Ducati's ST4 Sports-Tourer; Making the best of a good job (NickW)

From DucatiWiki

Ducati’s ST4 Sports-Tourer

Making the best of a good job.
Nick Woods

The original article is also available here in pdf format: Media:Ducati's_ST4_Sports-Tourer.pdf

If it wasn’t for the Sports-Tourers, I don’t think I could have found a bike in Ducati’s modern range that I could live with. Their full-on Sports machines are very desirable and fast, but they call for a road-warrior mindset that is not my style. Even the less sports-focussed Monster and Multistrada seem to require a certain attitude and some sacrifice in practicality or comfort.

For me, the ST variants represent much the best way to experience the excitement of Italy’s best bikes because they have such a well-rounded character. On an ST4, I can feel relaxed just pottering lazily through town or countryside, carve through bends, accelerate to stupid speeds or rack-up comfortable miles on motorways, and all with a real sense of pride and confidence in the machine beneath me. More than that, every ride is enhanced by that indefinable Desmodromic aura, and by an organic character that is missing from so many other bikes. No Ducati could be said to be just a means of transport: riding them is a shared experience, perhaps more akin to being astride a rapid and obedient horse, and potentially just as scary!

Tuning expert Neil Spalding (www.sigmaperformance.com) drew no equine comparisons, but he was certainly enthusiastic in a fascinating account of working on his own ST4, which he had affectionately named ‘Stanley, The Gentleman’s Express’. I know what he was getting at: in four-wheeled terms, Ducati’s sports bikes may resemble Ferraris, but the sports-tourers have more in common with that classy marque, the Aston Martin.

In the Grand Touring tradition, the ST’s suspension is taut but supple, and the bike stays glued to the road, soaking-up most road-surface imperfections well. The chassis is superb and reacts with great precision. Like all Ducatis, directional stability takes precedence so responses are not ultra-quick, but the advantage is that this bike never ever gets out of shape, and you can place it exactly where you want it on the road. Front-wheel braking is powerful and controllable such that, on a dry road, rider anticipation and reaction time are the limiting factors, not Mr Brembo’s kit. Come the wet, the progressive action is very welcome as, without ABS on the ‘4’, it would be so easy to lock a wheel. In true Ducati tradition, the back brake is little more than cosmetic. (But at least the pedal can be made more accessible: see the Yahoo ST2_owners website)

For a race-spec motor, the Desmoquattro is amazingly versatile, and it pulls very well in the low and mid range, with a top end well beyond that of a Desmodue Ducati. The light flywheel means that those big pulsing pistons do need nursing up to speed, but the power delivery quickly smoothes out and the motor spins free, delivering exhilarating urge with just enough rough edge to let you know you’ve got something with attitude beneath you. Fuelling is glitch-free, but the available torque demands precision control of the throttle if progress at low speeds is to be smooth. Even a tiny amount of drag caused by the twistgrip rubbing on the bar-end weight can make it difficult to feed the power in without lurching forward, and woe betide you if the revs drop too low, as the motor is surprisingly easy to stall. Assorted bits of stainless-steel reinforcement in my left leg are testimony to what can happen if it stalls in a low-speed turn and you don’t bale out quick enough! (However, my home-brewed progressive throttle has tamed the low-speed control response: see the Yahoo ST2_owners web site)

Of course, it’s not just the dynamic character of a Ducati that delights; the thing is an aural feast too. Come the bend, roll the throttle off, maybe drop a cog, let engine-braking trim the speed, and enjoy that satisfying rumble of authority. Pick up the drive as you hit the apex, open it up again and the soundtrack shifts through a twanged-ruler rattle overlaid by a whirr like a cicada, and progresses via a mellow bassoon-with-a-frog-in-its-throat to an aggressive snarl. With a ventilated air-box the sounds of modest acceleration are just more focussed, but a proper handful of throttle adds a deeper roar like an American V8 oval-track race-car. Stirring music to the ears of the Ducatista! With such a soundtrack for entertainment, speed is entirely a secondary issue.

To my mind, fitting open exhausts just to make more noise would be a crude move, quite apart from it swamping the other music. The ST has a certain dignity that is better served by understatement, and stealth can be very useful at times. Having said that, my standard-exhaust bike can hardly be quiet as opportunities for ornithological study always arise whenever I trickle down a country lane, though wings and tails are all that are generally visible. Perhaps the original Arrow-made exhaust has a fruitier sound than later bikes because it dates from 1999, prior to catalysts being fitted in the pipes.

The bodywork styling of the ST is curvaceous and flowing, and is much more organic than the aggressive angularity of most modern bikes. The fairing does a decent job of protecting the rider from the weather and also from the radiator heat, unlike some other Ducatis. Fortunately, it effectively hides the mechanical parts too. Just as well, because a modern Ducati engine may be impressive in a complicated functional way, but it is no longer a thing of any beauty, seemingly designed without thought for style or grime-shedding ability. Aesthetics aside, trying to keep a naked Duke pristine on the backroads of East Anglia would be a nightmare. At least the ST’s innards stay tidy through the muddy autumn sugar-beet season but, come the winter salt, it joins me inside the house, and a less-precious bike better suited to the conditions takes over duties.

My winter hack is a soft and manageable Honda NTV 650. Nothing like as charismatic as the ST, but this neat shaft-drive three-valve-per-pot vee-twin is lighter and much easier to control, and has engine management and flywheel characteristics that make it seem more like a tractable single at low revs on greasy surfaces. It’s a pity that Honda converted it into the flabby D’eauville.

Excellent winter bike; shaftie Honda NTV650 with handlebar muffs and the necessary socket for heated clothing.

The Story so far….

Returning to two wheels in later life, I started with a charming, if docile, V50 Moto Guzzi, and then progressed to that most forgotten of Ducatis, a Cagiva Alazzurra. What we might now call a street-bike rather than a sportster, it was Cagiva’s neater interpretation of the ugly duckling Pantah 650TL, produced as they saved the Ducati factory from oblivion in the mid-‘80s. Though the Alazzurra was never brought into the UK in any numbers, the model was quite successful in the States. It was completely new to me when one of the original small UK batch turned up in the Italian Motorcycle Owners Club magazine, and I was delighted to have discovered the Pantah I had always wanted: all the excellent Ducati mechanicals, including that glorious fully-finned Desmo engine with its superb, sculptural polished belt-casing, but set up as an everyday-comfortable bike rather than a ‘racer’.

