Ducati 900SS

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.

Source Trevor Franklin