical. Ten out of ten for the
rear rebound damping adjuster which is easy ? to use and covers every setting i
from far too much to far too little.
What all this means is a bike \ that feels about 100
pounds lighter than a 906 Paso, and with much lighter, more neutral steering.
Like the engine, there isn't a suitable Japanese comparison. The dimensions, and
how light it feels, are somewhere around an FZR600, but there's loads of trail
and a fairly shallow head angle, giving that rare thing (cue tired old cliche
#536), tramline stability in corners.
You pay for this stability by being unable to flick from
upright to full lean as fast as an FZR600 (or any of its mates) but for the road
it's difficult to think of a single reason why this matters a tinker's cuss.
Graced with 17-inch easy-clean Brembo wheels and gigantic Pirelli Sport Radials
the 900SS banks over exquisitely well and is entirely dEVOid of the closed
throttle steering/sitting up under braking gremlins affecting the 906 Paso
(largely due, we now know, to that bike's dislike for its OE Michelin radials).
On the SS the Pirellis' grip is superb wet or dry, though the rear profile is so
flat it may eventually, like the 906 Paso, invite you to ride right off the edge
of the tread. Enthusiastic road use has every single millimetre of rubber
severely scuffed.
The SS is effortless on motorways too, though sitting at
an indicated 100mph/6,000rpm gets a bit boring after a while. The mirrors give a
good view and don't blur at such speeds either. If the bike is uncomfortable
(which is doubtful unless you happen to be sitting on the pillion seat) the
range of 120 miles never lets you find out.
Round town the Ducati is extremely miserable, lumping
along at a minimum clutch-fully-home speed of 10mph. What with that, the
imprecise carburation and the restricted lock the SS is as unsuited for city use
as Mark Forsyth is for organised thought.
Bikes like the 900SS always get looked after better than
most but long term one or two nasties could show up. The stainless steel and
aluminium exhaust, which incidentally sounds more raspy than the deep, fruity
bellow of a Paso, looks like it'll last a lifetime (bar the odd speck of rust on
the welds) but it's got a couple of plugs screwed in — presumably for gas
temperature sensors during servicing — and they've got to be prime candidates
for seizing in place. The gold paint on the disc rotors was already flaking off
where the disc bolts had been tightened up. The wiring loom is neither as neat
nor as well made nor as well protected as a Honda's. It would be foolish to
imagine that the quality of the plating on the clips and fasteners is up to
Honda standard either. The soft handlebar grips disintegrate at regular
intervals. Finally, as the owner of a slightly troublesome 906 Paso, I'm not
convinced that Ducatis as a species are particularly reliable.
Would that put me off the 900SS? Would it hell. There are
so few alternatives to the Japanese obsession with ultimate speed, power and
lightness that the 900SS is a crucial new bike. It's probably no better than the
original 900SS was in is time, but as that motorcycle was one of the most
rewarding sportsters money could buy, that's no bad thing.
If or when you get fed up with the blandola 160mph
treadmill, and you're rich, you could try a couple of Italian 450cc singles
bolted together in an L shape and have more fun than you ever dreamed possible
chasing — maybe sometimes even passing — those who have yet to see the light.