Cagiva Alazzurra ‘650’, (this one actually 606cc courtesy of the Factory partsbin!), with various cosmetic mods.

Cagiva were creative in making their touring version of the Pantah, giving it a superb riding position and many small refinements, including a proper interlocked side-stand fitted years before the reborn Ducati Factory thought it might be a good idea!

Over the years, I’ve put a fair bit of effort into improving this bike, and it’s now a real pleasure to ride, and a definite ‘keeper’. However, at one stage I lost interest in it, tried hard to sell it and looked for an upgrade/replacement.

I wanted a more-modern sports-tourer, and all the magazines said there was really only one player in the game, so I made arrangements with the nearest Honda dealer for a test-ride on a version of the famed VFR. A pre-VTEC 800, it was an Anniversary model, resplendent in the livery that Honda used in the Isle of Man so long ago, and by general agreement, as good as VFRs get. Sadly, the look of the thing was about all that impressed me. Of course it could go fast enough when it was wound up, but there was no feeling of involvement, its low-speed performance lacked all vitality, and it sounded like a vacuum cleaner. Automaton-like, it moved but had no spark of life. No more than the sum of its parts, that bike.

Given all the hype surrounding Honda’s finest, my reaction to it was a big surprise. Brought up in an age of unrefined singles and crude vibratory twins, I had always believed that fours were biking’s nirvana, and that their supposed smoothness was ultimately desirable. With further experience, I’ve come to realise that there is something very fundamental about the power delivery, feel and sound of a good vee-twin that gives immense satisfaction. In comparison, a four has no more character than an electric motor. To me, such engines are just a soul-less means of propulsion which sounds far too busy, and they generally lack the low-rev torque that makes it possible to ride with sanity. Moreover, their high-frequency vibration is far more aggravating than that of a well-balanced 90degree twin. I didn’t realize it at the time, but perhaps the VFR was always on a hiding-to-nothing, because Ducati has fascinated me ever since I lusted after their little singles and admired their own stillborn vee-four, the Apollo, a long, long time ago.

Suitably reorientated, I rode home from the Honda dealer on my friendly and familiar Cagiva/Ducati twin, pondering the value of much of the motorcycling journalism I’d read in the last few years. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, I guess, but complication doesn’t always bring gratification….

My first taste of modern Dukes came with a gentle circuit of a Leicestershire car-park on an early Red ‘n’ Gold ST4, mostly just to gauge how manageable this larger bike would be. A cautious ride, but very inspirational too, the ST had far more poke and weight than the Cagiva, but I’d have to get used to a more sports-orientated riding position. Suitably impressed, and grateful to the mature owner, I asked whether he was considering making any changes, such as fitting different exhausts. He astonished me when he said: “I reckon that if you need to modify a bike, you’ve bought the wrong one!”

Frankly, I don’t think any manufacturer makes the perfect bike, not least because bikers themselves come in all shapes and sizes, and most will have a different take on the design compromises that are feasible for production. I’m sure this holds true even for the manufacturer and the bike that comes closest to one’s own ideal. Were there no ‘faults’ at all that needed correction, most of us would still enjoy making our pride-and-joy more individual, if only by giving the manufacturer’s accessory catalogue a good drubbing.

Anyway, after a proper road-test of a new ST2 that also impressed me a lot, I was committed to the Ducati ST genre, and my best buddy found me a lowmileage Red ‘n’ Gold ’99 ST4 that someone had traded-in on a new Fireblade. Poor misguided fellow the first owner was, but I’m forever grateful! My ST may be the same model as the bike of that contented gent in Leicester, but now it fair bristles with little modifications and each makes the bike just that bit better than it left the factory. For me, at least.

Modifications made:

Even before I took delivery of the bike, I dealt with that irritating feature, the sui-side-stand. The Honda dealer where I got the bike had already destroyed one mirror due to this ridiculous anti-litigation auto-retract design.

Sidestand: Dr Desmo shallow-head pivot bolt, plus magnetic reed-switch

On the Web, I found that Dr Desmo in Illinois (www.drdesmo.com) sold a modification that permitted the stand to stay down, so I sent off for one at once. What it turned out to be was simply a stainless pivot-bolt with a shallow head. In fact, if you were to cut down the original bolt head, it would work just as well, allowing the spring-plate to go over-centre and hold the stand down. It was almost as if Ducati left the option open for the observant rider/mechanic to modify at their own risk.

Now I had the side-stand setup that was normal in the good old days when men were men, bikes leaked oil, and nobody looked to sue someone else over their own negligence. However, memory being what it is, I did occasionally feel that slight nudge when I rode off without flicking the stand up. Upgrading to the entire microswitch-equipped assembly from a later ST would have been a viable option, but I wouldn’t have wanted the Factory wiring arrangement,which prevents warming of the engine on the side-stand and can apparently give intermittent ignition problems. Ducati still hadn’t got it right!

I was currently working on a chain lubricator installation that uses a magnetic reed switch to count wheel revolutions, so a cheap way to warn of ‘side-standdown’ was simply to build another reed switch into the original stand’s pivot. This illuminates a very visible flashing red LED up front, so there was no need to invade the wiring loom and complicate things any further.

By this stage, the side-stand foot already had a thick alloy sole screwed to it, to compensate for the dimensional change caused by raising the rear suspension ride height by 25mm. This adjustment improves turn-in quite significantly by steepening the head angle, and also has the effect of keeping the front down on hard acceleration, due to chain tension working against the raised swingarm pivot point. One disadvantage for shorter-legged riders is that the bike is taller, but thicker soles on one’s riding-boots do help here. However, those same short riders will be pleased to find that the bike is now much easier to put onto the centre-stand, due to the mysteries of Geometry.

The ride-height link threads are bottomed-out at the factory and may be difficult to loosen (access is awkward, and the nut with the notches is also a left-hand thread) but, if you can move it, one full turn equals 10mm height at the wheel.

