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Ducati Monster The Monster comes into its own on open roads Lack of bells and whistles mean the Monster is all about pure fun Right first time IT’S BEEN SAID before but a sure sign of a classic is when it still seems fresh, modern and pure many, many years after its launch. The Monster 900 in front of me is 22 years old, but ‘old school’ Ducati logo aside (which I must admit I’ve always preferred) it could easily be less than a quarter of that. We’re spoilt, admittedly. Not only is this a very early, first-year example of Ducati’s game-changer (the giveaways being the yellow suspension strut, non-chamfered exhaust cans – the one on the right here is from a later model – and choke knob mounted between the frame tubes on the left-hand side), it’s also original – right down to the handlebar grips. Despite 17,000-odd miles, it’s near-as-dammit immaculate. It’s enough to evoke rich memories of my inaugural ride aboard the first Monster into the UK in 1993. Back then Ducati was a very different concern. The Monster wasn’t launched, as it would be today, in a blaze of fancy press junkets and glossy media campaigns. Instead, my example was borrowed from then-British importer Moto Cinelli and their quaint premises on a backstreet in Northampton, and taken to nearby Bruntingthorpe Aerodrome so I could do some wheelie pictures. We even borrowed a matching red jacket from Cinelli’s Malcolm Wheeler. How times have changed. The bike, however, hasn’t changed one bit. The Monster is a classic lesson is minimalism. Adhering to designer Miguel Galluzzi’s thesis of having a ‘saddle, engine, two wheels’ and not a lot else, the Monster has what it needs – and nothing more. The air-cooled V-twin is about as simple as it gets, while Ducati’s signature trellis frame is all on show. Even the clocks – just a speedo and a grid of idiots – are the bare minimum. There’s no excess. But if all that sounds extreme, the ride is far less than you might expect. On board it’s upright, natural and comfortable, with a slight flavour of sporting aggression. The view forward to those minimal instruments and over that single headlamp, while grasping those simple tubular ’bars with the barest smattering of switchgear on either side, is as pure as can be. Despite the Monster name, the red Ducati is effortlessly light and slim (although the bulbous tank disguises it somewhat) and, yes, the 888-derived chassis means it’s stubby and short, too. But my ageing, oversize 6ft 3in bulk was comfy enough, even though I probably looked like a gorilla on a BMX. Nor are the Monster’s manners as crude and uncompromising as legend (or that name) suggests. The clutch is lighter and the throttle crisper than I remember, gears snicking home neatly. Sure, low down (and I’m not quite sure exactly how low down – there’s no tacho, remember?), the Bologna V-twin is as rough and clattery as a box of spanners. It’s a crescendo heightened by the chiming of the dry clutch, and out of the car park the drivetrain lurches and graunches as if straining at the leash. But they all do that. Once you’re out onto the open road, winding the wires of the twin Mikunis, sped up with a dab of clutch and fed gears as quickly as you like, you’re rewarded with a rhum-baaaaa that only a Ducati can deliver, and the Monster’s irresistible zest for fun and thrills. That’s when you remember why the Monster’s just so damn good. It doesn’t matter whether you’re squirting through the gridlock, blasting out of town, or tucking down and gearing up to thrash through the countryside, the Monster revels in it all. The sharp steering is light, bordering 67
Still a great ride after 22 years on frisky, but that serves to make it more engaging. The ride, through the sports Showa forks and Boge rising rate rear, is smooth and firm without being harsh. The sports parentage definitely shines through. But it’s also comfortable, upright and nimble, with the power delivery flexible, fun and enough without being at all overpowering or imposing. Rarely has something so ‘right’ come from such a varied recipe. The Monster diced through city traffic, cruised comfortably around ring roads and “The original Monster is one of those rare, rightfirst-time bikes” was a sharp, entertaining hoot down the twisties. It looked good, sounded great and wanted for nothing. Every time I stopped and soaked it up one more time I spotted extra delightful details (those innovative-at-thetime carbon side panels are gorgeous, as is the seat cover). It’s easy to fall in lust with the original Monster. And yet while the Italian firm may have got so much right with its new roadster, the Monster still has its fair share of old school Ducati foibles. The sidestand, for instance, although not the dreaded ‘springy’ type typical of Ducatis of this era, is more than a little awkward to dig out from under the footpeg. The amount of steering lock available is so restricted it can make town centre manoeuvring or parking spacewiggling a heart-in-mouth affair. Elsewhere, those big Brembos up front (ours also benefitted from some HEL braided lines) were as dull to the lever as I recalled, despite their power. And though the minimalism appeals and the Monster genuinely wants for little (its suspension, brakes and so on are all classy), it’s also just a little bit basic. The forks are non-adjustable, the clocks are a bit sparse – but now I’m stretching it. The Monster isn’t that basic, really. That comment was best reserved for the Dark versions that were to come out later. Instead, the original Monster is pretty much one of those rare, right-first-time machines – and that’s what impressed me most. It gels together brilliantly, is handsome and classy, impressively accessible and versatile and, more than anything else, just damn good fun. And all that with a Ducati badge, a tempting price tag and Italian exotica appeal? No wonder it was a huge hit and survived so long. I’m still tempted myself. Find a good one before prices climb too high (as they surely will) and you’ll have all that and an appreciating classic, too. Thanks to Paul Lang from Swindon DIMENSIONS & SPECIFICATIONS Overall height 1170mm (46.1in) Fuel capacity 16.5litres (4.4gal) Seat height 770mm (30.3in) Rake angle 23° 68 Ground clearance 150mm (5.9in) Wheelbase 1430mm (56.3in) Overall length 2030mm (79.9in) Dry weight 184kg (405lbs) Overal width 750mm (29.5in) Specification | 1993 Ducati M900 Monster ENGINE Type air-cooled, Desmodromic, 12v, 90° V-twin Capacity 904cc Bore x stroke 92 x 68mm Compression ratio 9.2:1 Ignition CDI Carburation 2 x 38mm Mikuni CV TRANSMISSION Primary/final drive gear/chain Clutch wet, multiplate Gearbox 6-speed CHASSIS Frame tubular steel trellis Front suspension 41mm inverted telescopic forks, non-adjustable Rear suspension rising rate monoshock, preload adjustable Front brake 2 x 320mm discs, 4-piston calipers Rear brake 1 x 220mm disc, twin-piston caliper Wheels 3-spoke cast aluminium Front tyre 120/70 ZR17 Rear tyre 170/60 ZR17 PERFORMANCE Top speed 125mph Power 73bhp@7000rpm Torque 59lb.ft@6000rpm Fuel consumption 39mpg Price new £7500
Page 1 and 2: SUZUKI GSX-R1000 ABS STILL GOT IT W
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Page 5 and 6: SUZUKI GSX-R1000 ABS Showa big-pist
Page 7 and 8: DUCATI M900 MONSTER Damn-near perfe
Page 9 and 10: Mission accomplished FOR A machine
Page 11 and 12: What to look out for Finish Crucial
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Page 17 and 18: You don’t need a track bike for a
Page 19: 7 Sort the suspension Make sure you

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