What is wrong with everyone? I’m pottering along without a sense of urgency, yet the entirety of highway traffic is as sluggish as straight 50-weight in an Alaskan January. I’m at a loss to explain it. Just yesterday, I was humming along these same roads at 85 mph on my own motorcycle, and traffic today is lighter than it was then.
Then I look down at the speedometer and gasp. I’m all but nudging traffic out of the way at something well above 85 mph.

I’m an hour into my first ride on Ducati’s Multistrada V4 S, and, as I’m about to learn, this is par for the course on the monstrously powerful, yet monstrously refined, Multistrada.
Let’s talk engines. Remember when the V4 was announced and Ducati loyalists quaked with fear that Bologna’s band of merry pranksters was throwing away all those years of V-twin mastery for an engine with two too many pistons?
Although I have a great fondness for 90-degree V-twins, I applauded the V4’s arrival. Why? Because Aprilia’s V4 taught me that it is, by far, the greatest engine configuration for a motorcycle.

The V4 engine is hardly new in motorcycling. Honda, maddeningly, has made some gems but has always retreated back to inline-fours. Why, I’ll never know, because its VFR alone should have been enough to confirm the concept. Smooth and sophisticated, but with a satisfyingly mechanical edge, the VFR was its generation’s finest sport-touring motorcycle.
Aprilia chose another route to its V4. The company looked directly to MotoGP, where, at the time of the RSV4’s launch, the V4 was asserting itself as the dominant engine configuration—a movement confirmed with time, as all MotoGP bikes now use V4 engines. Unsurprisingly, given Aprilia’s country of origin, its interpretation of the V4 had a more visceral edge than Honda’s.
Allied with a magical exhaust note that replicated the sound of ripping silk, the Aprilia engine built power progressively and calmly, flattering riders of any skill level. It remains the finest engine ever put into a motorcycle. And now it has competition in the Ducati V4.
Had you told me a few years ago that the Panigale sportbike-based, 1,158 cc V4 would make an ideal engine for an adventure-touring motorcycle, I’d have cocked a crooked eyebrow at you. In its early iteration, or at least the early one I rode, the Panigale V4 had a flat spot off idle followed by a massive wallop of grunt that made its near-200 hp feel like twice as much. Thrilling, yes. But confidence-destroying, too.

Thankfully, all that has been ironed out through both the engine’s maturation and its adaptation for general street use. And with the jettisoning of desmodromic valves in favor of oh-so-common valve springs, there is no need to fear valve-adjustment intervals.
Taming the engine, mind you, does not mean emasculating it, as my jaunt on the highway confirmed. Power is everywhere, in any gear and at any speed. You could sacrifice a fistful of gears from its slick-shifting six-speed gearbox and hardly compromise its performance.
Shifting that gearbox is a joy, too. As is to be expected in a range-topper like the V4 S, it is equipped with a quickshifter, a feature enthusiasts either fully embrace or dismiss outright. The best use of one satisfies both camps.
Entering a fast-flowing highway from a tight entrance ramp, a mittful of throttle and an upward snick of the shifter toe mean that, within seconds, you are entirely up to speed. The same goes for downshifting. Approaching a tight corner with a full head of steam? Tap the shifter three times, and you’re ready to go again.

But for lazy up- and downshifts, with a gentle application of throttle on those days when you are simply dawdling along back roads, use the clutch—or, if you have the timing, slacken the tension in the throttle cable and perform a clutchless upshift. Few things are as pleasant as getting to know your gearbox, especially when it is this good.
In short—well, not so short—it is an engine entirely without vices. It is sonorous, mellifluous, smooth, yet not so smooth that it seems asleep. Wildly powerful, and happily docile when that is what you request of it. It is one of motorcycling’s great engines, full stop.
Powerful engines can also come arm in arm with nuclear levels of engine heat. Despite days of 90-plus-degree temperatures, the V4 S remained tolerably cool, though a naked bike, not to mention a naked rider, would have been better equipped to deal with the stifling conditions.
This is where an adjustable windscreen is a boon. Traveling through towns, I would lower the windscreen and crack my visor, then lower my visor and raise the windscreen once I was back up to speed.
Stepping off the Multistrada V2 and onto the V4 S is a revelation. Whereas the V2 is a snug fit for the rider behind the fuel tank, with a seat that has a pronounced downward tilt, the V4 S has a spacious perch as flat as a prairie. Allied with an upright handlebar and low, forward-mounted foot pegs, the V4 S is as comfortable as standing at a drafting table, if the drafting table had a broad seat.
The seat itself, like virtually every seat on every motorcycle ever, would benefit from subtle reshaping to better suit the intricacies of the human posterior. Still, a 350-mile day was completed in relative comfort. As always, when it comes to seats, your experience may differ from mine, just as your body and mine are unlikely to be identical.