A word of caution: with the rear ride height increased, the on-stand chain tension needs to be set with more slack than the manual says, as the swing-arm is now at a different angle. It is vital that the chain is not over-tightened, or the output shaft bearings in the gearbox will suffer. The only way to be certain of the right tension is to raise the wheel and sprocket until the spindle, swing-arm pivot and gearbox sprocket lie in a straight line. This is the point when the two sprockets are furthest apart. Loading the bike with large friends may be the easiest way to do this. Alternatively, with the bike on its centre-stand, the top bolt on the rear shock can be removed, and the shock laid back on the hugger to give room to raise it and the wheel. The breather box will need to be removed for this, which also requires the undertray to be shifted temporarily. Having blocked-up the wheel to find the right height, I then made a pair of wooden props to go beneath the swing-arm ends to rest the wheel at that height, after which it was easy to spin the wheel and set the tension just short of tight. Then the wheel can be dropped down and the shock pivot-bolt reinserted. Now, the chain slack will be set right for extreme bump conditions. On mine the slack is 55mm on the centre-stand, measured at a point to the rear of the sticker, and I’ve made a small gauge which can be placed in a marked position on the underside of the arm, and which has notches cut at the extremes of chain line. Then, no need for further measuring, always set the chain tension as per the gauge.

Other items that came from Dr Desmo were a Super Quiet Clutch plate pack, and a pair of his angled handlebar-raising spacers, though both of these items have been superseded as development progressed.

Certainly, with Dr Desmo’s help, the clutch was now quiet, but it had an unpredictable habit of squawking and grabbing on rapid starts. Eventually, the £/$ exchange rate being favourable, the bike was treated to a beautiful alloy clutch basket from Charlie Smith at ProCutting in Nevada, (www.procutting.com), together with a set of his hand-fitted Barnett plates, plus a new OEM clutch centre/hub. The dreaded grabbing was completely cured, and the clutch was very sweet, but, with wear on the tabs, it did begin to clatter again. Using lessons learned from the Dr Desmo kit, I modified the plate-pack very simply, resulting in the perfect, ‘silent’ Ducati dry clutch.

The quietening mod consists of putting one or more friction plates into the basket first, so that they bottom in the slots and just contact the back of the first plain steel plate on the clutch centre when the clutch is fully engaged. This has the effect of damping any relative movement between the clutch centre/plate tabs and the basket slots, which is the main cause of noise and wear. Others have machined special rings to do the same job, and there are some theoretical disadvantages to nipping-up the whole clutch assembly, but this simple approach has worked well for my bike and me. The hammering noise of a standard Ducati clutch at idle is one sound that I definitely do not find attractive!

Ducati clutches have other foibles too. Within relatively few miles, the fluid in the lever reservoir goes black and starts to drop, often resulting in clutch drag and difficult gear-changing . There are various theories about this; most relating to the piston seal in the slave cylinder. Sometimes the rubber itself breaks down, but it may also be that, with only one seal, the piston rocks and scuffs the bore. Whatever the cause, fine black particles reflux into the reservoir. Certainly, a build-up of chain gunge and grit around the semi-sealed slave cylinder mouth doesn’t aid longevity. Later model Ducati slaves are apparently improved, but I opted for a replacement from VeeTwo in Australia (www.veetwo.net), which fitted my earlier cases, has multiple seals and a slightly wider bore, giving a definite reduction in clutch lever force.

Kinder though it is to the left hand, the gearing-down of the clutch-lifting action means that the plates do not separate so far. This was never a problem with the Dr Desmo kit, but finding neutral at rest became difficult as the Barnett plate-pack bedded-in. Possibly, their friction material is softer, or their spring-plate is more flexible, but it was apparent that extra travel was needed to free the clutch properly. The cure was simply to bend the lever blade out slightly, and cut a groove in the thickness of my ProGrip 714 Enduro bar-grips, (www.MandP.com), so that I could get a longer stroke on the master cylinder. Clutch action and gear selection remain faultless many miles later, but I was surprised to see a reoccurrence of the black clutch fluid syndrome after about 2 years. This turned out to be because the rubber of the internal seals in the VeeTwo slave was not glycol-resistant, the inner O-ring decomposing into a black sticky mess, which found its way back to the master cylinder. VeeTwo have now changed to Viton seals, which are resistant to a wide range of chemicals, and they exchanged my slave under warranty.

I’ve also made another improvement on the smoothness of control action by fitting stainless needle roller bearings into the OEM levers of the clutch and front brake. These are easy to install, and remove all friction/stiction in the levers. The bearing runs on an 8mm stainless bolt shank, held central in the bar-mount by spacers cut from the original 12mm plain-bearing pivot pin.

Needle roller fitted to lever, stainless pivot bolt, spacers cut from OEM pin.

Those comfortable Enduro handlebar-grips by ProGrip could, once the ends have been opened, be fitted as they come, but I turned a little off the inboard end of the nylon twist-grip sleeve to get the best fit. The rubber flanges are a little wide and obstruct access to the indicator switch, so they also needed reduction. It was worth doing, as the cushioned barrel-shape is very comfortable to hold without being bulky, and they allow smoother control of the power delivery than the skinny originals, with less tendency to get hand cramps. On that subject, I was pleased to find out that the ST’s start lever is only a throttle advance, and can be used as a modest cruise control, without affecting the mixture. It will only give 50-60mph, and I wouldn’t like to use it for more than a few seconds on a very clear road, but that can give enough time to flex your right hand without having to stop.

The remainder of the transmission is stock, including the ST4 final-drive gearing (15/43) which is better suited to low-speed work than that of the other ST variants. Having recently fitted a new OEM sprockets-and-chain kit, I’ve drilled and lock-wired the small bolts that hold the front sprocket retainer-plate. This reduces the temptation to overtighten them: if they break, the sprocket will loosen and the chain may snap, perhaps even penetrating the engine casing.

I want to preserve the new transmission as long as possible, so a chain oiler is a must, and the best system I’ve come across is that made by Pablo Croft of ProOiler in Antwerp, (www.pro-oiler.com). Reading Pablo’s extensive literature, it is obvious that he has put much thought into making this metered, pumped system, which is capable of maintaining the chain in a virtuallywearless state, with the barest minimum of fling-off. Chain lubricants need to be able to flow to do their job of maintaining the sealing rings, plus they must facilitate shedding of road dirt. As Pablo says; “If there’s no fling-off at all, there’s no lubrication”, so one has to come to terms with a bit of disfiguring muck on the rim.

