The entire mountain route was buried in dense fog, with incessant rain making visibility even worse. Yet somehow, it looked beautiful against Tamhini’s lush green landscape. On any other day, I would have taken it slow, found somewhere quiet and watched the rain with a coffee, but I wasn’t on just any motorcycle. I was on a Ducati Multistrada V4 Pikes Peak, a name that suggested a rather different approach to the morning.
The irony wasn’t lost on me. The Pikes Peak is the most road-focussed version of the Multistrada V4 sold in India, and Ducati has made that clear. A 17-inch front wheel wrapped in Pirelli Diablo Rosso IVs, a single-sided swingarm and gorgeous Marchesini forged wheels tell you this Multi isn’t particularly interested in finding the nearest trail; it wants corners.
Tamhini has plenty of those, but the tarmac was glistening wet. Moss crept in from the edges, streams crossed the road and some sections had only recently reopened after landslides. None of it was ideal for a motorcycle wearing sticky road tyres. I hadn’t brought the Pikes Peak here to take the easy route, though. I had ridden the Multistrada V4 S and V4 Rally before, so climbing onto the Pikes Peak felt familiar, but the differences were obvious. The handlebar sits closer, the footpegs are higher and the riding position feels more purposeful. Those small changes make a 227 kg motorcycle feel surprisingly manageable, particularly when the road starts folding back on itself.
I thumbed the starter and the Akrapovič barked into life, its sound disappearing into the fog. As we climbed higher, the LED headlights carved a narrow path through the mist. Beneath me was Ducati’s 1,158cc Granturismo V4, with a whole suite of electronics keeping an eye on proceedings. I eased off the throttle, tipped into the first corner and was instantly surprised by how quickly the Pikes Peak changed direction. The 17-inch front wheel makes it feel more like a street motorcycle than a big adventure bike. Point it at a corner and it simply goes there; there’s no wrestling with the handlebar or waiting for the front to settle. Once I discovered that, there was very little reason to slow down.
Rain, obviously, was one reason; I wasn’t about to turn a beautiful morning in Tamhini into an expensive memory. The Diablo Rosso IVs never felt as though they were about to surrender, but the downpour meant I had no intention of finding their limits. On one of the few dry patches, though, the Pikes Peak gave me a glimpse of what it could really do. Turn-in was immediate, the chassis stayed planted and the motorcycle changed direction with an agility that seemed completely at odds with its size. The roads were tight, technical and constantly changing, yet the Pikes Peak never felt cumbersome. The more I rode it, the less I noticed its weight.
The Öhlins suspension deserves much of the credit. Its semi-active setup can be adjusted through the riding modes, with further tailoring available depending on how you want the bike to respond. Leave it in Dynamic and the electronics continuously adjust rebound and compression according to the road and your inputs. I switched between the default Race and Comfort settings depending on what the road was throwing at me. When the tarmac opened up, Race gave the motorcycle the tautness I wanted. On broken stretches, Comfort took the edge off the surface and made the big Ducati more agreeable.
The road into Tamhini also reminded me that this remains a very particular kind of Multistrada. In its softest setting it coped surprisingly well, but 170 mm of travel at either end can only do so much. The 17-inch wheels and road tyres weren’t begging for potholes and mud, and neither were those beautiful forged Marchesinis. So I slowed down. It was probably the first time the Pikes Peak reminded me that it wasn’t trying to be every motorcycle.
Then the road opened again. The Brembo Stylema brakes up front are another clue about Ducati’s intentions. They are serious sportsbike hardware and feel every bit of it. No matter how quickly the road disappears towards you, the Pikes Peak sheds speed with ease. More impressive is how composed everything else remains while doing so; the chassis stays settled, the tyres remain predictable and the electronics work quietly in the background.
The V4 Granturismo is an entertainer. Even in the lower power modes, where output is capped at 115 bhp, it never feels neutered. There’s still enough shove to make every gap in traffic, every straight between corners and every climb up the mountain interesting. Race mode is exclusive to the Pikes Peak, and it completely changes the motorcycle’s personality. The Akrapovič gets angrier, the throttle response sharpens and, beyond 6,000rpm, the V4 stops behaving like a very fast adventure motorcycle and becomes something considerably more unhinged.
The electronics can be dialled down, too. With traction control, wheelie control and ABS set closer to their minimum intervention levels, I began to understand how much freedom Ducati had built into the system. A handful of throttle in the wet could get the rear moving slightly. With enough grip, the front would lift. On one occasion, the bike managed to do both almost simultaneously; it was ridiculous.
I then found a pristine stretch of tarmac. The rain had eased to a light shower and, naturally, my judgement disappeared somewhere between two corners. I decided to do a full Race-style launch. Traction control made itself known for a split second, then the front wheel lifted, the V4 kept pulling and, a few seconds later, the speedometer had crossed speeds that were thrice the permissible limit. I braked hard, slowed down and pulled over.
It was crazy how calm everything felt afterwards. There was no sense that I had asked an adventure motorcycle to perform some party trick it wasn’t equipped for. The chassis hadn’t become nervous, the brakes hadn’t felt overwhelmed and the electronics hadn’t panicked. The motorcycle had simply done it, then settled back into its rhythm as though nothing remarkable had happened.
This is what makes the Pikes Peak such a ridiculous concept. Look at it and you know it isn’t a conventional Multistrada. The Pikes Peak livery makes sure of that. The bold ‘1’ graphic connects it to Ducati’s racing DNA, while the exposed mechanical bits, carbon-fibre details and forged wheels make it look more exotic than your average adventure motorcycle. But sit on it and ride it for long enough and the contradiction becomes stranger. This is probably the most comfortable way to experience something approaching a Ducati superbike without actually riding one. The Panigale V4 and Streetfighter V4 are mind-bogglingly fast, but they demand a lot from you in return. Your wrists, back and concentration eventually pay the price.
The Pikes Peak doesn’t extract this price. You can ride it hard, cover serious distances, take a pillion and spend hours in the saddle without feeling as though you’ve merely survived the journey. There is also something satisfying about the way all of this performance is packaged. The riding position gives you enough leverage to place the bike precisely, while the electronics never feel as though they are correcting your mistakes. You remain involved, but you don’t have to fight the machine to enjoy it. That balance is difficult to get right, particularly on a motorcycle this fast.
It may be the most single-minded Multistrada I’ve ridden, but it hasn’t abandoned the idea of being a Multi. It has simply narrowed its idea of versatility. Instead of being equally comfortable everywhere, it is exceptionally good at the places most riders actually enjoy: fast, winding roads with a decent view at the end. That made Tamhini a fitting place to ride it. At dawn, the mountain had welcomed me with heavy rain and thick fog. The conditions were intimidating because there was no gentle introduction. As I climbed higher, though, the motorcycle became easier to understand.
The locals seemed to have a similar reaction. People paused as the angry-looking Ducati emerged from the mist, its Akrapovič sounding even angrier. For a place accustomed to motorcycles and cars heading towards the hills every morning, the Pikes Peak still made people stop and look. I couldn’t blame them. A 227 kg adventure bike with a 17-inch front wheel, sportsbike brakes, forged wheels, road tyres, Öhlins suspension and a 167 bhp V4 is an odd combination. It looks ready to cross continents, but behaves as though it would rather spend the afternoon hunting corners. After a morning in Tamhini, I wasn’t sure that contradiction was a problem any more.