A highlight of the spacious and mostly comfortable cockpit is the windscreen—surprisingly so, since it is as low-tech as the rest of the bike is high-tech. Unlike other machines in the high end of the market that the V4 S inhabits, the windscreen is manually adjustable. This contrasts with the electrically adjustable shield on the segment’s longtime leader, BMW’s R 1300 GS.
To change the Ducati windscreen’s height, it is necessary to reach behind the screen, pinch two handles together, and pull the screen up or down. It sounds primitive, but having spent time recently on the GS, I found the V4 S screen just as effective and equally easy to use as pushing the GS’s button.
For some enthusiasts, the complexity of modern high-end motorcycles is a worry. But let’s speak a truth few wish to address: Those with the most fears are invariably those without the funds to buy a bike like this.
I know, because I can’t afford to buy a bike like the V4 S, which starts at a healthy $31,995.
But regardless of your views on advanced electronics, remember that motorcycle technology generally lags a decade behind automotive technology. Anything found on a bike today has likely been kicked around in automotive circles for some time. And if we are going all-in on electronics, regardless of our views on them, the benefits ought to greatly outweigh the potential drawbacks. On the V4 S, they do.

Let’s not forget that the issue with motorcycle electronics is more often not what the electronics do but how we interact with them. If motorcyclists did not wear gloves, did not need to keep their hands on the handlebars, and if all other road users promised to stay in their lanes—and if we were not prone to taking second-gear corners in fourth gear and sailing off into the underbrush all by ourselves—we could have a touchscreen like an iPhone, and all our problems with awkward interfaces would be over. Forever.
But that is not the motorcyclist’s reality. So each manufacturer comes up with what it thinks works best. Very few systems are intuitive, and that is the problem. If you are a potential buyer taking a 10-mile demo ride, there is no way you are going to figure everything out. I suspect very few salespeople have figured it out either, so do not look to them for clarity.

It would take me 15 minutes to explain how to raise the camper roof on my VW bus, but if you took it camping for a weekend, you would figure out how to pop it in 30 seconds. Electronics are exactly the same.
Rather than pummel you with out-of-context information about which button does what, let me tell you why electronic suspension and traction control can transform your riding.
Start at the loadout. Solo? Two-up? Two-up with luggage? By tailoring the suspension to your situation, you are never left with a potentially punishing compromise. Firm it up for the twisties and soften it for the superslab. The same goes for softening power delivery in the rain or on gravel.

Speaking of which, the V4 S handles bad roads with ease, even on inappropriate tires. That is a credit to its broad handlebar, supple suspension, and upright seating position.
The V4 S was the first motorcycle I had ridden with blind-spot indication. I had always considered the technology more of an essential accessory for distracted SUV drivers, but I came to see it as immensely useful for motorcyclists—especially after a nightmarish late-night ride home that included rain and wind warnings, along with highway construction that narrowed four lanes of traffic down to one.
Nothing, of course, should ever replace a manual shoulder check, but we humans are fallible. The discreetly glowing amber light in the upper corner of either mirror offered extra motivation to remain vigilant.
It is hard to find fault with the V4 S. It manages the near-impossible feat of combining a charismatic, powerful engine with the ability to trundle through town without complaint in a high gear.
In that way, it is much like its smaller sibling, the Multistrada V2. But whereas the V2 can appear a little too anodyne to some riders, the V4 S sacrifices none of its character to achieve its good manners. I wish the same could be said for all of us mortals.

Complaints? Aside from the seat shape, which, as noted, could better fit my posterior, there is not much I would change. Yes, it is a little thirsty. I achieved 35 mpg during aggressive solo riding, for a range of about 200 miles, but that is the price of 170 claimed horsepower.
And if you are unfamiliar with large ADV bikes, the lowest stock seat-height setting is 33.1-inch. I raised it to the 33.9-inch setting, which may, or may not, make friends with your inseam. Combined with a claimed no-fuel weight of 505 lb, it is a tall bike with presence.
Ducati’s multiroad Multistrada has, since its introduction 23 years ago, grown from an oddball novelty into a mainstay of the lineup. From a quirky-looking air-cooled V-twin to a more substantial and far more powerful V-twin, and now to an even more powerful V4, the Multistrada is a concept in maturation.

It is everything without compromise: plush and fast, with roadholding in the finest Italian tradition. And now that its fiddly desmodromic valvetrain has been jettisoned in favor of conventional valve springs, there is no need to fall into convulsions over upcoming service intervals.
The only real hindrance to Multistrada V4 S ownership is the price of entry. But if your funds are fulsome, I do not think anyone would consider its purchase anything other than money well spent.