My beef with Harley

It's an unfortunate truth of the internet that no matter what you say, somebody, somewhere will get upset about it. The persistence of that truth seems to increase roughly 1,000 percent when you say something about Harley-Davidson.

Doesn't matter what you say –– it can be good, it can be bad, it can be indifferent. You could make a seemingly innocuous statement like, "Harley-Davidson is a company based in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, that is best known for selling motorcycles," and someone will lose their mind.

"OMGWTFBBQ! THIS GUY IS SUCH AN IDIOT," an anonymous commenter will opine. "HE'S OBVIOUSLY BEING PAID BY THE COMPETITION!"

I don't really like that this is a truth of the internet, but it is. So, when a few people took issue with some of the things I wrote in a recent review of the Harley-Davidson Street Glide Special, I didn't really pay much attention. Haters gonna hate, after all.

But then RideApart's creative director, Jim Downs, brought it up with me in an email conversation.

"Playing devil's advocate, I have to ask," he wrote. "What's your beef with them?"

It was a question that knocked me back a little, because the short answer to his question is: none. I have no beef. After all, I first found RideApart (the site I now write for primarily) many years ago while in the process of searching for articles about the Iron 883, a bike that I loved the look of so much it made me want to return to motorcycling after a few years break.

When I eventually rode one, I was considerably less enthusiastic about the bike, but I still get all dreamy eyed every time I see one on the road. I'm like that for most Harley-Davidson motorcycles; I really like the looks of them. As I wrote of the Street Glide Special: "It looks fantastic. This is a motorcycle upon which any sane human being wants to be seen."

In that same review, I also wrote: "Riding a Harley is like riding a tractor. [And] riding a tractor is awesome."

Which, to me, isn't an attack — unless the definition of "awesome" has changed since I left the United States 10 years ago. I did have some criticisms of the bike, but that's part of a review: You look for things that might become issues to the people who eventually shell out thousands of dollars/pounds/euros/darseks for a bike. But, for the sake of answering Jim fully, I decided to sit back and ask myself, honestly: Am I, in some way, biased against Harley-Davidson?

I think it's impossible to write about motorcycles without some kind of bias. Otherwise every article would just be a list of numbers. The trick to writing honestly, I think, is adjusting your bias to favor the motorcycle-in-question's stated strengths. For example, no one ever complains that a BMW S1000RR isn't suitable for off-road trails, or that a Honda Goldwing can't do the Kessel run in 12 parsecs. We don't expect those things.

So, the real question is not whether I'm biased, but whether I'm failing to adequately adjust my bias when assessing a Harley-Davidson. Am I expecting things that shouldn't be expected? Well, I don't know. To me, if you sell a motorcycle for more than US $23,000 and you tell people that it is "plush, top-end touring technology," that's kind of what I expect.

My experience was that the bike in question didn't meet those expectations. It was uncomfortable and not up to the given task of touring. Even there I didn't feel I was being excessively harsh. I went so far as to point out that my experience might be unique (my 6-foot-1 frame is apparently beyond the target audience of Harley ergonomics) and suggest that if a rider's expectations were different than my own — if he or she planned to use the bike less for touring and more for stylin' and profilin' — it might still be worth the asking price.

I feel my expectations were fair. Or, would have been fair if I had been riding any other bike... But it's not any other bike, is it?

A Harley-Davidson is a wholly unique thing, and perhaps to assess it you have to do so in a wholly unique way. Maybe part of the unique way is to be consumed of the same mindset that makes so many of its customers so vociferously loyal. You have to be able to place yourself under the Harley spell.

Because I was uncomfortable, because the bike hurt my lower back and gave me a headache, I wasn't really able to do that. I wasn't able to connect on a metaphysical level, and as a result, was left to evaluate the bike as just a material thing.

So, whereas I don't possess a bias against Harley-Davidson products, I equally lack a bias in favor of them. And perhaps, for some people, that is the real problem. Because part of the Harley experience is being wrapped in the Harley mystique, having the faith.

If I have a "beef" with Harley-Davidson, then, maybe it's that I don't get it; I'm unable to comprehend the emotions that lead other people to get tattoos of this corporation's logo. And maybe –– maybe –– because of that, I'm jealous. I'm annoyed that I don't feel the spirit.

