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Inside Supermoto

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September 2025

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No sleep till Redruth

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A case of mistaken identity

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August 2025

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Streetfighting years

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‘He was a man of truth’

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What the TT does to your engine

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July 2025

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Cheap for a reason?

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SuperEnduro rocks Newcastle

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‘The buzz of the TT is a million times more than riding a short circuit’

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‘I’ve got the throttle open, the front brake on, and I’m on full lock…’

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120 years in the making

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How many valves is too many?

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June 2025

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WHEN A BIRTHDAY PRESENT TURNS INTO THE ADVENTURE OF A LIFETIME…

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New bikes

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’81 Triumph TR7T

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Easy as that

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‘Y’know what? I want one’

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SAM SUNDERLAND

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Trackday Clobber

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SIX MONTHS FROM HOME

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BRADLEY RAY

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THE VINTAGE MOTORCYCLE CLUB

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DAN LINFOOT & HIS DAD

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THE KTM DESIGN TEAM

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A RIDE WITH MICK GRANT

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A RIDE WITH RANDY MAMOLA

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Glorious ride: A land lost in time…

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GOING THE EXTRA MILES

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Part road, part motocross. Utterly thrilling. _Bike_ goes behind the scenes of the bizarre but brilliant British Supermoto Championship

#### **Oliver’s, but not as you know it**

Legendary track Oliver’s Mount in Scarborough, North Yorkshire. For the British Supermoto Championship the track is modified, with jumps, off-road sections and seriously tight twisting chicanes. On paper it’s a strange combination of bikes, riding styles and track conditions – but it makes for some engrossing racing.

■ Alex Mullaney, 17, slides into the main straight on his Italian-built TM 450 SMK – the 449cc, 115kg bike model that’s won multiple World Supermoto titles. Despite his age Mullaney is one of the quickest riders. ‘I won the academy championship in my second year, then I won it in 2019. Now I’m under-21 British Supermoto champion.’ Mullaney sees it as a stepping stone into the world of road racing. ‘It’s a good introduction,’ he says. ‘There are a few lads who I know like Davey Todd and Christian Iddon who started here. I’m starting to get into the road bikes as well, see where that takes me – hopefully I’ll get into BSB or something like that.’

Affordable and low maintenance – that’s a big part of Supermoto’s appeal. ‘You can buy a bike off the shelf and come racing. It’s an easy sport to get into,’ says competitor Oliver Holmes. ‘You don’t need the fancy wheels, fancy tyres, fancy bike; you can just buy a stock bike and race. You can start on a motocross bike. KTM and Husqvarna, TM and GasGas are the ones that will do a Supermoto-type bike \[from new\] – at least that way you save on having to buy wheels, getting the suspension shortened, so on. Out of the box they’re quick bikes.’

‘I’ve got 18 British championships’ says Chris Hodgson. ‘I’ve travelled the world doing it – I’ve raced in Australia, Asia, done a season in America and then the world championships in Europe. It’s given me a good life,’ says the 36yearold. ‘It is really good for bike control. Just imagine: we’re on slick tyres, then you’re coming onto tarmac with shit all over the tyres – it’s gonna move about. You just let it happen – once you’ve got that control, you’ve cracked it. Imagine going into a corner with your bike at 90° – you’ve made part of the corner already. You’re not riding round it, your bike’s made part of the corner.’

Crash bobbins, footpeg sliders and handguards are essential bits of kit. ‘The beauty of these bikes is when you fall off them, 90 per cent of the time you’re just smacking the handguards,’ says TM rider Chris Hodgson. ‘It’s not like you’ve sent a £30,000 Fireblade into the gravel trap and you’re sat on your knees crying.’

‘It’s so unique as a sport,’ says Jess Mitchell, who competes with her 350cc KTM. ‘It’s completely different to motocross and road racing – you get the road and the dirt. The paddock is so friendly, it’s a lovely atmosphere. I’ve been doing Supermoto from 11 years old. It’s a family thing – my dad does it, my uncle races and then me.’

:a[Tripz.UK]{href='https://Tripz.UK' } team rider Jay Smith leaps off the biggest jump at Oliver’s Mount. Rider Alex Mullaney admits it’s a highlight of the track. ‘I like doing that jump,’ he says. ‘Second gear, hit it full throttle, I love it. In qualifying I dented my rim \[from landing the jump\] so I had to fit a new one.’ While the top speeds in Supermoto are relatively low compared to road racing, it’s still fraught with risks. ‘I’ve broken my left wrist three times and I’ve done the right one once, from hitting the deck,’ adds Mullaney. ‘Knocked myself out a few times. I’ve had big crashes but I’ve always managed to get back up.’ Oliver Holmes is also a fan of the jumps in Supermoto. ‘You just hit it as hard as you can, and send it. You tend to land rear first and try to ride it out, keep it going. I’ve had a few where you panic mid-air. You can move the bike in the air, rev to put the back end down, and rear brake to put the back end up – that’s from motocross’.