I spent a lot of time fitting the ProOiler to ensure a neat installation, and mounted the nozzles on the back of a sharks-fin toe guard from R&G in Hampshire, (www.rg-racing.com), which protects them and looks very neat. Pictures of most of the installation are in PO’s model-specific website gallery, and Pablo responds to all technical enquiries with enthusiasm. It’s a shame that his everyday ride and test-hack is a special Yamaha and not a Ducati, but big vee-twins really do need his support: you can positively feel a Duke’s chain stretching when it’s dry!

R&G Toeguard with Pro-Oiler fitted on the back, plus custom axle plates.

I’m convinced that performance is improved with a transmission where the seals and rollers stay moist with clean oil, and the chain slack just doesn’t seem to need adjustment. With an unanodised chain, a quick mist with WD40 is still worthwhile to avoid rust on the outer link surfaces after washing the bike, because the whole point of the PO is to deliver the barest minimum of oil only to the places it is needed the most: the rollers and seals. The oil needs to be thin enough that a little spreads a long way, and road-dirt does not stick.

While 10w40 engine oil will do the job, ATF is even better (I dope mine with ZX1 Friction Eliminator), and delivery is directly related to wheel rotation/distance travelled, and is precision-adjustable. Instructions for setting the delivery-rate also take into account chain pitch and the number of links that need lubrication, and the system can tap into the electronic speedo feed on later bikes. So different from the messy all-or-nothing, temperatureinfluenced, gravity-fed systems that deliver oil to the chain whenever the engine is running, especially when the throttles are closed at a standstill. I fitted one of them to the Cagiva, but it was so bad that a Pro-Oiler has now taken its place.

One obvious flaw in the ST is the design of the crude pressed-steel axle-plates that fail to stay anchored as the rear-wheel axle nuts are tightened. Ducati Monster and Multistrada owners will also be familiar with this sure-fire way of frustrating your careful chain adjustment and gouging paint off the swing-arm at the same time. There are now some aftermarket improvements to the original design, and even the Factory has beefed them up a bit, but I felt sure there was a better way to do it.

Given that the gearing and chain-length have not been significantly altered from original specification, the steel-swing-armed ST4 has a very generous reserve of unused slot behind the axle. This can be utilised by making a flat axle-plate with a block on the back that fits closely in the surplus slot and prevents the plate from turning. I’ve also added a short extension that covers the remainder of the slot and keeps muck out. The tighter you torque, the better it holds, and the chain-adjustment marks on the arm, which are pretty accurate, can actually be used! Apart from being available, braze-able and noncorroding, stainless steel proved to be the ideal material, because it resists the crushing force of the nuts much better than aluminium alloy, and can be made a precision-fit on the axle.

Custom axle-plate; lower surface showing locating block

Image:Chain adjusters.jpg
Wired chain adjusters.

Mounted at the end of the ST swing-arm are two neat chain-adjuster bolts and castings, which need to be treated with care. The alloy casting can easily fracture if the bolt is over-tightened. If, however, the bolt is too loose, the endcap can come free, twist and jam between the wheel and the arm. Not good. I’ve drilled the heads of my bolts, the caps and the swingarm and wire them all together, so nothing is going to come off. That looks neater, I reckon, than fitting long threaded studs with double locknuts. Tungsten-carbide dental burrs are good for drilling high-tensile bolt-heads, by the way.

I’ve done very little to the engine of my ST4, as it already has plenty of power available throughout the range. For most of my riding, the equally-torquey ST2 would probably suffice, but I love those occasional excursions to five-figure revs. Since I am light and never carry a pillion passenger, the extra grunt of the 996cc version is not a priority ‘must-have’ for me, and having recently borrowed an ‘05 999, I am also aware of the dangerous effect that bigger reserves of power could have on my life and licence! Besides, I’m rather proud of the iconic 916cc displacement of the ST4. Strangely, when they introduced the four-valve ST, Ducati made very little fuss about it, and the ’99 versions have almost no indication of the significant engine change from the ST2.

I’m anti-label by inclination, but this disappointed me. Just for fun and to maybe spread a little confusion, I designed an add-on, made for me by Classic Transfers in Gloucester, (www.classictransfers.co.uk), to go beneath the lonely Ducati logo on the fairing. In matching silver, this reads Desmoquattro- Novesedici’

Logo add-on, plus bar raisers and rubber trim to tank edge

I chanced upon the Italian for ‘nine-sixteen’ in a Ducati home-market brochure for that fabulous beast, written years before the current 16-valve GP bikes needed a name. As I played with the lettering, it struck me as appropriate that the dynamic form of any font is named after the country that makes our favourite bikes! A further indulgence from Classic Transfers is the beautiful retro Meccanica decal on the screen.

Apart from fitting Denso Iridium spark plugs, the only mod that relates to the engine is the removal of most of the back slope of the air-box cover, replacing it with wire mesh to keep vermin out. This might appear counter-productive as it destroys any ram-air effect, but the intakes do not connect directly to the front of the fairing anyway. Moreover, tests have shown that the ST air-box is quite restrictive (see www.sigmaperformance.com), and the Ducati Performance air-box/filter upgrade dispenses with the cover altogether. I reckon that throttle response in the mid range is now better, and though intake noise on small throttle openings is much the same as before, the sound that accompanies a real tweak of the wrist is reminiscent of the drone from an American oval-racer! I’ve stuck with the standard air filter and, so far, I’ve seen no sign that the mixture has been adversely affected. I’ve also left the original exhaust cans on as they are already loud enough, and the higher backpressure is said to make for better torque in the low-to-mid-rev range that I use most.

Airbox: back section removed and mesh added.

