Friendly ’Fighter
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
Hot 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
Urban surfing
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
Less is more
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
Frisky business
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.
This is the £15,990 S model, which swaps the £13,990 standard bike’s Marzocchi forks and Kayaba shock for the aforementioned Öhlins, and adds launch control and a pit lane limiter. There isn’t a pit lane at Cadwell, let alone on the B1225, so we finish up, depart the circuit and ride back across the Wolds onto the Caistor High Road. The Streetfighter flits along rural lanes, frisking about with a new lightness of being. It only weighs a claimed 175kg – 18kg less than the previous V2 – and it feels flyweight. On the one hand it’s hyper agile and eager to turn (and easy to push around); on the other, not all mass is bad when you want to damp out bump forces. The Streetfighter demolishes smooth corners, but bumpy stuff has it over-reacting like a hammy actor. Okay, okay, calm down!
We stop for a gurgle of unleaded because the gauge is showing one bar left after 115 miles – consumption is low-40s mpg, but on 15 litres to empty that means filling up at around 120 miles. I sometimes wonder if half the reason manufacturers are obsessed with making fuel tanks smaller is because it’s an easy way to shave a few kilos off the spec sheet.
Scampering away from Scamblesby and feeling very fine
Garage wood
Caistor dispatched, we bomb up a side road to get to the Humber Bridge and a date with lunch at the Viking Way Café Bar – a fab biker-friendly coffee stop and fooderie on the riverfront just under the bridge at Barton-upon-Humber. Basking in the sunshine, I take a moment to examine the Streetfighter up close. It looks horny and hand-made; the level of detailing and finishing is a work of design and materials art. The swingarm is extraordinary, but the overall effect is made by details like the section of steel brake pipe
from the rear caliper, the gorgeous shock mountings, and the exhaust plumbing that culminates in stubby twin cans with mesh baffles. It’s exceptional; perfectly manicured and hard to believe it’s mass-produced.
Dinner downed, we hitch our skirts and head back south, picking up the road to Market Rasen, flowing fast and free. By now we’re slicing up the legendary bends back through Wragby and Bardney – you can’t live in Lincs and not know them intimately. The Ducati eats it up, spunting from corner to corner in a welter of revs and flappery frolics. It’s fun and fast, but I’m not convinced it’s necessarily as fluid as I’d like. The motor hums and thrums contentedly – but after a few hours in the seat the I’ve decided the aggro riding position – bum up, knees almost touching, wide bars, forward-canted torso – is, like the rest of bike, an acquired taste. It aggravates my tendonitis and my right hand has gone numb – blame a life in the saddle if you wish, but an MT-09 and Street Triple don’t have the same effect. It ain’t natural human ergonomics.
Makes light work of stuff like this. But you still need to put the effort in
Ooh, look at this…
1 Exhaust cans are gorgeously groovy; no other manufacturer takes end cans as seriously as this. Even the welds look like someone cares.
2 Beautifully finished, sparse, organic, hollow cast aluminium swingarm is double-sided for the first time on a Streetfighter. It looks factory.
3 Öhlins shock looks like it’s rising rate but it’s actually cantilevered – a one-to-one ratio with the swingarm. But that alloy casting is pure horn.
4 Small TFT display isn’t overloaded with info, but a six-axis IMU lends a deep dive of traction control, anti-wheelie and engine braking settings.
5 Single seat as standard has room for a fat wallet (unbelievably, pillion peg conversion is a £323.14 extra – what genius thought that up?).
Perfect for garage-based dreams of machine-gunning your neighbours
Single-sider? Meh. This new swinger is sculpted alloy loveliness
S gets Öhlins. Urge to stick fingers in is considerable
Colour and data. Anyone else miss a white Veglia?
Be easier if it wasn’t stuffed with so many fifties
Verdict
As the sun sets and we wend our way back home, the Streetfighter has me conflicted. I love its looks, design quality, ridiculous bespokery of components and finishing – if my bike life consisted of sitting in the garage admiring the machining, then riding to bike meets to have conversations about it, I’d take the Streetfighter all day. It makes an MT-09 look like an explosion in a parts factory. And the motor is the most flexible, forgiving Ducati Vee yet.
But as a cumulative riding experience – a bike to enjoy on the way to the meet, to bend a few back lanes, have a laugh, live it up a bit with an insouciant gallivant when plod are looking the other way – it still requires the rider to bend to it; literally. You have to meet the bike halfway; it’s not an instant fit.
The Streetfighter V2 S may be another step on Ducati’s path to civility, but it still makes demands of the rider to get there.
‘Another step on Ducati’s path to civility, but still makes demands of the rider to get there’
They’ve got the stop-and-gawp -at-it bit nailed to perfection