Triumph Scrambler 900 2026 Review: Road-Tested and Rider-Approved

Arriving in California with a mind full of preconceptions is almost inevitable when you're somewhat familiar with the current bike and have an idea of what the changes might entail.

In my mind, the whole thing seemed pretty straightforward, almost cynical: What could have changed so drastically that it warranted setting up a presentation in the USA? And considering how my Street Scrambler behaves, I honestly didn't believe I would notice any significant difference.

I thought I was dealing with a more conservative generation. A typical update in the "new paint, new styling" category, meant to comply with regulations and refresh the catalog. But I was wrong. The sum of small changes actually had a much bigger impact than I expected. And the worst part is: After hundreds of kilometers, I still don't know whether I should be pleased about it or not.

The test kicked off under conditions that hardly fit the typical California postcard: just over ten degrees and a fog so thick you could barely make out the lines of the new Scrambler 900. But being used to riding around the Danube and in the mountains of Austria or Central Europe, this was nothing new for me. As always, the first thing I did was crank the heated grips to the max. Optional according to the catalog, mandatory for me.

When I fired up the engine, I noticed something that might not stand out to a new Scrambler rider but can surprise someone like me, who's been riding a Street Scrambler for years: the throttle response.

With the previous generation, which is my bike, I always had this slightly sluggish feeling at the start. The first few millimeters of throttle twist weren't immediately answered by the engine, as if there was a brief negotiation between the throttle grip, the throttle valve, and the ECU. Never truly bothersome, nothing to complain about—it's something you're familiar with on many bikes. But I have to emphasize this to help you understand my initial surprise.

In the 2026 model, this sluggishness is gone. The response is immediate, direct, almost telepathic. This tuning allows for scalpel-like precision when controlling the rev range. You can manipulate the bike's sound to your liking. And this sound is, without exaggeration, highly addictive. Perhaps the best stock exhaust note in years. The growl is deep but has a rough, almost crisp texture that accompanies you with every downshift and throttle twist.

At our first stop, I was so convinced that this exhaust couldn't possibly be stock that I bombarded Stuart Wood, the chief engineer of the Bonneville range, with questions. "Stuart, this can't be what you're planning to sell in Europe," I said. He, completely at ease and with the confidence of a man who knows he's done stellar work, assured me that what I'm hearing is exactly what's going into European dealerships. Apart from the side reflectors, the US version's daytime running lights, and a few minor details. An acoustic masterpiece that could be the work of Hans Zimmer.

Once we left the fog behind and hit the flowing roads through the Californian valleys, the bike revealed its true secret: a nimbleness you wouldn't expect. On paper—a Scrambler with Metzeler Tourance tires, a 19-inch front wheel, and weighing in at 220 kilos—shouldn't be this agile. But it is.

Stuart Wood explained to me why this has fundamentally changed. It's not a single measure, but rather a true open-heart surgery on the chassis.

The diet of rotating masses: The bike has shed two kilos, but not just anywhere. The new aluminum swingarm and especially the new cast wheels make the motorcycle noticeably more eager to turn.

The new Showa frontend: Say goodbye to the classic telescopic fork. Now, a 120-mm upside-down fork from Showa is installed, along with matching preload-adjustable rear shocks, also by Showa. The connection to the road feels more direct and, I would even say, more comfortable than the previous KYB, which was never uncomfortable but reached its limits faster.

The new ergonomics: The handlebar is the big surprise of this model. It's flatter but, more importantly, 21.4 millimeters wider overall—10.7 mm per side—and slightly higher. This increased leverage makes turning and directional changes noticeably more intuitive.

The braking system has also been revamped. Triumph has moved away from the Brembo calipers used in recent years and now opts for J.Juan. For hardcore Italophile fans, this might seem almost sacrilegious, but in practice, the bite and modulation are absolutely at the level expected from this bike. They do their job well, without being revolutionary, and you miss neither stronger braking power nor a second disc.

By midday, we stopped at the base of a massive US flag to snap a few photos and do some reflecting. There's no denying that the Scrambler 900 has become sharper.

The design appears more modern, sportier, and for many, more distant. The integration of the digital cockpit—the same as on the Trident 660 or the Speed Twin 900—is the most obvious point of contention. It's functional, allows for smartphone connectivity, and displays all the info from the new IMU, including cornering ABS and lean-sensitive traction control. But where has the charm of the analog dials gone?

The rear frame has also become slimmer, which poses a challenge for those wanting to reuse accessories from older models, like the short license plate holder or other mounts.

Another detail has changed too. The previous generation had a screwed fuel cap—a system that looked consistent but could cause long-term issues. On my own bike, I've experienced paint damage and chipping at this exact friction point. In the 2026 model, the cap is no longer screwed on, and in my opinion, the new solution is much more premium.

It's a motorcycle that clearly looks to the future, aiming to attract a younger audience that appreciates connectivity and striking lines—but it risks leaving the retro enthusiasts somewhat behind.

Looking back, the development of the Scrambler has always been characterized by constant change. From the air-cooled models to the introduction of fuel injection, the shift to liquid cooling in 2017, and the Euro-5 adaptation in 2019. But the leap in 2026 is the most radical in terms of identity. The concept of "Modern" was clearly prioritized over "Classic." Even the logo was changed, now featuring the black triangle instead of the old vintage script.

Personally, I'm in a real dilemma. If this were my own machine, I wouldn't spend a single euro on different suspension components or an aftermarket exhaust. Both are simply perfect from the factory.

Dynamically, it is better in all areas than its predecessors. It doesn't feel top-heavy, absorbs bumps with surprising quality, and allows for significantly brisker paces without pushing the chassis to its limits.

Visually, however, it doesn't grab me like the earlier generations. These color schemes and the digital display make it difficult for me to really warm up to it at the moment.

Fortunately, the price has remained unchanged, and the Triumph Scrambler 900 is, for me, one of the most versatile and attractive motorcycles on the market in 2026, despite its modern twist. However, if Triumph offered a paint scheme in the blue and black tones of the stunning Bobber 2026, I'd have a serious dilemma.

I'd have to think very carefully about how to justify swapping one Scrambler for another. If it visually appealed to me a bit more, I would have no qualms about parting with the analog tachometer in exchange for those wheels, that handlebar, and the option of cruise control. Triumph has built an exceptionally good machine here—a precise tool for flowing country roads and idyllic valleys, without having to worry about hitting the dirt.