Gas-flow of a different type brings me to one of the most obvious modifications to my ST: the upper fairing and screen. My bike had the standard screen assembly from new. Very soon, I decided that I needed to raise the handlebars for comfort, and Dr Desmo’s 7degree-angled-back bar-spacers permitted 25mm of extra height within the standard fairing top. The downside of these was that steering-lock/thumb clearance was reduced, and the bars gave less leverage and an awkward angle for my wrists. I lived with that until I took a test-ride on an ST3, and was amazed by the protective qualities, if not the look, of the restyled fairing top and screen. Not wanting to replace my bike, I bought the special-offer Ducati Comfort Kit fairing top designed for the earlier models, expecting that it would provide much the same benefits, with more bar clearance, better protection and a quieter ride.

Whoever designed the Comfort Kit (CK) had obviously been briefed to give the ST front a facelift; well worthwhile in my view, as the old face looks rather staid. The Kit includes the upper fairing split into two slim halves, a new screen which connects their inner edges, a single instrument-surrounding panel, two bar-spacers (only 10mm thick), and a purely-cosmetic stick-on trim for the headlamp glass. I like the new look, which one appreciative bike journo described as ‘more assertive’. Curiously, the treatment of the air intake edges suggests that the CK design-work also included a new grille which didn’t make it to production. To fill the awkward gap, I’ve made a stack of three curved alloy plates to replace the original two, and they stand further forward to complement the profile of the fairing edges and headlamp.

The increased bar and control clearance that the CK provides is very worthwhile, and I got a local racing-machinist firm to CNC-mill a small batch of bar-spacers to the same profile as the ones in the Kit but 35mm thick. For me, this height gives the ideal spread of bodyweight between bars and seat,and the angle of the bars and their width, which are now as per original, suit my physique perfectly.

35mm bar-raisers, plugs to cover fork adjusters, ProOiler controller, (Ducati acrylic Comfort Kit screen still in place at this time).

The look and the bar-clearance of the Comfort Kit were an improvement, but the promise of better wind-protection was certainly not met, the short upright screen generating much more turbulence and noise than the original. I experimented with an add-on lip cut from the old screen to jet the airflow upwards, but though surface-mounted streamers showed that the air blast had indeed risen, it was still far too noisy. Purchasers of aftermarket screen-lips have reported this result too, and I’m rather glad it was a failure because the look of the thing was most unpleasant. It might be acceptable on something grotesque and/or ponderous like a BMW or a Gold Wing, but not on a svelte Ducati.

By this stage, it was obvious that a complete change of air management was needed to get the result I wanted. Rather than go looking for an alternative, I decided to try and make something better, based on my own home-brewed aerodynamic theories. From the wind-noise point-of-view, the quietest bikes are generally those with no windscreen at all, because very little turbulence is created in front of the riders face. The new screen would have to be a compromise between protection and silence, but the style had high priority too.

The first stage of construction was to attach a sheet of plasterer’s expanded metal to the fairing top, and massage it into a shape that looked right. I wanted as much protection as possible without provoking vortices and turbulence, and it had to integrate with the lines of the CK fairing too.

Ducati Comfort Kit screen: noisy

Custom screen: quiet

The end-result, made from a couple of layers of glass-fibre and a fair bit of filler, is shaped to deflect the air gently and then release it very smoothly, thus minimising turbulence at the boundary zone. The height is such that, for most of my riding, the boundary zone is at chin level, and my helmet is in a ‘clean’ and quiet air-stream, so it still feels as though I’m on a bike, not in a tin box. ‘Clean’, that is, apart from the inevitable bugs! Hoping that they don’t get in, my visor can now be cracked open for more ventilation when needed. This provokes very little extra wind-noise, especially with a strip of fluffy Velcro along the inner edge of the chin-bar to soften draughts, but the Ducati music becomes more audible. That was an unexpected bonus!

If the air-pressure does get tiring at higher speed, a slight crouch brings my helmet top forward and down into a line that follows the screen profile, and the potential for turbulence-generation is further reduced. So different from the original short, narrow and upright Comfort Kit screen, which filled the big gap behind it with turbulence and noise. OK, it wasn’t as bad as the barn door on the front of the average cruiser would be, but even with custom earplugs, I found it annoying.

All windscreens are a compromise between protection and turbulence, and style and personal preference are major factors too. I’ve considered further experiments on mine but the first attempt performed much better than I’d expected, so I don’t want to mess it up. Small incremental differences are very difficult to evaluate anyway, and it’s amazing how much effect the air’s density, humidity and general movement have. Not to mention any traffic in front, especially commercials and people-carriers.

However, I was riding along one day, using my hands as vanes to alter airflow direction, when it suddenly occurred to me that there was something else I could do. Subsequent work to reduce the sound of air turbulence has focussedon me, not the bike, with very worthwhile modifications to the lower edge of my FM helmet and jacket collar. The gap between helmet and shoulders iscrucial, the ears being fed noise directly through this ‘soft’ junction. The trick isto effectively seal it, while still being able to turn your head! The Wind-Jammertype of neck-curtain (www.proline-sports.com) is a good start in this direction. Extensions to the helmet can provoke instability and oscillations in cross-winds,but my current helmet configuration enjoys the equivalent of a rotary damper, as it seats against the stiffened storm-collar of my Hein Gericke jacket. The helmet skirt is made of boot-sole leather Velcro’d to the Wind-Jammer band, and has a rubber fringe to deter vortex formation. None of these mods to my riding kit appears likely to be hazardous in a crash situation, by the way, as they are all deformable.

Obviously, the reduction of wind-noise has become something of an obsession, but I do relish the serene feeling of cutting cleanly through the air. For me, the motion of biking through the countryside is almost dreamlike, and wind noise is most unwelcome since all it does is add subliminal stress and reduce my concentration on the job in hand.

For ST owners not familiar with the Comfort Kit, the custom screen’s bottom edge has the same beaky profile as the factory screen, and the fitting is unchanged. The possibility of mass-production of the new design in acrylic has been discussed, but it would surely make a loss since there are so few CK-spec STs on the road. I did wonder whether a clear acrylic version of the new screen might be more attractive, but having it opaque is not a problem, as it is never in line-of-sight, and the shade beneath has the real benefit of making the panel lights more visible in daylight. Inevitably, a bulky screen carries more visual weight, but the metallic-anthracite-grey finish is tempered by a broad metallic charcoal-black band at its edge and, with its retro Ducati decal in place, I’m pleased with the style.

