The wrong tool for the job: A Ducati Scrambler story

The Ducati Scrambler I was riding had no handguards. A mushy rear brake. No skid plate. An oil filter hanging approximately four inches above the ground. And tires I would barely consider “knobbies.” What the hell was I doing? You might be wondering the same thing. Allow me to explain.

RevZilla hosted the first-ever Get On! Adventure Festival in July in South Dakota. This was a rally focused on riding and something many of us here at RevZilla have been wanting for a very long time. And while I don’t own an ADV bike, I was certainly not going to miss RevZilla’s first ADV Fest. So, I loaded up my KTM 350 EXC and hauled it approximately 26 hours to South Dakota for the event.

If you don’t know anything about the KTM 350 EXC, it’s a street-legal dirt bike and it's a very capable machine for dirt and trail riding. In fact, it was actually a little too capable and that’s the main reason I found myself aboard the Ducati Scrambler.

Sturgis ain't just for Harleys

The first day I arrived at Sturgis, I met up with the usual suspects, Jeff, Liz, and Spurgeon. We geared up and set out to ride some trails that hadn’t been ridden yet so we could inspect them and bring back some insight to share with fellow riders signed up for the event. During this ride, I quickly realized that the 350 was overqualified for the job.

The trails were not boring. The scenery was absolutely beautiful, but the trails were wide and geared towards larger ADV bikes, as they should be considering it was, well... an ADV event. Meanwhile, I was on a light enduro bike more suited to single-track, steep hill climbs and other tight stuff. To spice up the ride, I was trying to jump every rock, log, or simply wheelie over anything and everything in sight.

“Well Brandon," Spurgeon commented, "this is what happens when you bring a gun to a knife fight.”

There was an alternative, however. Patrick, our colleague at J&P Cycles, lives in Sturgis and has a shop full of motor tooters. He offered up his Ducati Scrambler the day before, which was incredibly tempting from the get-go. But I figured it’d be best to ride the trails a bit before I just hopped on a machine I’m not too familiar with and started beating it up. Plus, I did haul the KTM 26 hours to Sturgis. 

We got back to camp after scouting the trails and I immediately reached out to Patrick about picking up his Ducati Scrambler. I told him I needed something a bit more challenging to ride and at the time, I didn’t quite know what I was getting myself into. I think Spurgeon probably had a better idea than I did and I’m sure he was internally laughing knowing I was about to receive a sizable handicap for these trails. He’s the worst.

The wrong tool for the job (not me, the bike...)

The following morning, Spurgeon and I met up with Patrick to snag the bike. To be honest, I was a bit nervous. This was a bike I’ve never ridden before and I was about to take it on some long days of trail riding. The bike had no handguards. Almost no rear brake (it felt like mashed potatoes). No skid plate. An unprotected oil filter hanging approximately four inches above the ground. And finally, the riding position. While it was comfy on the tarmac, it wasn't the best riding position for standing on the pegs all day. 

With all that said, as soon as he fired up the bike, I was hooked! It sounded like a mini monster truck. It was completely wrong for the job and I couldn’t wait to destroy it! 

I saddled up on the Scrambler, headed to our AirBnB to gear up, and then rode to base camp to meet our fellow riders. As I rolled in, I got a nice chuckle watching everyone stare at Patrick’s machine as it roared through the campground. Needless to say, the bike was met with a lot of attention and puzzled faces.

After we finished the riders meeting that morning and discussed some of the trail options with fellow riders, it was time to see how the next 100 miles of trail were going to feel on this little two-wheeled monster truck. Almost immediately, at the first trailhead, I encountered the rocky uphill ride I described above and things got spicy pretty quick. Standing on the footpegs was a bit awkward because they positioned my feet in a way that put me in a very bowlegged stance. So much so that later in the day a rider informed me that I really shouldn’t ride that way.

I chuckled a bit and then walked him over to the bike so he could see the footpegs. He threw a leg over the bike, stood up on the pegs and let out a good laugh. “I have no idea how you’re riding this thing out here,” he said.

That hill climb was very telling in regards to what was in store for me the rest of the day. I remember thinking to myself, “Welp, I no longer have a gun for this knife fight. I think I’ve got, uh, a spoon.”

When I was on the KTM the day before and I'd wished for a little more of a challenge, now I had my wish, and I was loving it. I had to focus on the terrain and line choice was everything. Not that it shouldn't be any time you're on the trails, but with the Ducati, the stakes were much higher.

That low-hanging oil filter was pretty much the only thing Patrick cautioned me about. It’s protected by nothing. A few weeks prior, Patrick actually tore an oil filter right off the bike and had to hike about 10 miles before he found any cell service to phone his lady for rescue. Patrick is a wild man on a bike, so if he cautions you about anything, I recommend listening. (He’s also a real sweetheart but I’d never tell him that.)

