I was doomscrolling online before bed and that’s where I saw it. The Iconic Motorbikes Instagram page had a new listing: a 2004 Ducati Monster S4R. Termignoni shotgun pipes, a dry clutch, a single-sided swingarm, and all of the Italian character and temperament amplified by the fact that it was 22 years old.
I always wanted a Ducati Monster but was never in a position to get one. This particular bike was one I'd always admired from afar. Something about the Ducati race-kit shotgun exhaust and raw aggression of the bike sure made it desirable for a kid who failed out of community college and didn’t have two nickels to rub together. My clapped-out GSX-R 750 would have to do. Twenty-two years later, I am happy to say it still looks like it did all those years ago. Was it a smart purchase? Absolutely not. Old Ducatis aren’t Hondas, but then again reliability is just a scam sold to us to buy boring bikes. So I bought it.
For those that don’t know, the Monster S4R took Ducati’s iconic 996 Superbike engine and stuffed it into a naked bike chassis. Retuned for more torque and mid-range grunt. Stoplight to stoplight, you feel it too. It’s far from the newest, fastest thing on the road, but off the line? Yeah, it’s a lot to handle in the best way possible. No traction control, no riding modes, no gyroscopes, just old-school Italian muscle. The sound is intoxicating and even the way it backfires during downshifts makes me smirk like I just broke the law.
Does it have some drawbacks? Yes, the bar switches need to be replaced as they don’t always make contact and it’s an old Ducati so I just know something is going to break on it. Servicing sure is expensive, but you gotta buy the ticket to take the ride. The first thing I did was get it professionally serviced with new belts and tires. I had all of the fluids changed as well. It’s best to be proactive with something like this as it’s still a Ducati which means expensive repairs. Maybe there is something to boring reliability after all? That being said, all old bikes are gonna have some odds and ends you’ve got to keep an eye on. This particular example was well maintained and taken care of. It was part of a collection owned by a guy who loved fast, interesting bikes.
I had it delivered from California to Denver. After it was unloaded from the truck, I threw a leg over it and rode it the block and a half back to my place. I was hooked. I immediately knew I’d made the right bad decision. A lifetime of riding inline-fours, finally broken. I remember thinking to myself, “I get all these twin guys now.”
I ordered new bar switches, bar-end mirrors, and an open clutch cover because loud clutches save lives—or whatever the Harley guys say. None of these things will make the S4R look or perform like a new bike, but that’s the point. New bikes are fantastic, and their performance is absolutely mind-blowing, but better doesn’t always mean more interesting. Sometimes all that technology sands away the rough edges that make a motorcycle memorable. It can feel like seeing an apex predator at the zoo: it’s still big, fast, and dangerous, but it’s behind glass and you experience it from a safe distance.
Sometimes you want the heavier, slower bike that rattles, backfires, and gives you a little anxiety when you’re too far from home. The S4R is loud, imperfect, temperamental, and occasionally expensive. It may leave me stranded one day, but every time I hear the bark of the Termi pipes and that unusual dry-clutch rattle that makes onlookers think it’s about to blow up, I know I made the right bad decision. Reliability matters. Interesting matters more. Sometimes the bad idea is the right one.
Got a bike that makes no sense on paper but makes perfect sense every time you ride it? Tell us about your best bad motorcycle decision in the comments. Bonus points if it leaks, rattles, or occasionally refuses to start.