The back edge of the screen also now has six high-intensity red LEDs embedded in it, three for left and three for right indicator warning. I tried the TurnAlert system and didn’t like it for several reasons. I’ve now come to the conclusion that having high-visibility repeater lights is the best way to avoid leaving the indicators on longer than they are actually needed, rather than having some gizmo scream when it thinks I don’t need them anymore or, worse, turn them off by itself. Having red LEDs beaming straight into one’s face cannot be ignored, though a switchable low setting proved necessary for night use. I did try conventional green LEDs but my peripheral vision didn’t pick up the colour nearly as well, so red it has to be. Makes you wonder about the relative collision rates of Ducatis and Kawasakis with cars pulling out from side roads, doesn’t it? Two sets of LEDs are needed because I’ve simply wired them in parallel with the original pathetic panel light, the supply-polarity of which changes for left and right: LEDs only work in one direction. Fortunately, their low current consumption does not affect the flashing rate.

I’ve also found other uses for LEDs, but green was the most suitable colour this time. One provides illumination for the buttons of the ProOiler control panel, and another functions as a headlight telltale, which, on a Euro-spec bike, is very reassuring. With the LEDs for the side-stand and alarm too, the dash panel looks quite festive!

HID-equipped Ducati Designs headlamp, and LED sidelights in custom grille.

Apart from the screen, the other big difference to the look of the front of my ST4 is the fitting of a DucatiDesigns headlight assembly from Paul Geller in Oregan, (www.ducatidesigns.com). Without doubt, this is one of the best possible upgrades for an earlier ST. The original headlamp light-pattern is poor, and the glass fogs, due to the internal plastics being marginal for heattolerance. In addition, the original supply wiring is pathetic, so just fitting higher wattage bulbs is not the way to go, unless you like the smell of frying. The light pattern and output from the LeMans-type magnesium-shelled 65watt Hella units in the DD headlamp is very impressive, and the whole assembly is of superb quality and comes with a total rewiring of the supply circuit. Fitting is very straightforward, helped by a mini-CD full of instructions.

The DD upgrade is priced commensurate with its quality, and its style suits the character of the bike much better than the oriental-look unit of the 04-onward ST’s. Since it is identical in size to the old headlamp, the DD will fit the standard or the Comfort Kit fairing top, and I chose to spray the GFRP surround in contrasting steel-metallic to mimic the original glass. I’m sure that most customers automatically opt to have the unit supplied in the same colour as the fairing but, like that, I feel the boundary between the fairing and the headlamp surround looks rather odd. Besides, sticking with the same colour misses a chance to add an extra styling touch.

HID ballast for low-beam head light, fitted to frame tube

Having enjoyed the benefits of the DD headlamp for a couple of years, I was intrigued by the possibility of uprating the bulbs. Apparently, there are few alternative H9 bulbs available that can be expected to give a good service life, so my thoughts turned to High-Intensity-Discharge xenon units. These provide a higher output of a much whiter light, apparently for a mere 35w consumption. This figure tells only part of the story, as the power supply or ballast pulls around 150w for ten seconds, tapering down for a further twenty seconds to a final draw of about 40w. Good power-handling capacity in the wiring is therefore essential (the DD conversion is perfect but standard ST wiring is not), as is the ability to have the lights turned off while starting.

I decided that the expense (approx £125, made by Pilot, www.hids4u.co.uk) was only justifiable for the low-beam, which does, of course, do the most work. Also, ignition of HID bulbs is comparatively slow; a fact that probably explains why Audi fitted HID low beams but halogen high beams to my A4. HID bulbs are supposed to last for 3000 hours, which is a significant factor in justifying the expense too.

The neat stainless HID ballast unit was fitted to a light stainless cradle that clips around a frame tube behind the ignition coil on the left, and the wiring was straightforward, apart from having to butcher the base of an old H9 bulb to provide a plug-and-play connection. The light from this 6K colour-temperature bulb is very powerful and blue-white, making the excellent halogen high-beam unit look rather yellow, even though its beam is superb. In an attempt to get a halogen high-beam that was a little nearer the colour of the HID, I tried a ‘Xenon upgrade: 4.6K’ H9 bulb from Autobulbs-Direct that had a blue envelope and a slightly whiter colour, but it had about half the output of the old GE/Osram H9 bulb! Not a good move. Perhaps another HID will eventually find its way into the high-beam unit...

A recent modification is to provide front sidelights to enhance the visibility of the bike to other road users. Prompted by having a stock of super-highintensity 10mm white LEDs with no particular purpose, and seeing the interesting additional horizontal strips of light within the headlamp unit of the 1098 Ducati, I’ve made two arrays of five LEDs and mounted them within the custom grille unit below the DD installation. For compactness, the LEDs are bonded together in an alloy shroud, the base of which is flexible enough to permit some directional alignment. They are powered directly from the sidelight feed, which had been redundant since the DD (which has none) was installed. So now I have two powerful strips of very white light below the DD low-beam, the hardware being completely invisible from the side. Of course, the light output of the LEDs does not match that of the halogen accessory running lights which some owners fit, but they are very discrete.

Having sorted the front lights, I thought about the back light. This is an excellent unit, having a very good mirror design that projects a brilliant beam when the secondary stoplight filament lights up. The obvious flaw is that the unit runs only a single bulb, so there is no backup if the primary filament burns out. Multiple-element LED bulbs are reckoned to have a much longer service life and would appear to be an attractive proposition, but their focussed output is not suited to lamp housings which have been designed to utilise the omni-directional light from an incandescent filament. This may be why they all carry a warning about not being approved for road use.

I didn’t want to fit supplementary light units and spoil the neat tail of the ST, so I looked at the possibility of including a few LED elements within the existing light unit itself. Beneath the red lens, there is space outboard of the reflector that looked promising. After experimenting with arrays of several red LEDs glued together, I opted for a pair of 19-element LED stop/tail bulbs made by Prism (Halfords, etc) because the individual elements were packed much tighter than I could achieve. Also, they incorporate some clever circuitry to enable them to work in conjunction with the existing wiring/bulb. To fit them into the limited space, I had to remove the metal bases and cut away some of the plastic of the light unit, but they did just fit, held in place with polyurethane mastic. As LEDs are so directional, it was important to align them with the optical axis of the light unit, which is quite different from all the obvious design features of the unit. Fortunately, this axis can be found by removing the diffusing lens, firing-up the stop filament, and noting the direction of the very discrete beam projected. The completed light-unit works well, with the conventional bulb and reflector still producing the more noticeable stop light, but the LEDs at either end provide good support, and contribute to a brighter tail-light that is well suited to daytime use.