I use religious allusions because, in a way, the whole thing reminds me of when I joined a church group in college. I did that primarily because there was an extraordinarily gorgeous girl in the group whose Kentucky drawl and affinity for tight jeans absolutely melted my brain. And ohmygoodness the way she moved! To me, she was clear evidence there must be some kind of God.

But the group's interpretation of that God was something I didn't jive with, its focus too narrow for my tastes. And as a result, I never really connected with any of them. While they were jumping around and shouting, I was thinking: "This music is kind of basic. This chapel is a little cold."

Unable to get myself to feel whatever they were feeling, I was left to assess it all as just a material experience, which of course meant I was missing the point. And that annoyed me enough that I was eventually able to convince myself it would never work out between myself and the gorgeous girl — even if she hadn't been dating a point guard.

Such is the case with the Church of Jesus Harley Latter-day Davidson, I suppose. I don't quite get it. I get cruisers, and ohmygoodness some Harleys look cool, but the thing that's not there, the thing that you can't attach a number to, the thing that would make me reach for my wallet, is the thing I'm missing.

I don't hold that against the faithful, though. I mean, what's wrong with loving a thing? The whole point of this website is that it's for people who love bikes. If a certain segment of those people love one brand of bike considerably more, well, they're welcome to do so.

That I don't feel that way isn't a beef, though. It's just lack of belief.

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This June I'll be taking part in the Royal British Legion Riders 1000 ride, helping to raise money for the Poppy Appeal. Please check out this page to learn more and donate in support of British veterans, currently serving military personnel, and their families.

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Ride Review: Harley-Davidson Street Glide Special

According to Harley-Davidson CEO Matt Levatich, roughly 80 percent of the bikes his company sells in the United States are touring models. Harley-Davidson sold 168,240 units in the U.S. market in 2015, which, according to my fuzzy math, works out to 134,592 touring bikes sold in a single year. 

That's more than the total number of motorcycles and scooters — of all brands — sold in the United Kingdom in the same period. Which speaks to the value of the touring segment for Harley, and why the company's Project Rushmore initiative of a few years ago was so important. Those big numbers may also help explain why seemingly every motorcycle I see when visiting my home state of Texas is a Street Glide.

They're far rarer here in Britain, though, so when an opportunity came up to spend a day with a 2016 Street Glide Special, I jumped at it. If nothing else, I was eager to see what my Texas brethren love so much about this iconic touring bagger.

First Impressions

There's no denying it looks cool, but upon swinging a leg over, the first thing that struck me about the Street Glide Special was how cramped its ergonomics were. I felt I was sitting in a Smart car. Apparently this is just the Harley-Davidson experience; I've been squished every other time I've ridden a Harley.

It's a strange and counterintuitive thing to feel so contorted on an infamously large and heavy bike. I've ridden cruisers from Indian, Victory, Triumph and Yamaha, and only Harley has ever left me feeling like a dad on his kid's Big Wheel. As a result, I can't help but think that an essential element of the bike is lost on me.

There's an implicit expectation in the Harley-Davidson experience that one should forgive less-than-amazing performance and braking for the sake of "character." This implicit expectation is at the heart of critics' disapproval of the brand. I don't mind it so much; I get the idea of character. But when I'm sitting like this, like an old lady on a mobility scooter, I don't feel cool. I feel silly.

Clearly, though, Harley thinks this rider triangle works, and no doubt it does for many people. I'm a lanky 6 feet 1 inch tall; if you are 5-foot-something, you may find this set up far more appealing.

Engine and Transmission

With history and heritage being one of the selling points of Harley-Davidson ownership, I decided it was appropriate to point the Street Glide Special toward Kidwelly Castle, a Norman fortress built more than 900 years ago.

Like most of Harley's bikes, the Street Glide Special employs a keyless fob system, which I think is cool. However, there's a steering lock/ignition switch that requires a key before the fob can be used, so I'm not entirely sure what the point is.

Nonetheless, once the bike started up I kind of didn't care. One of the primary complaints waged against Harley-Davidson products is that they feel agricultural. Indeed they do; riding a Harley is like riding a tractor. But something the haters neglect to mention is that riding a tractor is awesome.