Jay Smith leads Chris Hodgson into the chicane. Smith is a veteran of the sport, having raced for 20 years. ‘I love Supermoto,’ he says. ‘I always have done since the first day I tried it. I use motocross to keep my bike fitness up but Supermoto is my one true passion. I’ve never won the British championship, I’ve always come second. So this year I’m trying to adopt a different mindset – not “win it or bin it” – I need to get good solid points’. Smith’s tactic clearly worked – since being photographed he claimed the British championship, beating Hodgson by eight points. ‘I am 42 now so it’s taking its toll on the body. It is quite a physical track – lots of stop, start, off-road. It’s quite mental because there’s so many tricky bits, you don’t want to tuck the front or lose the rear. I’ll be glad when today’s over – Monday and Tuesday I’ll be a bit sore.’

‘Supermoto is a good grounding sport for people coming through to road racing,’ says mechanic Ian Collins. ‘They learn how to set a bike up properly because you can’t set up a Supermoto bike properly. There’s too much variation in terrain – there’s tarmac, dirt, gravel. You’ll always be suffering in a certain area, so we try to set it as best we can to do most of the track without giving the rider any drama.’

‘You ride slicks’ says Oliver Holmes. ‘You’ve just got to accept it’s going to move around on the dirt. A set is £400. I’ll put on a set for the Saturday and a set for the Sunday. I’ll put a set on for qualifying, then at lunchtime turn them round, then second and third round turn them round again so they get even wear. Sunday I’ll do the same thing. I use warmers, to get them as hot as you can. If you’ve got warm tyres you know you’ve got grip’.

‘It’s a proper supermoto-specific bike. It’s absolutely brilliant,’ says Chris Hodgson, referring to his TM. ‘They’re completely hand-built. You buy them for £13,000 and you can spec them from the factory’. Like virtually all the bikes in the paddock, his bike is a single-cylinder 450cc four-stroke.

‘A couple of guys go with twostrokes but I think the four-strokes have advanced that much over the past few years that you can’t really go past them now.’

‘It’s an old one this, a 2018 KTM 450,’ says Blaine Pearson. ‘I’ve put a sixspeed gearbox in it, 320mm disc, Brembo caliper and master cylinder, full carbon exhaust, everything’s titanium… I bought this off Alex Mullaney, one of the top lads. He spends all the money then I buy it off his dad cheap! I still get nervous on the start, you could have 35 people going into a hairpin. You still get nervous but you work all week, do all the overtime just to come here for a weekend.’

Mechanic Dan Hunter checks the tyre pressure on one of team :a[Tripz.UK]{href='https://Tripz.UK' }’s bikes. Ian Collins, mechanic for Jay Smith, explains why it’s so important to use tyre warmers. ‘I run 28psi in the rear and 30/31psi in the front. All the tyre warmers are set at 85°C. 60bhp on tarmac is not a massive amount compared to British Superbikes, but once the tyre goes onto grass, gravel or dirt it loses temperature. And then you’re back on the tarmac so you’ve got to generate heat.’

The :a[Tripz.UK]{href='https://Tripz.UK' } team dog, Bubba, named after Supercross legend James ‘Bubba’ Stewart. The paddock atmosphere is as laid-back as possible – everyone knows everyone.

‘It’s a good laugh,’ says rider Blaine Pearson. ‘We have a few beers at night, have a fire, a party, then next day go race our bikes. You can battle hard and barge each other but you come back and shake hands and everything is alright.’

Looking for somewhere to go over the August Bank Holiday weekend? Why not head to Oliver’s Mount for this year’s round? A single-day ticket is £15, or for both days it’s £25. Camping options, too. More info at :a[oliversmount.ticketco.events]{href='https://oliversmount.ticketco.events' }

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It’s been a rather good year for new motorcycles – from bargain supernakeds, to reworked sportsbikes, to pocket-friendly adventurers from little-heard-of brands. But which one stands above the rest and makes us most gooey when we ride it? Our panel of fussy experts and know-it-all testers voted for their favourites, and after much bickering there was a clear winner. Our 2025 Bike of the Year is revealed in this issue.

Plus, ever wondered how much a MotoGP rider spends a year? Jack Miller reveals all over a cuppa with Mat Oxley. We also discover the wonderful world of Supermoto, take on the Land’s End Trial on a 40-year-old Suzuki DR250, and cruise along France’s fabulous Route Napoléon on Ducati’s XDiavel V4. And much, much more…

#### The September issue of Bike is out now at all good newsagents, or why not :a[subscribe and enjoy 3 issues for just £5 in our summer sale!]{href='https://www.greatmagazines.co.uk/bike-magazine?utm_source=bikemagazine.co.uk&amp;utm_medium=referral&amp;utm_campaign=bau_bike&amp;utm_content=newissue_bike' }

Fancy doing something achievable yet ludicrous? The Land’s End Trial is 16 hours of mud, rocks and bacon sarnies. And it’s utterly fantastic…

No pressure. Just ride up the rocky cliff face with hundreds of people waiting for you to bin it PICS: JOHN WESTLAKE, ADAM SMALLMAN, JOHN BENTHAM, ANDREW TRENOWETH

**A**t 9.42pm on a drizzly April evening I’m waved away by the cheery start team of Britain’s longest long-distance trial. Ahead lie 16 gnarly trials sections and 243 miles of trails and lanes that wriggle from Bridgwater in Somerset to Redruth in Cornwall. It’s a 16-hour test of skill, endurance and navigation. And by 9.43pm I’m lost. I somehow miss the exit and tour Bridgwater Rugby Club car park wondering where everyone’s gone until a sniggering attendant waves me out onto the main road. This idiocy is, as I fear, a sign of things to come.