LED units attached outboard of the reflector in the original tail-light

I’ve left the indicators as they are because their performance seems very adequate, and a failed element is quickly detectable by the frantic flashing of the indicator warning light. Unidirectional LEDs are not suited to this situation due to the considerations mentioned above vis-a-vis reflector design. Worse, I believe their sharp ignition and complete lack of afterglow is a positive disadvantage in visual perception terms, and tends to distract and/or misinform. Ideally, some auto-electrician will invent an LED-dedicated flasher unit that will give a timed decay in voltage so they pulse rather than spending as long ‘off’ as they do ‘on’.

Electrical-connection maintenance is good policy on any Duke, and every junction block on the bike is treated with ACF-50 dielectric spray (M and P, etc) during the winter lay-up, thus killing any possible corrosion or resistance build-up. I’m told that this is a good way to avoid regulator problems on ’99- onwards bikes, where the unit is at least in the airflow to cool it. Earlier ones are said to positively devour regulators and generators, and need more than an aerosol to fix them…

Other electrical upgrades include fitting a louder Stebel Magnum electric horn, (www.NippyNormans.com), which has a dignified tone better suited to the character of the bike, and also providing a flying-socket power feed up front that doubles for charging the battery and powering Klan heated riding kit. The need for an accessory connection was addressed by Ducati in 2000/2001, though the fusible rating of it is apparently low. Inadequate wiring always seems to have been a problem with these bikes, and another worthwhile mod is the replacement of the battery/starter cables with thicker-gauge wire to reduce voltage loss.

The battery-cable mod is much discussed in ST circles, especially for the higher capacity/higher compression 996cc ST4s, which is apparently fitted with a more-voltage-sensitive ECU but a lower-capacity battery. Stupid or what? The mod is still worth doing on the ST2 and ST4 though, and I made the bits myself with materials from Vehicle Wiring Products in Derbyshire, (Tel: 0115 9305454), who also stock the Tyco/AMP waterproof connectors used throughout the original loom. The difficult-to-remove earth cable is best left in place and a second thicker one run to a vacant threading on the engine. My motor now spins faster on the button than it did, but I’m fortunate that it has always been a one-press starter.

Dead-centre: extra earth lead to vacant thread in front cylinder-head, plusStiebel horn on custom bracket, Nicholls engine bolt.

As with the ‘bars and screen thing, I do like to be comfortable on a bike so I can better concentrate on the task of riding safely. That leads me to that other point of contact, the seat, which has changed significantly over the ST production span. At least until 1999 it was fairly comfortable, if rather firmer than other sports/touring bikes. Somewhat later, while the appearance stayed the same, the foam got even harder! Then, with the advent of the ST3 in 2004, a much more comfortable design of seat was introduced, albeit with a rather strange-looking covering material.

Though ‘04 seats are retro-fittable, I chose to have a small firm adjust the foam and recover my old one, which was certainly much cheaper. I was pleased with the result but the seat seemed to lose some of its initial softness, so I looked again at the available options.

Now, I’ve opted for the Ducati Performance Gel Comfort seat, which is much wider than the standard ’04 type, and actually looks as though it has been designed for comfort and long distance. It is far from being soft, but it definitely does what it says on the tin! Some riders feel that the ‘bum-stop’is positioned rather far back, but it does allow room to move around more during a long ride as one’s body beds-in to the dimensions of the bike.

Ducati Performance Comfort Gel seat

Shock reservoir mounted on custom bracket to allow Motobag fitment

Beneath the seat, I’ve made a stainless bracket to shift the Showa shock reservoir down to a frame bar, so as to release space behind the right-hand seat panel. Motobags in Utah (www.motobags.co) do very neat zipped liner bags for both of these elegant panels, but my left-hand one is already filled with alarm and chain-oiler hardware. By removing the loose central tray which sits over the rear hugger and also the helmet-securing loops, I now have room for a big chain and padlock, a fairly-comprehensive tool kit with spare bulbs, and a set of waterproof leggings. Since I can’t bring myself to spoil the lines of the bike by lowering the exhaust and fitting hard panniers (which I don’t have anyway), this storage space is very valuable. When it comes to the touring part of the specification, I’m happy to go with soft throw-overs. Just for fun, I’ve also fitted concealed bungee-attachment points where the factory pannierframe bolts on, but they are not quite so easy to access now, with all the stuff in the side-pods. Fortunately, the DP Comfort seat comes with clever fold-out bungee hooks beneath it, which are ideally-placed for securing luggage, but totally invisible when stowed.

Ducati’s frames are generally thought-of as being beyond criticism, but ST models up to about year 2001 have a nasty habit of breaking the rear engine mounts as the mileage approaches 20,000. This appears to be due to soft sub- 10mm bolts which don’t adequately support the junction between frame and engine casing, allowing a fretting movement between them. Legend has it that Ducati always replaces such broken frames under warranty, and they upgraded the studs to 12mm to cure the problem in 2001. Fortunately for those of us with early bikes, Nicholls Manufacturing in California, (www.nicholsmfg.com) make specially-machined high-tensile 10mm+ studs with longer shanks and extended nuts that fit much tighter, and hold their tension. They aren’t cheap, and the frame bungs don’t fit over them so well, but they do give peace-of mind.

Some owners of the early STs have had the generator rotor nut come loose from the crank end, due, so it is said, to Ducati’s lady engine-assemblers not being able to torque them sufficiently! Nicholls Mfg. reckons that the thread contact of the original nut is not optimal either, and they make a pair of special jam-nuts to do the job. Though the original never let me down, I’ve bought a little Nicholls insurance for that area too.

Underseat storage: Motobag with tools/bulbs etc. to left, chain/lock on hugger,alarm and chain oiler to right.