Even with stock exhaust, the bike emits a deep, maniacal-laughter-inducing grumble at idle. The whole thing shakes with each kick of the pushrods. The experience is visceral. The happy truth of all internal-combustion-engined motorcycles is that you are effectively sitting on top of a metal box of explosions, but here you really feel it. You know it.

Initially, the experience is delightful. You ride around over-revving the engine just for kicks, and fighting the urge to shout: "Look at meeee!" Problems arise, however, when you attempt to use the Street Glide Special toward its stated purpose of touring.

Tackle a long stretch of highway and all that noise and shuddering will get on your nerves. Push the 1690cc air-cooled V-twin engine toward 80 mph and it fights you, desperate to lurch back to slower speeds. Keep fighting to make progress and you'll soon feel the engine's heat on your legs. The temperature was just 6ºC (or 43ºF) on the day I rode to Kidwelly, but by the end of my ride the heat pouring onto my right leg in particular was something close to painful.

The Street Glide Special's six-speed transmission is solid enough, each gear announced with the reassuring KATHUNK we've come to expect from cruiser transmissions. No real complaints beyond my feeling that first is too low and second too high. It's the sort of thing you could probably get used to, though. You'd have to also get used to an aching left hand, because clutch pull is anything but light.

Ride Quality and Brakes

Because the Victory Cross Country and Indian Chieftain were clearly styled to compete against the likes of a Street Glide Special, I frequently found myself comparing my experiences with those bikes to this one. And it was here that, for me, the Harley really fell short.

Suspension was subpar; handling was awkward at low speed and unsteady at high speed. Somewhere in the sweet spot between 30-60 mph, things were OK, but I still felt every bump and imperfection in the road being transmitted to my lower back. Pushing through corners was a full-body effort and, of course, the scraping of floorboards became part of the cacophony of sound when things got particularly twisty.

The weight of the bike never really went away. In some strange sense you can feel it even in the straights. But, I suppose, that contributes to a feeling of surefootedness you might want in a long-distance machine. Certainly within the 30-60 mph window the bike felt solid against an early-spring squall blowing in from the sea.

It was during that sudden deluge, however, that I discovered the Street Glide Special's stock Dunlop Multi-Tread tires are considerably less than great in the wet stuff. Not as awful as the Dunlop Elite 3s that are used on some other touring V-twins (e.g. the Victory Vision), but definitely not great. Feel from the tires was minimal and left me unwilling to lean too far into a turn.

Tires are something you eventually have to replace on a bike anyway, though, so I wouldn't necessarily allow the Dunlops' poor performance to affect my purchasing decision.

The Street Glide Special's brakes are decent enough, if a bit soft, but great googly-moogly does the front end dive when the bike's dual front discs are squeezed. It's a stereotype of cruiser riders that they don't use the front brake, but you certainly couldn't blame someone for such behavior if he or she were aboard this rocking horse. Meanwhile, ABS comes standard and is unobtrusive to the point of taking a fair bit of work to engage.

Comfort and Features

Since the Project Rushmore overhaul in 2014, one of the major selling points of the Street Glide Special has been its all-bells-and-whistles dash, centered around the touchscreen Boom! infotainment system (damn, I thought I was going to make it through this whole review without using Harley speak).

The dashboard is laid out well. However, the dials aren't terribly useful because the numbers are too small and the engine's shuddering blurs vision. The gear indicator is particularly hard to spot, and frustrating because it seems to need a second to think about each gear change. And the dashboard lights showing the signal/indicator are quite possibly the smallest I've encountered. You will need to be Screamin' Eagle Eyed to spot them.

The infotainment screen, though, is easily readable. It features an integrated GPS that is just a little outdated in fluidity and intuitiveness for my tastes. It reminded me of the system in my mother's Toyota Prius. But it's useful enough. The system's touchscreen doesn't work too brilliantly with thick gloves, but that means it doesn't get tricked by heavy rain.

I tend to think of stereos on motorcycles as sacrilegious and didn't spend much time investigating the Street Glide Special's sound system beyond discovering that its radio wasn't very good at holding signal. But the static was nice and loud. The dash has a space to plug in an MP3 player or other USB-compatible, phone-sized device. So, if you're eager to rock out on two wheels you can do so to a playlist of your own choosing.