In fact, there’s been a healthy dollop of idiocy already. One of my accomplices, Rupert Paul (former _Bike_ staffer and a very clever man), sourced a natty 3D-printed road book reader from the internet that looked like a great buy. The Land’s End Trial requires some way of reading the massive list of navigation instructions and his purchase saved him £50 on the pukka rally-spec boxes the rest of us stumped up for.

But as his bike sits out in the rain while we wait for our starts, water seeps into the plastic box, leaching out the printer dye of his directions like some GCSE chemistry experiment. And when Rupe turns the roller to find some words that don’t look like a hippy tie-dye disaster, the soggy paper rips.

‘I’ve got an hour and some Sellotape,’ he says. ‘I’ll fix it.’

Or indeed not. Shortly after escaping the car park, I see Rupe by the roadside trying to decipher his litmus paper experiment. We decide the best thing is that he follows me, and we head out towards Exmoor and the coast.

My rose-tinted prediction was that this will be an ethereal wonderland, with the full moon bathing the sea and Moors with silvery light as we chuff through the scenery on our little bikes. Well, that doesn’t happen. It’s pissing down, and as we climb on to Exmoor the fog is so bad I slow to 10mph as all I can see is a bright white ball surrounding my fancy new LED headlight bulb.

We’re on titchy, squiggly lanes with slippery grass down the middle, and 10mph feels sketchy – I keep swerving left in panic as the verge disappears, only to eventually work out they’re passing places. I can’t see anything.

I stop and ask Rupe to have a go in front as I fear there’s something wrong with my eyes. But no, he fares no better, though we do eventually catch some other riders which makes matters easier – at least then we can follow their lights at 8mph. At some point we do the first trials section, but all I can remember is that bouncing up a rocky path seems a lot easier than riding down slimy roads with grass in the middle.

After the section there’s a wet, rutty trail that winds its way up a gentle hill. My Suzuki DR250 chugs along happily in second gear, the Pirelli MT43s finding grip despite the slimy conditions. I’m musing that this is a lot more technical than the rocky section we’ve just done when I spy a red tail light at a height and position consistent with a motorcycle resting in a hedge. As I get closer I see its rider clambering out from underneath.

I pull up behind so he can use my light to see what he’s doing as he hoiks his KTM upright. He’s flustered but seems fine and roars off. Then, 20m later, I watch him give the KTM a handful, the rear steps out and he’s on his arse again. This time he’s damaged his phone holder and he gives the phone to me, telling me to look after it. Sure I say, putting it in my pocket, wondering why he can’t put it in his. Before I can ask, he’s back on his bike and fishtailing off into the night. I’ve no idea who he is. I didn’t even see his event number. Odd.

Eventually Rupe and I arrive at the village of Barbrook. From largely existing in a glowing ball of foggy isolation, we suddenly arrive at a brightly lit petrol station that stays open for the event, with hundreds of bikes and riders milling about. Across the road locals are dishing out tea and cake in the packed village hall. Heaven may well look like this. I hand Mystery Man’s phone to an official who promises to do something with it. Sell it, perhaps.

Buoyed by refreshments, Rupe adjusts his chain in an optimistic attempt to lessen a gear change problem he’s having with his Moto Morini Kanguro, which has a linkage from the gearbox output shaft on the right that goes across to the left, presumably to ensure it doesn’t work well. Futile adjustments made, we head off.

#### You want history? The LET has plenty

The first Land’s End Trial (LET) was held in 1908 – it was the London to Land’s End Reliability Trial back then. Like today’s trial it was for cars and bikes, but to start with the focus was more on distance rather than getting through tricky terrain. As vehicles got more reliable it evolved into a test of trials skills coupled with the demand of getting no sleep.

Where possible the event uses sections that were on the early routes. This photo of a section called Beggars Roost in Devon is from 1936 – we did it this year in the middle of the night. From what I remember, it was in better condition in 1936. Other excellently named sections are Felon’s Oak (first used in 1955), named because a nearby tree was used for hanging crims; and Crackington (first used in 1936), which is famous for being covered in slurry by farmers just before competitors arrive…

The next section poses no problems for my DR250. The little Suzuki scampers up the rocky climb and I’m so confident in its ability to make me look competent that I stop in a restart box. These hateful inventions are thrown in by the organisers to make the sections even more difficult – just when you have your momentum going for a tricky bit, you have to come to a full stop in a box. Cue loads of wheelspin, wheelies and wobbling as you try to get going.

