Almost Vintage

On a recent multi-day ride with my husband and two of our riding buddies, a series of minor motorcycle mishaps got me thinking about bikes that are almost-not-quite vintage.  20 miles into our journey on Interstate-88 in upstate New York, our friend Art signaled for a pull-over because “something was falling off” his 2002 BMW K1200 RS.  His turn signal had come loose before, and now wouldn’t stay on at all, so he stashed it in his panniers. Another 20 miles in, my husband Andrea, exclaimed, “The front end is loose” on his 2005 Ducati Multistrada 1000 DS, “and I need to stop.” A bracket welded by the previous owner had cracked, so the entire dashboard was moving around, and likely to render the motorcycle unusable. “I’m going to have to go back home,” he stated dryly, “but you guys can keep going.” He was riding his 2005 Multi because his newer Multistrada 1200 had a faulty sensor, and the part hadn’t arrived in time.  Unwilling to abandon the trip, Art and Andrea secured the dash with zip ties – a toolkit essential.  It worked! Then, on our return from Pennsylvania a couple of days later, the brake lights on Tim’s 2006 Yamaha FJR1300 stopped working. There was no quick fix, but Tim’s helmet had a brake light that signaled his intentions. We all mused that none of these things would have happened on a day ride, and noted that my 2019 Ducati Scrambler Desert Sled was the only motorcycle without problems. It was also the newest of our four machines.

The Ducatis, the BMW, and the Yamaha are all great older motorcycles for a touring trip. None of them is particularly sought-after by collectors, and they hold no particular monetary value. The question arose: is it worth investing the time and money to keep them running?  Art was with us when we purchased the Multistrada from a private seller on the coldest possible Valentine’s Day in 2020.  We dubbed the bike Valentino to mark the occasion. We did not pay a lot for it; it was shortly before the COVID-19 pandemic broke out and wreaked havoc on new and used motorcycle sales.  Valentino was in excellent condition, and I ended up riding it on a 10-day trip that took us to Asheville, North Carolina and back, after the pandemic killed our plans to ride in Italy that summer. It was comfortable on the highway, fun in the mountain twisties, and managed fine when we encountered a long section of gravel on the Blue Ridge Parkway.

The Multistrada 1000 DS (for dual spark, not dual sport, as it is sometimes thought) was designed for Ducati by Pierre Terblanche, better known for the Supermono, the 888, the Paul Smart 1000 LE, and the Hypermotard models, among others, as well as for the Royal Enfield Himalayan and work for Moto Guzzi and Norton. Ducati unveiled the Multistrada in late 2001; it immediately split opinions. It was among the first motorcycles in a new category of touring bikes that were not adapted from sport bikes.  Critics generally hailed the Multi’s engine, a 992cc, 84hp desmodromic air-cooled twin, and appreciated the dry multi-plate clutch system. Its looks drew negative comments, however, and it is sometimes referred to as Ducati’s “ugly duckling.” It was my first liter bike, and I immediately enjoyed its massive torque, compared to my other motorcycles, as I was mostly riding my Ducati Scrambler Icon at the time. I found Valentino attractive in a unique way, with its typical trellis frame and headlight/windscreen combination. I liked the black plastics, the seat was comfortable, the height reasonable, and I enjoyed the sound of the pipes; this one came with the less common Staintune exhaust. The stiffness of the clutch lever and the gearbox took a little more getting used to; the Multi wants to be in the “correct” gear, and like other motorcycles, sometimes refuses to go into neutral.  All of these aspects just added to its Italian character, as some riders like to say.

Valentino didn’t need much from us; just regular oil changes, keeping the battery on a trickle charger in the winter, replacing the brake fluid…that was about it. After three years of ownership and reminders from an always-on service light, we took it to our local Ducati dealer to ask about the full Desmo service.  They quoted us the industry norm for the US, about $1800.  I opted instead just to replace the belts for less than half that amount. When they handed the old belts back to me, they seemed perfectly fine; we assumed the valves were probably fine, too. At that moment, we decided to keep the motorcycle and address problems as they arose rather than taking the preventive maintenance approach.  That is, the cost of the motorcycle was such that we could keep riding it until it no longer ran, and then sell the parts. I had been offered more money than we paid for the bike, just for the rare exhaust.

Then a few problems required attention. The poorly designed left fairing that covers the battery lost another tooth; the three different attachments on this piece are easy to break if you don’t know how they fit. Against my husband’s suggestion, I temporarily secured the fairing with duct tape; a few days later, it blew off across the New York Thruway on our way to the Americade Rally in Lake George. Finding a replacement was not easy, as apparently this is common problem; there were plenty of used right fairings but no left ones to be found! We ended up buying one new from Ducati Rome while on a trip and bringing it back in the suitcase. It was a less expensive option than the same new part in the US.

We then noticed the clutch was dragging. The bike pulled even in neutral, when you could find it, and shifting was more difficult. We bought a clutch plate pack, replaced it, and changed the clutch fluid. Now we are waiting for the new headlight fairing bracket to arrive. Finding a used replacement was again not easy. When motorcycles are no longer in production, it becomes more challenging to buy OEM parts. On one hand, we love the motorcycle and want to keep it in running use. On the other hand, we have to ask how much effort we want to put into it. The motorcycle is unlikely to become a collector’s piece. Meanwhile, dealers in the US are now charging $200/hour for service, and we don’t necessarily have the time or skills to deal with all the problems ourselves. We purchased a computer to read error codes, which is helpful, but it doesn’t mean we can fix them.  Like our friends Art and Tim, we are trying to keep these machines going, but we debate the extent of our commitment to them.

I recently joined a Facebook group for Ducati Multistrada 1000/1100 owners and have been enjoying their enthusiasm for this motorcycle. A lot of posts begin with “my bike is having a problem,” but there are also comments about how delightful the old, but not vintage, Multi is when it’s running well, and what a grand tourer it is. I have to concur.  I now have a more modern, more powerful Ducati, but there’s something special about the way the Multistrada pulls while the riding position keeps you comfortable. The design has also grown on me. It seems more classic than outdated.  With some zip ties in the right fairing pocket and an occasional fix here and there, we should have many more miles together.