Harleys rule, okay? You limey idiots don't know a good thing when it hits you between the eyes. I'm sick and tired of y'all slagging off these great American machines. They can't make enough of them to meet demand. For the very good reason that they are the best motorcycles in the world. At what they do!
And what they do is cruise the wide open roads of America! Whether it's the little old Sportster or the big old Wideglide, they define a certain kinda motorcycle experience. The rumbling vee twin mill is pure meat, man. Ya triple whammy of the motorcycle world.
They hardly ever need use of the gearbox once on the open road. Just play the throttle out gently. Feel the massive overabundance of torque feed in. Pulsating not vibrating, y'all mind! Controls that need a bit of muscle to master. And a feel on the road as intractable as the average buffalo. None of that twitchy front end nonsense of the normal Japanese bolide.
The centre of any Harley's its motor. Made from an excess of simple components, assembled with religious adherence to the faith. They mesh, sing together, in a way that none of the Jap companies have matched. Every machine distils a bit of the soul of the men who built it. Every one slightly different in character.
None of the lightweight Japanese philosophy that falls apart as soon as you hit something. Whack a Harley into an auto right, it's the car that will come off worse. People say Harleys don't handle and brake, but that's just because they don't know how to muscle them into submission. Just watch how the cops handle them!
My favourite ever Harley was an Electraglide, circa 1989, that I'd bought from new. That sickle was put together nicely. It'd bull its way along the road, eating up the ribbon of tarmac without needing silly speeds to keep the rider sated. Character poured out of its every nuance, more of a best mate than a motorcycle. I had a lot more joy from that piece of metal than I ever had from the wife.
More fun doing 60mph on that Harley than doing twice that on some Japanese abortion. Man and machine merged into an embrace that was sensual and almost surreal. Sounds bullshit on paper but get out on the road, experience the real thing, y'all will see what I mean. Even the Jap vee-twin cruisers don't come close to the Harley's beat. Something in its genes, man.
Another favourite Harley was a tuned 1200 Sportster. That little old motherf..ker could shift. Haul your arms right out of their sockets. Pure torque, man! I admit it, I even had to upgrade the front brake and rear shocks. Not that it was dangerous - not really - just that sometimes it was a bit of a heavy workout. You soon get used to pushing Sportster's until the rubber goes all squirmy.
Harleys are tough old hogs. Even when they fail they are easy to rebuild, loads of cheap spares and hop-up kits available in the States. Own one for a decade, or more, improve it to your own taste as you go along. Most Americans don't consider them finished motorcycles but the base upon which they can use their own imagination to build their dream machine.
Don't dismiss them lightly, learn to love and nurture them. Or else!
And what they do is cruise the wide open roads of America! Whether it's the little old Sportster or the big old Wideglide, they define a certain kinda motorcycle experience. The rumbling vee twin mill is pure meat, man. Ya triple whammy of the motorcycle world.
They hardly ever need use of the gearbox once on the open road. Just play the throttle out gently. Feel the massive overabundance of torque feed in. Pulsating not vibrating, y'all mind! Controls that need a bit of muscle to master. And a feel on the road as intractable as the average buffalo. None of that twitchy front end nonsense of the normal Japanese bolide.
The centre of any Harley's its motor. Made from an excess of simple components, assembled with religious adherence to the faith. They mesh, sing together, in a way that none of the Jap companies have matched. Every machine distils a bit of the soul of the men who built it. Every one slightly different in character.
None of the lightweight Japanese philosophy that falls apart as soon as you hit something. Whack a Harley into an auto right, it's the car that will come off worse. People say Harleys don't handle and brake, but that's just because they don't know how to muscle them into submission. Just watch how the cops handle them!
My favourite ever Harley was an Electraglide, circa 1989, that I'd bought from new. That sickle was put together nicely. It'd bull its way along the road, eating up the ribbon of tarmac without needing silly speeds to keep the rider sated. Character poured out of its every nuance, more of a best mate than a motorcycle. I had a lot more joy from that piece of metal than I ever had from the wife.
More fun doing 60mph on that Harley than doing twice that on some Japanese abortion. Man and machine merged into an embrace that was sensual and almost surreal. Sounds bullshit on paper but get out on the road, experience the real thing, y'all will see what I mean. Even the Jap vee-twin cruisers don't come close to the Harley's beat. Something in its genes, man.
Another favourite Harley was a tuned 1200 Sportster. That little old motherf..ker could shift. Haul your arms right out of their sockets. Pure torque, man! I admit it, I even had to upgrade the front brake and rear shocks. Not that it was dangerous - not really - just that sometimes it was a bit of a heavy workout. You soon get used to pushing Sportster's until the rubber goes all squirmy.
Harleys are tough old hogs. Even when they fail they are easy to rebuild, loads of cheap spares and hop-up kits available in the States. Own one for a decade, or more, improve it to your own taste as you go along. Most Americans don't consider them finished motorcycles but the base upon which they can use their own imagination to build their dream machine.
Don't dismiss them lightly, learn to love and nurture them. Or else!
Ed Drake