A Ducati Without the Drama

There’s something radically unpretentious about the Sixty2. Parked next to a Panigale or a Streetfighter, it doesn’t peacock. But that’s the charm. It makes you smile even before you thumb the starter. No overwhelming bulk. No backlit switchgear orchestra asking you to choose ride modes. Just a single-cylinder-esque vibe from a 399cc L-twin, ready to breathe easy.

But don’t mistake friendliness for softness.

The moment I pulled away from the hotel near Sawai Madhopur, navigating through early morning fog and startled langurs on the roadside, the bike immediately communicated its essence. At 40 horsepower and 34 Nm of torque, it doesn’t surge, it glides. That’s not a euphemism for sluggishness, the powerband is responsive, especially above 5,000 rpm. But it’s never shouty. It doesn’t yank. Instead, it nudges, encourages. Like a seasoned companion rather than a high-strung date.

Through the Curves of Bundi

Past Ranthambore, heading toward Bundi, the roads begin to roll. Curves stretch across mustard fields and climb gentle hills. Here, the Scrambler’s 41mm Showa forks and Kayaba rear monoshock came alive. I didn’t expect it to feel so planted. You hear “budget suspension” and assume compromise. But Ducati’s geometry makes this chassis feel telepathic on twisties.

I dropped into sweeping bends at 80 km/h and the Sixty2 responded with a kind of eager calm. The trellis frame, sturdy and predictable, offered just enough flex to keep things entertaining without ever going vague. There’s no quickshifter here. No cornering ABS. Just tactile connection. The six-speed gearbox is crisp, and clutch action light enough for a whole day in second gear if needed.

And that’s where it shines, it doesn’t need much. Just you, the road, and maybe a few passing goats.

Suspensions are wow

I hit a patch of broken tarmac near Bhilwara. Narrow village roads, off-camber corners, and random gravel mounds that looked like they’d been dumped by accident. This is the kind of road that makes many bikes feel nervous, or worse, overconfident. But the Sixty2 carried its 183 kg wet weight with an unflappable poise. The 18-inch front and 17-inch rear Pirellis are not knobbies, but they grip with quiet assurance.

The suspension isn’t plush like an ADV, but it’s forgiving. It takes potholes and light trails with a shrug. I even dropped into a dry streambed near Mandal just to test its scrambler claim. With careful throttle and a bit of body-English, the Sixty2 clambered through with grace. Nothing scraped. Nothing complained.

It’s not a rally bike. But it doesn’t pretend to be one. And that’s refreshing.

Engine Character and the Ducati Pulse

Ducati has always been about emotion through mechanics. And while the Sixty2 lacks the raucous urgency of its big brothers, it delivers something rare: restraint with soul.

At idle, the L-twin lopes along with a soft but distinct thump. At 6,000 rpm, it finds a happy zone, pulling confidently in third and fourth without straining. Above 8,000 rpm, you hit the ceiling, but rarely does the bike ask to live up there. Unlike peaky Japanese singles in the same weight class, the Sixty2 feels alive across the rev range. Torque delivery is linear, almost meditative.

And that soundtrack? A mellow baritone, never harsh, never tinny. Just enough to make every village tunnel an invitation to crack the throttle and grin.

Ergonomics, Saddle Hours, and the Open Aravallis

Seat height is 790 mm, which worked well for my 5’10” frame. Shorter riders might find it a stretch at first, especially on uneven ground, but the narrow waist helps. The upright bars and mid-set pegs gave me a relaxed triangle, one that made the 600+ km ride to Udaipur entirely plausible in a single push, if I had wanted to.

But I didn’t.

I stopped often. To watch monkeys leap between neem trees. To sip chai at a dhaba near Chittorgarh Fort. To sit by a dry lakebed and just breathe.

And not once did the bike fatigue me. Even the stock seat, while not plush, was firm enough for hours in the saddle without complaint. Wind protection? None. But honestly, on this bike, the wind belongs. You lean into it, become part of the landscape.

Real-World Details That Matter

The lack of a fuel gauge is annoying. You rely on a trip meter and instinct. The 14-liter tank gave me a range of around 320 km, with fuel economy hovering at 26-28 km/L depending on pace. That’s fair, but in Rajasthan’s long, lonely stretches, I refueled every 200 km just to be safe.

Luggage is another matter. With no stock mounting points, you’ll need to get creative. I used a tank bag and a throw-over tail pack, which did the job, but longer trips will demand more setup.

And yes, it runs best on premium fuel. Finding 91-octane in remote Rajasthan wasn’t easy. I carried an octane booster just in case.

Rolling into Udaipur

As I approached Udaipur, with its mirror lakes and palaces glowing in the late light, the Scrambler felt more like a trusted old notebook than a machine. It had been scribbled with dust, laughter, engine heat, and unexpected detours.

This wasn’t a ride to test the bike.

It was a ride that revealed the bike’s truth.

The Scrambler Sixty2 is not for everyone. It’s not for specs-chasers, not for thrill-seekers obsessed with speed or lap times. It’s for people who want to connect with roads. Who value feedback over features. Who prefer simplicity over sophistication. It’s for people who don’t mind taking the long way home

Technical Specification

Specification	Ducati Scrambler Sixty2
Engine Type	Air-cooled, 4-stroke L-twin, SOHC
Displacement	399 cc
Bore x Stroke	72 mm × 49 mm
Maximum Power	40 hp @ 8,750 rpm
Maximum Torque	34 Nm @ 8,000 rpm
Transmission	6-speed manual
Frame	Tubular steel trellis
Front Suspension	41 mm Showa fork
Rear Suspension	Kayaba mono-shock
Front Brake	320 mm disc with ABS
Rear Brake	245 mm disc with ABS
Fuel Tank Capacity	14 liters
Seat Height	790 mm
Wet Weight	183 kg
Tyres	110/80 R18 (front), 160/60 R17 (rear)

Conclusion

As I rolled into Udaipur, with its lakes glowing under the setting sun and the last hills behind me, the Scrambler Sixty2 felt like an extension of my thoughts. No, it didn’t roar. It didn’t shatter speed records or eat up endless highways without stopping. But it did something more important, it made every kilometer meaningful. The gravel trail from Ranthambore, the narrow village roads where school kids waved, the silent temples where I parked it under neem trees, all of that felt more alive because of how the Sixty2 behaves. It’s not an adrenaline machine. It’s a soulful partner. In an age where motorcycles try to be everything, the Scrambler Sixty2 is content just being itself. And maybe that’s what makes it unforgettable.