Moving away from the dash, I will never, ever, ever, ever understand Harley's system for indicator switches. Whereas the vast majority of motorcycle brands place a single switch on the left grip to initiate and cancel signal/indicator lights, Harley places a switch on each side; the left switch for lights on the left, the right switch for lights on the right.

If you have never ridden a motorcycle before, you may think the Harley system makes sense. But, of course, it doesn't. In times when a rider is most likely to be using his or her turn signal he or she will be needing the right hand for throttle control and covering the brake. Adding a splayed thumb to this juggling act just to operate an indicator switch is stupid.

Because Harley-Davidson inspires a cult-like following, I have no doubt some of you will disagree with me vehemently on that point, and will somehow manage to suggest that my dislike of the system has something to do with my living in the country where Karl Marx chose to spend most of his life. You can say that, but you'll still be wrong.

Meanwhile, counter to its jarring suspension, the Street Glide Special's seat is comfy and cosseting. For the rider, at least. Not so much a passenger. If you want to ferry your significant other around, she or he had better be tiny and wearing rubber pants to keep from sliding off the back of the stylistically sloped rear of the seat.

The bike's fairing does a great job of keeping a rider protected from the elements. I was particularly surprised and impressed by the effectiveness of the Street Glide Special's tiny screen. A vent in the fairing pushes air up and creates a nice buffeting-free zone that works even in excess of the legal speed limit.

Panniers are slick and easy to open, but — perhaps commensurate to the amount of time a person would actually want to spend on the bike — aren't very big. There's probably enough luggage space for a weekend getaway, though. Assuming the place you're getting away to is hot and you don't mind wearing the same pair of shorts two days in a row.

Practicality

Practicality? With a Harley-Davidson? Hahahahahahahahahaha!!

I mean, yeah, I guess one could commute to work on a Street Glide Special if so inclined, but it wouldn't be my first, second or third choice of steed for such a job. Equally, it wouldn't be at the top of my list for long-distance touring. It is too heavy and awkward for serious urban use; too hot and shuddering for eating up the miles.

I'm not entirely sure that matters, though, since practicality isn't really a part of the Harley-Davidson mystique. No one buys these bikes expecting Honda reliability and utility; that's not what they're about.

Build Quality

Although I can find some flaws elsewhere, let's not pretend the Street Glide Special is anything other than a gorgeous machine. It looks fantastic. This is a motorcycle upon which any sane human being wants to be seen.

You may not want to pay for a Street Glide Special, may not want to spend your life with one as your only bike, but unless you are a card-carrying member of ISIS there is no way you can truthfully claim to not have at least some tiny desire to be seen on one.

This is true because when it comes to aesthetics Harley-Davidson does all the things right. Paint is deep. The chrome is shiny, but still looks cool covered in road grime. Everything feels sturdy and high-end. Even little things like the numbers on those not-actually-useful dials have a feeling of aesthetic care and attention.

Inevitably Harley-Davidson will have to develop retrofittable infotainment interfaces in a few years, but everything else has the feeling of an object you might want to turn into a family heirloom: something to give to the grandkids once you're done with it.

Final Verdict

Despite current signs of Harley-Davidson's weakening market grip in the face of competition, the company continues to be responsible for roughly half of the motorcycles sold in the United States with engines 601cc or greater. And several of its models remain among the top 10 best-selling bikes worldwide. All of which points to the fact that people are going to buy the Street Glide Special regardless of the fact it doesn't really do what it's supposed to do.

After a day with the bike, my lower back was screaming in pain and I had a headache that lasted into the next morning. Ultimately, I found I could not tolerate more than 60 miles of highway before needing to stop, stretch, and try to regain my bearings. This is not a good motorcycle for touring.

But if I were to tell this to my fellow Texans they would not care. By and large, most of them will not ride more than 100 miles in a day anyway, and far more will ride less. This "touring" bike will mostly be put to use traveling from beach to bar on comfortable weekend afternoons. And that's OK, because the Street Glide Special is a lot of fun in short bursts.

Yes, it could easily be beaten in speed, power, acceleration, cornering, comfort and touring ability by any number of bikes that cost a third of its US $23,200 (£19,645 / €30,895) asking price. But those bikes aren't Harley-Davidsons. And to many riders that's all that matters.