I wait at the top of the trail for Rupe and use the time to congratulate myself on buying the DR. Getting the French import registered was annoyingly difficult (_Bike_, August) but I’m glad I persevered. Because of its low everything – seat, first gear, power (26bhp) and weight (118kg) – it’s proving perfect for this job. Admittedly the 250cc single is a pig to kick-start when hot, but I’m sure I’ll work that out. The main thing is it can tramp along at 60mph when we occasionally have to go on A-roads, while being idiot-proof off-road.

Rupe has followed a similar, but more exotic path with his Morini – the 250cc V-twin is just a bit faster, longer and heavier. In fact, where is Rupe?

A couple of bikes pass and I begin to worry. There were several points on the section that could have caused a crash, but surely no other bikes would have been allowed past? Then another rider pulls alongside. ‘Are you waiting for a bloke on a Morini?’ he asks. Yeeeees… ‘It’s fucked. He couldn’t get first gear. I think he’s gone home.’ And off he rides.

Gone home? My 2am brain finally realises this is unlikely given Rupe lives 250 miles away and is on a shagged Morini. I try to ring but of course there’s no reception. I press on alone. Turns out Rupe and the Morini limped to his sister’s place nearby.

The next three hours are a blur. The results show I cleaned a few sections but all I remember is the constant, all-consuming concentration required to ride and navigate through the night, never letting myself relax because that’s when you miss a tiny trail spearing off to the left or right. The riding rhythm is hypnotic, your brain working so hard to process all the visual information that time stops and you exist in a mesmeric bubble of pure concentration. I’ve no idea if I’ve been riding for 20 minutes or two hours. I see no other riders.

**» Tools** You need enough to adjust the chain (mud and miles are killers), swap a spark plug and tighten loose things. Some riders take spare inner tubes, but I just took some tyre slime and an electric pump.

**» Bar muffs** The temperature can plummet by 4am so you need these or heated grips. Getting properly cold isn’t the problem you might think though because every section warms you up.

**» Food and drink** My recommendations are peanuts and coffee. Sweets are a nightmare because they cause a sugar rush then a crash, possibly literally. You could do without anything – there are plenty of food stops on the route.

**» Headlight** A top-quality LED bulb from lighting expert Paul Goff (:a[norbsa02.freeuk.com/goffyleds.htm]{href='https://norbsa02.freeuk.com/goffyleds.htm' }) is what you need. Mine cost £48 – there are plenty cheaper, but if it fails, you’re out.

**» Road book holder** I bodged one for the Edinburgh Trial then went straight out and bought a proper one. You really don’t want unnecessary hassle. My F2R RB801 is backlit, waterproof and easy to turn, and cost £105. Visit :a[f2r.pt]{href='https://f2r.pt' }

Then, suddenly, there are lots, all parked near a domestic garage doubling as a soup kitchen. Jovial ladies hand out coffees and bacon baps as we all chat in whispers so as not to annoy the locals. Or bore them. I see another member of our group – Adam – who had set off before Rupe and I, and we head off together, taking it in turns to navigate to give our brains a break.

In my rose-tinted plan, dawn would be a pivotal moment. I’d be riding along a coastal trail as the sun rises and marvel as its golden beams strafe the landscape. It would be one of those motorcycling moments I’d cherish forever. Instead, the drizzle stops for a bit and then it’s light. Oh well.

But you know what? I’m enjoying myself. Getting through the night feels like an achievement and the DR makes the daylight sections fun rather than nerve-racking. Of course, some are too difficult for my mediocre skills, but there’s never a question of not making it to the top. If all else fails I just sit down and paddle like a numpty. Adam is on a high too – his ancient XT500 is running perfectly and he’s only head-butted the scenery once.

And so we come to the final section, Blue Hills. Under normal circumstances this would be a doddle. Although it’s steep and has a couple of tight turns, it’s dry and rocky and is nothing compared to what’s gone before. But two factors conspire to make it tricky. Firstly, we haven’t slept for 36 hours and can barely string a sentence together, never mind plot a sensible route up a hill. And secondly, hundreds of spectators are gawping at our every move. Half of Cornwall has come out to see a collection of fatigued older gentlemen (mostly; there are a few ladies) ride up a path.

Ten minutes later we’re both on our way to the finish point in Redruth. It wasn’t pretty, but the spectators were denied the massive prang they’d hoped for. We collect our finisher’s certificates and sink beers, slapping other competitors on the back, shaking hands with complete strangers and generally being deliriously happy. The feeling is an intoxicating mix of elation, pride, satisfaction and relief, and I’ve never known anything like it. Like a lot of motorcycle sport, long-distance trials are understandably regarded as stupid things to do. But like a lot of motorcycle sport, they’re also utterly brilliant.

Probably. If you get a light dirt bike – a Yamaha XT225 Serow, Beta Alp or Honda CRF250/300 would be perfect – and have some trail riding experience, you’ll be fine. You won’t win, but you’ll finish. None of our crew are accomplished off-road riders but the only non-finish was a mechanical. The key thing is not to try it on a heavy bike – anything over 150kg is going to require some proper trials or enduro skills.

