There’s no way I would actually buy this motorcycle. I mean, imagine if you encountered a case that was labelled: “THIS BOX IS FULL OF LIVE RATTLESNAKES.” I’m not touching that. I have a similar emotional reaction to the idea of working on a Ducati – especially one with the infamous desmo valves.
But, man, it’s pretty. I mean, really, really, really pretty. And I’m willing to bet that once you come to terms with its many foibles (or, what Ducatisti would refer to as ‘character’) it would be a whole lot of fun to ride. For short periods. In very specific conditions. Maybe.
Possibly as a result of doing work for Bike-urious (Abhi likes sportbikes), I find myself thinking about sportbikes a lot these days. I feel my aversion to them softening. Not so much, though, that I would ever consider owning one of these unless I won stupid amounts of money in the lottery. I’m talking about so much money that I would be the sort of person who throws big donations at political candidates. So much money that I have multiple homes. So much money that I buy art.
Which, ultimately is probably what this would be. I probably wouldn’t ride it. I’d have it mounted to the wall in my living room.
What the ad says
“Stunning original condition red Ducati 750SS. One of the last 1998 carburettor models. Excellent paintwork, including engine paint which normally flakes. Just had new Atom AGM battery, oil/filters/plugs and belts and passed MOT without issue. It really deserves to be in a collection as it has not been messed around with, maintains its original air box, etc, and is not covered in aftermarket parts/stickers. Comes with original tool kit, service books/paperwork and both keys (one with leather Ducati fob). Tank is clean inside as is the rest of the underside of tank/corners (the normal areas to show corrosion) and the frame underneath (see pictures)… This is a 27-year-old bike (age-related condition) and has a small paint chip (touched in) on the tank and slight mark on the exhaust, otherwise I’d classify it as A1. I’ll be sad to see it go, but the riding position doesn’t suit me anymore. No offers.. I’m not open to swaps/part exchanges. No test pilots, thank you. Sold as seen.“
The seller sneakily covers up the bike’s registration plate, so I’m unable to check its DVLA status or MOT history, but just from the pictures and the ad description it seems to have been well looked after. That doesn’t mean there wouldn’t be problems – this is a Ducati from the 1990s that we’re talking about – but I wouldn’t anticipate that those problems could be squarely blamed on the current owner.
What is it?
Italian manufacturers have a long history of using questionable terminology. Moto Guzzi, for example, used to refer to its Griso SE motorcycle as “The Black Devil.” That sort of sets off alarms in the “woke” side of my brain. They also refer to their headquarters as “the eagle’s nest,” which is the same phrase that Hitler used for his Kehlsteinhaus mountain retreat in southern Germany.
Meanwhile, shortening the name of your Supersport motorcycle to give it a name that inspires thoughts of one of the most notorious paramilitary organizations in history is not the sort of thing that I would have done, but Ducati be Ducati.
Anyhoo, the first Supersport model appeared in 1972 and ran until 1981. The name was revived in 1988 and shortened to SS, perhaps to avoid confusion with previous Supersport models. This range lasted until 2002. The name was resurrected again from 2017-2022 for a bike that I actually quite liked, despite describing it as “small and disappointing” when I first got a chance to ride it at a tire launch in 2018.
But I digress. Refocusing on the bike at hand, this 1998 750SS is driven by an air-cooled 748cc L-twin with those notorious desmo valves. Claimed peak power outputs are 66 horsepower at 8,500 rpm and 53.1 lb-ft of torque at 6,500 rpm. Those numbers aren’t terribly impressive for a sportbike in the ’90s, but the Supersport was aimed at a different sort of rider.
“Ducati’s decision to drop an ageing two valve motor into an even more ageing frame design was a little strange,” observes a BikeSocial retrospective buyer’s guide. “But back then, Ducati were a little strange.”
They were also a little unreliable. The Supersport of the ’90s suffered from a regulator-rectifier that was prone to being fried by rain water, and ignition coils that liked to break. Beyond that it was, according to MCN, “vibey at low revs, [and had] rock hard (non-adjustable) front suspension, a painful seat and a whole load of false neutrals.”
But when everything was going right the Supersport had “a soulful, torquey, charismatic power delivery,” according to BikeSocial. And it is, undeniably, gorgeous.
Is it better than my current motorcycle?
This is a real apples-and-oranges situation: comparing a sexy but fussy sportbike to an ugly but reliable adventure-rounder. Aesthetically, yes, a 1998 750SS easily outguns a 2012 Kawasaki Versys 1000. I realize that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but anyone who disagrees with that statement is not right. Don’t let them near any sharp objects or flammable materials.
Not having ridden a 750SS, I can’t say for sure, but I’m willing to bet that, despite having less horsepower and torque than the Kawasaki, the Ducati is more thrilling to ride. Though, don’t discount the walloping oomph of the Versys 1000’s punchy 1034cc inline four.
Meanwhile, in all practical aspects, the Kawasaki’s the winner. It has more tech. It’s more comfortable and practical. Parts are cheaper and easier to find. And despite the fact that Bike Social says the 750SS is easy to work on, I’m willing to bet doing so on the Kawasaki is less stressful. Break a chunk of fairing on that thing and you probably won’t even lift an eyebrow. I mean, hell, it’s not like a bunch of epoxy is going to make it look worse.
Should I buy this one?
If I were going to buy a 750SS, I suppose it would be this one. The owner has clearly treated it with love and respect. In a part of their ad that I removed to save space, they said that if they don’t get their asking price for this bike they’ll just put it into storage. It’s such a beautiful machine that they wouldn’t be sad to be ‘stuck’ with it. That’s an endorsement.
But, as I said at the start, there’s no way I would actually buy this motorcycle. Ducatis are famously persnickety and un-fun to work on, and much of how it performs and handles runs against the lazy, comfy kind of motorcycling I generally prefer.
If my neighbor had this bike I would drool at it often, but I would never once covet it.
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