Multistrada 1200 S (MY2010)

The brakes are a match for everything the engine hands them. On long alpine descents, scrubbing off real speed corner after corner, the stopping power stays strong and consistent instead of fading as the miles stack up. What I value most is the bite from the very first pull of the lever. The confidence is there straight away, so I can lean on them hard into a steep downhill hairpin without a moment spent wondering whether they'll still be there at the bottom.

The front end is the whole story here. Through open alpine corners it feeds me enough information to trail-brake deep with real confidence, committing to a fast bend without a flicker of vagueness. Load it with a passenger and bags and the suspension still holds reserve in hand, staying composed through quick sweepers rather than going soft and undefined. It also changes direction with less muscle than a machine this size has any right to ask for, and that ease is what keeps a long day of switchbacks from wearing me down.

What stays with me is how sorted the torque delivery is once you're into the revs. The electronics smooth it all into a clean, linear pull with no hit and no surge, nothing that asks you to manage it. Down low it's a different story. Below a certain point the throttle goes rough and unwilling, an irritation in slow corners and city traffic that clears the moment you pick up the pace. Highest in the mountains the drive stays thick where thin air usually saps a big twin, and that reserve out of a slow summit hairpin is where it leaves most of the class behind.

This is where the bike flatly refuses one label. The modes aren't cosmetic. One tightens the throttle and firms the whole machine into something close to a stripped sportbike, another relaxes it into an easy urban tool, and the swing between them is large and immediate. That breadth is why it reads two ways at once. Bring a sportbike habit and it feels like a touring machine with superbike legs. Bring a big adventure bike and it's the most athletic thing in the class. Both of those reads are accurate.

Comfort here is more about control than plushness. The clutch is the pleasant shock. For all the torque sitting behind it, the lever is light and easy to feather, so slow maneuvering never demands a firm grip or careful technique. The gearbox is the offsetting flaw. Every change lands with a mechanical notch that stands out, a small reminder that this powertrain wasn't drawn up for all-day ease. It works fine, but you feel that notchiness each time you swap gears, and it never quite disappears.

The practical catch sits at the back. The tail is cut too narrow for strap-on or soft bags to seat securely, so anything you try to improvise ends up fighting the shape of the motorcycle instead of riding along with it. In practice that steers you straight to the factory hard cases, and trying to save money by working around them just costs you a clean fit and peace of mind. Treat the luggage as part of the buying decision, not something you sort out later.

For an engine that pulls this hard uphill, the fuel economy genuinely caught me off guard. It drinks less than the performance would ever suggest, and a full tank stretches across a serious day in the mountains without a fuel stop dictating your route. That kind of range is what lets you actually spend the pace on offer instead of riding cautious and nursing the bike from one station to the next. On a machine this quick, I didn't expect to think about fuel as little as I did.