As I say, I get the "character" thing. Ultimately, though, I feel there's no way I could allow myself to pay so much money for a motorcycle that does so little of what I want it to do. But, hey, not everyone uses a motorcycle as their only means of transportation. Some people use a bike just to meander nearby streets, to see and be seen by the local gentry.

And to that purpose I guess I can understand why my fellow Texans, or folks anywhere, might choose a Street Glide Special. There are worse ways to spend your paycheck.

The Three Questions

Any time I review a bike, I try to think of it from a consumer's perspective, imagining that I'm being asked to spend my own money on the bike. In doing so, I always ask myself these three questions:

1) Does it fit my current needs/lifestyle?

No. As I say, the Street Glide Special is far too impractical, hot and overweight to serve as the all-the-time, do-everything machine that I need. Equally, from a more immediately practical standpoint, it is too wide to fit through my garden gate and into my shed.

2) Does it put a grin on my face?

Yes. For the first 20 miles or so. It is a huge, stupid, laughing-in-my-helmet grin that helps me understand why so many Americans seem to be religiously devoted to this brand. However, as the miles piled on my grin turned quickly to a grimace. And I have to admit that by the end of my day with the Street Glide Special I was approaching something akin to anger. As I say, the bike simply does not do what Harley says it is supposed to do. It is, however, really great for peacocking around town. Whether you see that as positive or negative depends a lot on your personality and what you want from a bike.

3) Is it better than my current bike?

Nope. Not in any measurable way. The Street Glide Special looks better than a V-Strom 1000 and, of course, it's got the Harley-Davidson badge; it's more likely to help me get chlamydia at Daytona Bike Week. But in all other ways it doesn't measure up.

(Parts of this review were originally published on RideApart)

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**This June I'll be taking part in the Royal British Legion Riders 1000 ride, helping to raise money for the Poppy Appeal. Please check out this page to learn more and donate in support of British veterans, currently serving military personnel, and their families.**

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The week that showed just how badly Harley-Davidson have failed with the Street 750

This is an exciting time of year for motonerds. Around the world, a number of trade shows are taking place and manufacturers are in the process of unveiling their latest, greatest products.

If, like me, you are a motonerd with a soft spot in your heart for hipsterism (I still contend that hipsters have saved motorcycling), this week in particular has been very exciting because it's seen the unveiling of no less than five new Triumph Bonneville variants, as well as the launch of the super sexy Yamaha XSR700.

At the presentation event for the latter motorcycle, Yamaha project manager Shun Miyazawa joked that in light of Ducati's success with its Scrambler model his company were "jumping on the hipster bandwagon." According to Visordown editor Tom Rayner, the joke fell flat –– in part because everyone knew it was true.

The style of bike that Triumph refers to as "modern classic" is where the tastes of many lie at the moment, regardless of how much it upsets the balding dudes in leather onesies, or their dads on SOLAS-tape-covered Honda Deauvilles. Personally, I love the modern classic bikes.

There's not much doubt that Triumph is at the heart of the current trend, and I'll admit to being pretty excited about everything they're bringing forward. That thing that I thought was the new Thruxton has turned out to be a new Thruxton and it is beautiful; a new, more powerful T-120 Bonneville has eliminated every complaint I had about the old Bonneville and added a few awesome things I wouldn't have even thought of; and an all-new catch-all base model known as the Street Twin has been unveiled.

I'll swoon for all of these in more detail in future posts, but it's the Street Twin in particular that set into motion a train of thought recently.

Triumph Street Twin

Prices haven't been released yet, but the Street Twin's 900-cc engine (all the others have been boosted to 1,200 cc) and single front disc brake suggest it will be the cheapest of the new Bonneville line up. My guess is that in Her Majesty's United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, its price tag will slot in somewhere between £6,250 and £7,250, the former being the price of the Yamaha XSR700 and the latter the price of a Ducati Scrambler Icon.

Also between those prices is the £7,135 Moto Guzzi V7II Stone. A bike that's relevant to this discussion because it, the Ducati Scrambler, the Yamaha XSR700 and the Triumph Street Twin all fall into the category of affordable, retro-inspired modern motorcycles designed to tie into a lifestyle that encourages you to spend more money buying custom accessories and gear.