You have three long-distance trials to choose from. The Land’s End is in April, the Edinburgh is in September (it’s in the Peaks, not Edinburgh) and the Exeter is in January (ie, fricking cold and therefore hardcore).

To enter from scratch is a faff. First you go on the Auto Cycle Union (the UK motorcycle sport authority) website to join up, then become a member of your local trials club. Then you need to join The Motor Cycling Club, which runs the long distance trials, and enter one of the events. It’s an hour or an evening in front of a laptop depending on your web savvy. More info: :a[themotorcyclingclub.org.uk]{href='https://themotorcyclingclub.org.uk' }

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Ducati's new **XDiavel V4** is a machine that defies labels. We rumble along the fabulous Route Napoléon in search of what this imposing device is really all about

**I**dentity is a difficult and sometimes contentious thing. When I lived in Wales, for example, it came up a lot in conversations. ‘What does it mean to be Welsh?’ people seemed to ask themselves. ‘And how can I prove that being Welsh makes me better than the English?’

Ducati’s new XDiavel V4 is a motorcycle going through its own identity crisis. Ducati calls the feet-forward machine a cruiser, but… ah… well, there's the contentious bit. They’re wrong. Or, at the very least, they’re confused. Another Italian of confused identity was Napoleon Bonaparte. So, on a stretch of road in southern France that honours him, I’m spending some time trying to figure out what the XDiavel V4 is and isn’t.

‘Wait,’ I hear you say. ‘I know American schools are not the finest, but surely they taught you that Napoleon was French?’

They did. But he was born Napoleone di Buonaparte. In Corsica – an island under French control for only a few months before his birth. Hitherto, it had been governed by Italian speakers. Napoleon’s parents had roots in Tuscany and Lombardy. He didn’t properly speak French until he was nine years old; thereafter he spoke with a Corsican accent.

In fairness, though, you find a lot of tributes to him in France. For example: the spectacular Route Napoléon, a scenic ride from the French Riviera to Grenoble. The route loosely follows a famous march that Napoleon undertook in 1815. You’ll know from reruns of _Sharpe_ that Napoleon had been exiled the year before to the island of Elba. Because people of the time didn’t have motorcycles to keep them entertained, they amused themselves by making bad decisions. They exiled a charismatic, self-appointed emperor to a not-far-away island with enough resources to form a 1100-strong fighting force. What could possibly go wrong?

Route Napoléon starts in Golfe-Juan, where Napoleon and his merry men arrived on 1 March 1815. It moves into the southernmost part of the Alps on a zig-zaggy and seemingly directionless course that perhaps reflects Napoleon’s desire to avoid confrontation with troops loyal to King Louis XVIII.

The first several miles are largely skippable, rolling through urban and suburban landscapes with patience-testing speed limits (20kph at some points – that’s 12mph). Although, it is a setting that provides strong evidence that Ducati either doesn’t know or doesn’t care what a cruiser is. For the sake of avoiding muddling ourselves, let’s collectively agree that cruisers, and the qualities and characteristics of cruisers, are good. You don’t have to believe that, but many people do. And if you are going to sell ‘a Ducati creation for cruiser lovers’ (their words), it makes sense to expect the XDiavel V4 to possess some or all of the qualities and characteristics that make cruisers good. Like the ability to rumble _smoothly_ and _easily_ through urban and suburban landscapes at low speed.

This is not the XDiavel V4. This bike hates going slow. It hates you for making it go slow. Shuddering and convulsing through rush-hour traffic in Grasse, I am convinced that at any point profanities are going to pop up on the bike’s 6.9in TFT screen, cursing me for lack of pace. Rarely have I encountered a motorcycle so ill-suited to cruising.

**» 2015** Ducati had launched the Diavel in 2011, a hypernaked-cruiser thing with a swollen V-twin and caricature looks. Yet despite its huge rear tyre, the Diavel handled – editor Armitage recalls being on a GSX-R and being thrashed by one (admittedly ridden by James Haydon). Four years later, Ducati show the new XDiavel at EICMA. Driven by a 1262cc Testastretta DVT V-twin engine, it’s a more foot-forward and cruiser-like variant promising ‘low-speed excitement’. A mood board showing inspiration for the bike contains no cruisers.

**» 2016** XDiavel arrives. In our September 2016 issue, Armitage describes it thus: ‘Overwhelming engine output and a track-ready chassis while in the body position of an arse-dragging water-skier.’ An S version is soon revealed, promising a handful of blingy upgrades.

**» 2018** The XDiavel receives a suspension upgrade, improving the experience for rider and passenger – but stays a surprisingly sporty proposition. The pricier S version is offered in some fancy new colours.

**» 2021** Ducati unveil the XDiavel Dark and XDiavel Black Star. Apart from minor changes brought on by Euro5 regs, the overall experience is unchanged from previous versions. ‘In truth, the new found horses aren’t noticed,’ muses Armitage (May 2021 issue).