At one point, Spurgeon and I were taking a few photos, as one does to look cool for the internet, and one particular fly-by didn't go well. I lofted the front wheel and heard a nice big “crunch” when it met the ground. I nearly soiled myself. My initial thought wasn't the oil filter. All I could think about was our colleague, Stevan, who recently cracked his engine case and a few other odds and ends after riding his brand new KTM just four times.

I pulled over immediately and started looking for signs of crunched parts. Right away, I could see the smashed oil filter and I let out a sigh of relief. I was happy to discover the engine case was perfectly fine and the oil filter wasn’t completely destroyed. No leaks, it just took a bit of a hit and was slightly dented. From that moment on, I kept the wheelies to a minimum and did everything I could to avoid smacking the oil filter. If you were riding behind me at the Get On! ADV Fest, just know I don’t normally ride like I’m getting shot around a pinball machine. But with low clearances and a lot of off-camber terrain, I had to do some funky maneuvering to avoid smashing parts.

After the first day of riding, I felt pretty comfortable on the Scrambler and I can happily say I didn’t drop it once. That’s not to say I didn’t have quite a few “oh shit” moments. One time in particular, I was going through a small amount of water that quickly turned into super slippery mud. Somehow, both my feet got bucked off the pegs, my chest was on the handlebar, and with my feet up in the air, the moto gods smiled upon me, kept the bike upright and brought my feet back to the pegs. I still don’t know what happened or how I didn’t completely lose it. 

(Insert sarcasm here) Flat tires are awesome! 

In addition to all the fun we had on the trails, the stretches of time we spent on the tarmac were just as enjoyable. The rolling Black Hills of South Dakota are absolutely incredible. On the road, the Ducati Scrambler was far more comfortable and capable at 60 mph and much more fun than feeling the KTM 350’s rim locks bouncing through the wheels and up my spine. Having made it through trails that felt like a test I was destined to fail, I was looking forward to some casual street riding.

Patrick, the very man whose bike I was beating up, decided to lead a group of riders up to Mount Rushmore for a fun, relaxing ride on some pavement. Naturally, Patrick was hauling the mail aboard his KTM 690 SMC and of course I had to keep up with him because ego. We were pushing it, to say the least and then... we weren’t. We stopped for a quick snack break at a gas station and just as we were saddling up to get moving again, we noticed the rear tire on the Ducati was flat.

After all the crazy trail riding we did, all the “oh shit” moments I had, all the jagged rocks I rode over — I got a flat riding on the street. I honestly couldn’t believe it. I then realized I made a pretty significant mistake before we set out on the tarmac that day. Anyone want to take a guess what that mistake was? I’ll save the answer for the comment section and see if anyone got it right.

Luckily, I was with the most well prepared group of riders I’ve ever been with to change a flat tire and somehow it still managed to take us two hours. Mainly because the gas station where we'd stopped didn't have an air compressor and we didn’t have a portable compressor strong enough to set the bead, but damn did we try. Thanks again to everyone who helped out with that. We finally got one bead to set but couldn't get that second pop. 

So, we decided it would be best to mount up the wheel and limp the Ducati to the next gas station in hopes of finding a capable air compressor. I started well ahead of the group, knowing it was going to be about 10 stressful miles and I was going to be moving fairly slow. I could feel a pretty aggressive wobble in the tire and I was terrified that at any moment it was going to tear off the rim. I finally made it to the gas station, walked in and asked if they had an air compressor. The cashier said no. At this point, I felt a bit defeated. 

I’d already held up a group of about 15 or so riders for two hours because of my flat tire and I absolutely hated being “that guy.” So, I just said “f**k it” and once the group started showing up, I waved them past the gas station and told them to keep going. I hopped in the back of the line and just rode it as carefully as possible. I thought that first 10 miles was stressful, how about riding all the way up to Mount Rushmore and back with half of your tire ready to tear off the rim? Guess I should have stayed on the trails...

Again, somehow, the moto gods smiled upon me and I was finally able to make it to a gas station with an air compressor. As soon as I heard that second “pop,” I felt like a piano fell off my back. I could now ride without fear of eating shit at every corner.

We made it back to camp that day, pretty exhausted from the ride and the two-hour tire changing detour, but we were still full of smiles. Well, I was smiling at least. The tire stayed on the rim and I didn’t go skating across the concrete, so I was happy.

Overall, the event was a huge success and this little aside about riding the Ducati Scrambler was just a fraction of the fun that was had. I had a blast meeting and riding with new people and there are far more stories, crashes and craziness to share, but you’ll have to sign up for next year's event to experience it for yourself.

If someone tells you can’t ride “that” bike to that event, or you can’t take your bike across the country, “it’s too small” or “you can’t ride a Ducati Scrambler on those trails,” I’m here to tell you to “run what you brung” and have some fun. Let others provide their opinions, thank them for the advice and then wheelie past them when you get on the trails.

Sometimes having the wrong tool for the job is exactly what you need — said no one ever. But that doesn't mean it's never true.