Talking of known problems, I should mention that ST’s are also subject to the flakey-rocker syndrome that affects other four-valve engines. So far, it seems that careful warming of the engine, frequent changes of the best oil and modest use of high revs have preserved the chrome-plating on mine, as a recent check at 18,000 miles found them in good condition. Legend has it that the Factory is also sympathetic if faulty rockers are found during an official dealer service. Talking of service intervals, my belief is that a Ducati treated with respect should be perfectly capable of running 12,000 between valve checks. Mine were set properly by Chris Harrop at Veloce M/Cs in Norfolk at 6,000, and needed minimal, mostly precautionary, adjustment 12,000 later. That mileage represented 2 years use, so the cam-belts were due for replacement too, but the consequences of neglecting that service item don’t bear thinking about.

The standard braking system of the ST is very good, so long as one doesn’t expect the rear brake to have much effect when moving, given that you can even find the lever! The front pads are currently OEM, but the rears I’ve changed for EBC HH, which give a little more bite.

Thinking that the OEM rubber hydraulic-hoses on my ’99 bike were a liability, despite the fact they showed no measurable expansion when pressurised, I ordered a full set of carbon-look Teflon/stainless hoses, with a little extra length to accommodate the raised bars. The kit that arrived was wrong in various ways as regards length and angles of banjo fittings, and was returned with the old hoses as patterns. The final result fitted perfectly and looks very neat. Well done, the helpful staff of Goodridge UK in Devon, (www.goodridge.net), who now have a more-accurate ST4 specification on file. I reckon that the slight improvement in brake-line firmness is as much due to fitting bleed-nipple banjos at the lever ends, allowing those last microbubbles to be purged, but the new pipes do look the business and should last indefinitely.

A braking tip that I try to remember is to occasionally jiggle the sprung bobbins that link the front discs to their carriers. If these lose their mobility due to roaddirt, they can, apparently, be a cause of the dreaded brake judder. Other possibilities are pad-material transfer, loose steering-head bearings, and undersize brake-line banjo bolts, but I’ve not had any problems so far.

The braking capabilities of my ST were put into perspective by a test-ride on an ’05 999. That bike would stand on its head with one finger on the lever! Awesome, and arguably necessary when travelling at ludicrous speeds as one is tempted to do on such a bike, but I wouldn’t like to have to make a panic stop on greasy roads with that set-up, which didn’t even have the radial calipers that are now de rigueur.

While down at wheel level, I’d like to put in a word of appreciation for the original 3-spoke design of Brembo wheel, especially in the gold finish that so suits a red Duke. I think the clean curve of the spokes and the barely-supported rim have a muscular and mysterious look that is missing from the fussy multispoked wheels that are common now, even if those are lighter. Yet another reason to stick with what I’ve got! On mine, the Brembos carried superb Avon Azarro ST tyres, which proved very popular amongst Ducati ST owners around the world. My first set lasted 9,000 grippy miles, quite likely helped by having Ultraseal puncture-prevention fluid inside, ( M and P), which also dissipates excess heat. Apparently, too much heat in Azarros hardened the rubber rapidly. Good for mileage but not for grip. The Azarros have now been superseded by the Avon Storms, which promise superior grip, especially in the wet, though many ST owners find they do not last as long as the Azarros.

Some would say that heavy rims and gunge-filled tyres would be deadly for sharp handling, but it seems fine to me. (Probably says a lot about my riding style. Steady would be the polite way to describe it with, hopefully, always enough time to avoid that stripe of mud or the dead pheasant exactly on my chosen line, not to mention the farm cart out-of-sight around the bend. And economical on the brakes for preference, letting the twistgrip do the work. That caused some comment from a following BikeSafe cop on a Pan European, who expected to see my brake-lights come on more often, but engine-braking is all part of the big-twin package.) Perhaps my ST isn’t as nimble as it could be, but, with the ride-height alteration, it only needs the tiniest touch of counter-steer to drop into a corner. This suits me; as I’d much rather have a stable bike than a twitchy one that cries out for a steering damper. That’s one mod that is very rarely seen on an ST.

Ducati went to a lot of trouble revising the cylinder heads of the 916 to fit the chassis layout developed for the ST2, making the exhaust camshaft installation more compact. Sort of a semi-testastretta, maybe, and I believe they also used it on the intriguing SuperMono. Once they had done it, there would appear to be enough space to fit a decent front mudguard, but they still left it very short. I’ve fitted a model-specific Fenda Extenda from Pyramid in Lincoln, (www.pyramid-plastics.co.uk), which keeps a little more of the road muck off the front cylinder-head and radiator. Be warned, however, that the Extenda can make contact with both these items if the front forks are fully-compressed. Having found the tell-tale marks, I’ve removed and reattached it so that it runs much closer to the tyre (1/2”, rather than 1 ¼” as before), and primed and painted it red, to match the rest of the guard. The ‘legs’ of the guard are now painted metallic anthracite to lighten the look of the front of the bike, accentuate the peak of the guard, and complement the shape and finish of the screen.

Pyramid’s Fenda Extenda, fitted tight to the tyre

The Fenda Extenda looks much better attached with polyurethane mastic (such as TigerSeal, www.U-POL.com) rather than self-tappers. The rest of the tube of mastic has come in useful all over the bike, including sticking a pre-preg CF protector and some rubber edge-beading to the petrol tank, making special blanking plugs to cover the top of the fork adjusters, bedding the ProOiler reed switch to the rear caliper mount, making in-situ seat-base buffers and in mods to the tail-light.

It’s worth knowing that Desmoparts in Texas (www.DesmoParts.com) supply the best-value sets of stainless screws to be had, even when you include carriage charges worldwide. I’ve not found that I’ve needed to take my fairing off frequently enough to go to the trouble of fitting Dzus fasteners. Instead, I use an electric screwdriver with a very light clutch setting to run the screws in and out. This is not only much easier than a hex key, but they line up with the well-nuts much quicker. I do still finish the tightening by hand to prevent pullthrough.

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I hope this account will be of interest to current and prospective ST owners. Yahoo’s excellent Ducati ST2 web-group is an absolutely invaluable forum and source of support http://autos.groups.yahoo.com/group/st2_owners/, and DesmoTimes in Florida (www.desmotimes.com) also publish good practical information.

Nick Woods, Norfolk, UK, 2007