**» 2022** The line-up now consists of the XDiavel Dark, XDiavel S, and XDiavel Nera. The latter is limited to 500 units. In terms of differences from previous versions, the second verse is (pretty much) the same as the first. The XDiavel remains a device unlike anything else.

**» 2025** XDiavel V4 launches. Belt final drive has been replaced by a chain, and rather more significantly the V-twin has been replaced by the ‘MotoGP derived’ V4 Granturismo engine. More tech and less weight than previous generations. Still not a cruiser.

When I have, it’s often been a Ducati. This bike’s powerplant is very Ducati: raw, aggressive, eager to pick a fight. And, obviously, the issue isn't actually low speed, it’s revs. The engine doesn’t want to get out of bed for anything less than 4500rpm. Fortunately, it doesn’t have to wait long. Immediately outside Grasse there is a steep hairpin turn. The bike’s un-cruiser-like suspension handles it without effort, and we are off, screaming skyward on roads with vistas that inspire jealousy – why can’t I live here?

Other testers have observed that it ‘goes like stink’. They’re not wrong. The XDiavel V4 is so happy when you’re on the throttle that you easily find yourself riding at a more spirited pace than intended. Meanwhile, because the bike is long and low (a bit like a cruiser), it plays tricks with your mind. I’ve ridden a lot of cruisers over the years; I’m familiar with the feel and fight of their weight through corners. Heading into a sharpish left hander, the Ducati’s physical presence mixes in my brain with my speed and I feel a surge of panic. I am convinced I have overcooked it. ‘Oh. Hell. I’ve done a wrong,’ my cruiser brain laments, observing that just beyond the curve is a cliff, nothingness, and inevitable doom.

With prayer and purpose, I throw everything into hopefully – somehow – avoiding that cliff. The bike responds by happily dancing through the corner with nimbleness and ease. So much so that I need to re-correct to ensure I stay on the right side of the road. As I power out of the corner, I realise I could have gone in so much faster. Once again: the XDiavel V4 is not a cruiser. Its suspension offers a perfect mix of smoothing out road imperfections and giving confidence in corners.

Not that you want to get too confident. There is 39° of lean angle on each side. In application, though, you have less. The feet-forward riding position means the heel of your boot naturally hangs lower than the peg. Your foot is most likely to kiss the pavement before the bike. Which is a great way to end up with a broken ankle.

For the most part, the corners of the Route Napoléon aren’t overly technical. Many of them you can roar through in fourth gear, occasionally even fifth. I love this kind of riding: engaging but not mind-melting. I’d be happy to spend all day doing this.

Unfortunately, around Escragnolles, I’m feeling uncomfortable. Ducati say the XDiavel V4’s seat is 50 per cent larger than on the previous-generation V-twin XDiavel – and the passenger accommodation is, too. Initially, the seat is comfortable and cosseting. But perhaps too much. You get locked into place. Depending on how much natural padding you bring to the bike, you can start to feel aches and pains in as little as 45 minutes. Thankfully there’s good news here as the scenery and small towns of Route Napoléon provide plenty of incentive to stop. Escragnolles, for example, has a very nice public water fountain and a large mural dedicated to hometown hero François Mireur, a 1700s general who is credited not with writing _La Marseillaise_ but being quite good at singing it.

At Castellane, a little further down the road, I detour to follow the enticingly azure-green Verdon River as it twists and turns through one of Europe’s deepest canyons, Gorges du Verdon. The river is far below me, the road seemingly hanging off the cliff at points. The beauty is other-worldly. According to the internets, people didn’t know about this place until the 1780s. I find that highly unlikely. Humans have been stomping around France for tens of thousands of years. How could they possibly have spent most of that time not spotting a massive cut in the earth that is almost half a mile deep? But maybe this is a magic place, somehow invisible to most.

That would explain why they don’t appear to care about child labour laws. At a roadside restaurant, I am served by a boy who looks to be about nine years old. He is wearing an Aston Villa top and speaks no English. He offers no menu, but I guess from looking at other diners that lunch is a three-course affair. He is probably too young to have yet formed a solid opinion about Americans, but I do my country no favours with my impatience. ‘Is there more food?’ I ask after finishing my salad.

‘No, I don’t want anything sweet. Not yet,’ I respond. ‘I want, you know, _fooooood_.’

He gives a cheery thumbs up and walks off. Almost as soon as he is out of sight it dawns on me the word he used had been ‘_suite_,’ as in ‘_tout suite_’, as in, ‘it’s on its way, don’t worry about it’.

I smack myself on the forehead and decide to do something constructive. Like stare at the XDiavel V4. It really is a sexy bike. It stands out on a showroom floor, but it is absolutely stunning here in the wild, where there’s little else like it. The bodywork wraps around its 1158cc liquid-cooled V4 Granturismo engine like shiny, expensive clay. Every curve and line is right. _C’est magnifique_. _Che bello_. I’m particularly fond of the gargantuan four-port exhaust. It looks like the cannon on a Starfighter. If environmental regulations are going to force you to have an exhaust the size of a rubbish bin, why not make it a feature?

I can see the influence of supernakeds in most of its aesthetic. Think the MV Brutale 1000 RR, or the aggressiveness of the KTM 1390 Super Duke, but with softer lines. Ducati probably weren’t thinking this, but I also see a nod to American homemade performance culture in the wide rear tyre. It makes me think of Busas and Gixers with extended swingarms and underglow lighting, tearing up the street in impromptu drag races on a summer night. Or, maybe Ducati _are_ going for that look. The XDiavel V4’s tail lighting has the look of an underglow strip. Whatever the case, outside of the engine, the styling is more ‘improved’ than ‘new’. The XDiavel name has been around since 2016 and what you see here isn’t unrecognisable from what Ducati produced almost a decade ago. Those previous versions didn’t look like cruisers, either.

It’s pretty, but it’s not perfect (and not just because head-on it looks, to me, a bit like a scooter). Like every Ducati, it needs to spend time warming up if you want to avoid stalling. Water pools in the seat even in light rain. The massive air filter is mostly exposed, making it susceptible to bugs, rocks, and wet weather. The oil filter is so deftly hidden that you will almost certainly need to pay someone to find it. And heated grips do not come standard on this £25,995 motorcycle.

For the most part, though, this bike’s biggest problem is its marketing. It doesn’t look like a cruiser, doesn’t handle like a cruiser, and doesn’t cruise like a cruiser. If you want a cruiser, you will almost certainly hate this motorcycle. I can’t help feeling that it exists only because someone, somewhere, observed how much cruiser riders are willing to spend and thought Ducati could cash in by offering a single concession (riding position) to a segment of riders. That’s cynical and almost insulting.

When you ride the bike, however, it’s easy to forgive. Whatever the hell the XDiavel V4 actually is, it’s definitely fun. Especially on roads like this. To that end, I wonder how much use this bike would get in the UK. You need the drier weather of south-east England and the open roads of Wales or Scotland without the challenge of travelling between them. I suppose if this bike tickles your fancy, you’ll find a way to make it work.

Further up Route Napoléon, Laffrey is home to one of the most famous moments in Napoleon’s return: when he stared down the army that had been sent to stop him. ‘Soldiers of the Fifth regiment, do you recognise me?’ asks Joaquin Phoenix’s Bonaparte in the 2023 film _Napoleon_. ‘I miss you. I’m melancholy for my home… I want to come home.’

History suggests he only said the first part of that quote. But the latter part is a sentiment I can relate to. With aching back and hips, I am melancholy for the hotel bar.

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Ducati’s new **Streetfighter V2 S** has a smaller engine with less power and torque, but also less weight and a lower price than its predecessor. Does this make it the ideal Ducati road bike? Simon H finds out by racking up 250 Sunday miles

By **Simon Hargreaves** Photography **Jason Critchell**

Enough visual ‘grr’ to go with the name? Yes

**H**ot Bolognese sauce, what manner of ungainly contrariness is this? The cold-blooded red Ducati lumbers, kicks, chunters and confounds in equal measure as we thonk our first tentative yards across corrugated town streets chiselled into a Desperate Dan jawline of stubbly bumps.

The Streetfighter’s bars are spread so wide it’s like steering a floorboard. The thin, hard seat tests the measure of my inside leg – and I’m a six-footer; I’ve ridden ’crossers with less lank. But few with less weight – the Ducati doesn’t connect with the road so much as stutter an inch above it. And the suspension might say Öhlins, but it’s surely named after the Norse god of granite…

In the early chill, I also appreciate the motor’s warmth flooding up when the fan kicks in – although imagine in central London in midsummer it’ll still be too toasty. The ’Fighter may be all-new, but some things never change.

The words of editor Mike ring in my ears between the V-twin’s combustion strokes: ‘Everyone says the new Streetfighter is a better, more civilised road bike than its predecessor…’. Really? Who is ‘everyone’, and why aren’t they locked up? Mind you, I’ve ridden the previous Streetfighter V2, and that wasn’t an armchair at a picnic, so maybe it’s about perspective. Thus, with the spangly new Ducati safely garaged and ground anchored for the night, I plot a 250-mile route for our Sunday ride, make careful note of fuel availability to manage its dainty 15-litre tank, and hope it gets better from here – and, mostly, it definitely does.

Don’t be fooled by the smaller motor. It’s perky –and eggs you on

Sunday dawns with wall-to-wall sunshine, prolonging an unusually clement spring and putting everyone in a better mood. Right, let’s reset and try the new Streetfighter V2 again. Plan is to dive into the Lincolnshire Wolds, arcing north to the Humber Bridge, then curl back south again making a long, 250-mile loop. I’ve ridden these roads for 30 years on a lot of different bikes, and still reckon the cocktail of bends, changes of topography and – in most places – quality of tarmac are among the best in the UK for digging into engine and chassis behaviour. Pretty scenery too, and an unhealthy selection of cafés to slake a rider’s thirst and fill the aching void where a sausage bap should be, with a wealth of secluded stops to pause and reflect on the unadulterated joy of riding.

The Ducati throbs through Boston, levering between lines of toking builder’s vans, its bar ends strategically placed at average family saloon wing mirror height (they’re an inexplicable 30mm wider than previously). At low revs, as we trickle along fanning the clutch lever, I can distinctly feel the Streetfighter’s array of engine management electronics beavering away to keep the motor from stalling or hesitating – engine revs rise and fall according to lever position, constantly chipping in to smooth out and help balance gearbox, throttle position and slipping plates. I appreciate Ducati’s mission to civilise and harmonise their bikes, even the Streetfighty ones – remember when their Vs were aggravatingly clunky, with transmission backlash chattering the rider’s teeth as much as thems on the rear sprocket? Those days are long gone; every Ducati generation gets smoother and less demanding, but hopefully without eroding the edginess that makes Ducati, Ducati – and nudging the Streetfighter around town is easy street (besides the unexpected weight of the clutch lever).

It’s much better here than the old ’un, but the V2 still prefers open roads

Clearing out from the town’s snarl, we hoof into countryside across the flatlands, past the Carrington Steam Rally – resist traction engine gag – which is where the Ducati’s V-twin perks up. The 890cc V-twin supplants two of their motors: the 937cc Testastretta from the Multistrada V2 (and, logically, likely in the Monster, SuperSport, Hypermotard and DesertX), and replaces the 955cc Superquadro from the previous Streetfighter V2 and Panigale V2. It’s a lot of ground to cover for one motor, but Ducati say the engine is ‘only’ 890cc because it puts a bit of performance space between it and the V4s.

Ducati’s first Streetfighter was launched in 2009, with a barely apologetic 155bhp 1098cc engine – a mere 5bhp less than the sportsbike – and came across as the Monster’s unreconstructed, forehead-dragging, bare-knuckle cousin. Wearing nowt but a perma frown, it was like riding a fist fight. In contrast, the 132bhp 848-powered Streetfighter two years later was a delight – from the launch, in _Bike_, I wrote: ‘The 848 is such an obviously ideal blend of performance and nudity even top-speed meatheads such as I can see the point. It’s the smoothest, softest Ducati I’ve ridden.’ Nevertheless, it wasn’t a massive hit and canned in 2015.

But the Streetfighter idea wasn’t, and in 2020 the Streetfighter V4 was born using an almost full-blown Panigale V4 engine – followed, two years later, by the ‘milder’ Streetfighter V2, with a paltry 150bhp 955cc Superquadro motor from the Panigale V2. Bearing in mind it had almost as much performance as the original big-bore Streetfighter, the old V2 was still a bit of a handful.

The new bike, as we start to climb into the Wolds towards Horncastle, is not. Its variable-valved 118bhp motor, liberated from desmodromic valve gear and the burden of unusable performance, is refreshingly light-hearted and revvy, balancing a surging bottom end with a potent-but-far-from-insignificant top end. It’s a better and more satisfying match for British roads and, I suspect, riders too. A model losing nearly 30bhp over its predecessor ought to be headline news in a bad way – but we all know it doesn’t matter when push comes to shove in a modern riding environment. These days, engine size is a matter of taste, not status.

With sap well and truly risen, the Streetfighter pings from apex to apex like a pinball wizard, and with joyful exuberance rather than an overcommitted grimace. And it’s incredibly flexible – from 2000rpm to flat out, the most linear power delivery ever from a V-twin Ducati pours out a constant flow of drive. At one point, pulling away from a junction, it picks up from walking pace in fourth gear. It’s like a twist and go – at 70mph in top the engine is pulling about 4800rpm; its on-cam sweet spot is a worryingly relaxed 90mph. It’s a deceptively fast motor. So praise the lord for newly installed cruise control to prevent average speed camera transgressions (shamefully, although the bike comes fitted with the necessary switchgear, there’s a £244.73 surcharge to activate it).

The new engine is also very vocal – the airbox induction warble has more than a hint of Tuvan throat singer about it; a mix of low-register bass and higher harmonics. It’s not the booming Bologna soundtrack of old but addictive in its own way, and encourages opening the throttle as wide and often as possible. Be a shame not to heed the call.

18kg loss is noticeable on both back roads and joints

A quick breather toddling through Horncastle, then we head for the jewel of the Wolds – Cadwell Park circuit, up the road the other side of Scamblesby. The Streetfighter bullets through the folds in the landscape, revelling in the grip from its Pirelli Rosso IVs. Last night, podging around for the first time on the bike, they felt remote and unyielding; today, with some heat in them, the tyres come to life and work with the Öhlins springs, not in spite of them.

There’s a classic race car meeting on at Cadwell, so we avail ourselves of the canteen for a late breakfast and bone-up on the rest of the Streetfighter V2’s changes. It’s much as per the new Panigale V2 – an aluminium monocoque frame doubles as the airbox and is indeed mostly composed of air. Similarly, a sparse subframe is bolted onto the back of the rear cylinder head, and the hollow double-sided swingarm contorts itself between pivot and spindle like an athlete’s ruptured cruciate ligament. With the bodywork off, it’s hard to work out why the bike doesn’t fold up and collapse on itself.

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