To make it easy for you to do this, Triumph and Moto Guzzi offer fancy customization kits that transform the bike to fit a number of current styles, including urban racer, scrambler and street tracker. Ducati offers four variants of the Scrambler (and has strongly hinted that more on the way at EICMA) and a growing accessories catalogue. Yamaha only launched the XSR700 a few days ago and already it boasts an accessories catalogue of more than 40 items.

Now, think about it: all this lifestyle and factory-provided accessorizing is straight out of the Harley-Davidson playbook. But in looking at the aforementioned bikes I am overcome by the realisation of just how badly Harley-Davidson bungled (and continues to bungle) its Street 750 model. Because, really, the Street 750 (and Street 500) should be a part of the above group. It should be, but it's not. It's not even close.

Let's start with the fact that it does not look good. The Street 750 is an ugly, aesthetically lazy motorcycle from a company that has not one other ugly, aesthetically lazy motorcycle in its line up –– a company that is renown for making beautiful motorcycles. There is no way you can claim with a straight face that Harley-Davidson did their best with this thing.

Harley-Davidson Street 500

And even if it didn't look like something you'd get on the cheap from Direct Bikes, the fit and finish of the Street 750 is known to be poor. The brakes were a particular target of derision when the bike was originally launched in the United States. That issue had been addressed somewhat by the time the bike was launched recently in Europe. (Or, well, it was thought to have been addressed. Until German magazine Motorrad found the brakes failed completely in an emergency stop test.) But other problems remain. Wiring is untidy and the plastic Harley-Davidson badge bends when pressed.

Meanwhile, the Ducati Scrambler and Moto Guzzi V7II are beautiful bikes in person –– the latter especially. The Triumph Street Twin and Yamaha XSR700 aren't yet in dealerships, but I have no doubt they, too, will far exceed the Street 750 in fit and finish.

Beyond the issue of aesthetics, though, is discussion of bike features, and that's where the Street 750 really gets walloped. Putting out just 56 hp, it is underpowered compared to all but the Moto Guzzi. It is the only one without anti-lock brakes (something that will have to be rectified very soon in Europe if Harley-Davidson wants to continue selling here). It is the only one without a gear position indicator. It is the only one without a fuel gauge. It is the only one without a clock. It and the XSR700 are the only ones without traction control or a 12v plug under the seat. (Possibly to compensate for this, the XSR700 is the only one of the group to have dual front brake discs) Not to mention the Street 750 weighs up to 30 kg more than the other bikes.

When compared to the Ducati, Moto Guzzi, Triumph and Yamaha, the Harley-Davidson attempt at capturing this market is an unmitigated failure (a). But what's more frustrating is the fact it's a letdown even without competition. Even if you judge the bike solely on Harley-Davidson terms it is a disappointment.

Moto Guzzi V7II Stone

As I said above, the other brands are attempting to take a page from the Harley-Davidson playbook in trying to create a lifestyle brand of easy customisation. So, it is baffling that Harley-Davidson's own efforts toward the Street 750 are so sub-par. There are no multiple versions of the bike, as Ducati has done with the Scrambler Icon, Classic, Urban Enduro and Full Throttle; there are no "inspiration kits," a la Triumph and Moto Guzzi; there are not even the number of accessories available as those for Yamaha's XSR700.

There are strong rumours that BMW is set to offer its own version in the not-too-distant future. Quite possibly we'll see it unveiled at EICMA in a few weeks. And I'm willing to bet that they, too, will do a better job at playing Harley-Davidson's game than Harley-Davidson has.

Meanwhile, you'll probably have seen the recent news that Harley-Davidson's sales and share price are in slow decline. Partially that's because the bikes are again gaining a reputation for being unreliable (the company has had to recall 312,000 bikes this year and has recalled an average of 94,000 bikes a year over the previous decade). But Harley-Davidson readily admits that one of its biggest problems is its woeful inability to connect with a younger audience, while its older audience ages out of its riding years.

Ducati, Moto Guzzi, Triumph, Yamaha and, soon, BMW have shown (will show) that Harley-Davidson were essentially right to develop the Street 500/750. It makes a whole lot of sense. But those companies have also shown that Harley-Davidson just doesn't get it. Harley-Davidson is so rooted in what it has always done that it is seemingly incapable of doing anything else.

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(a) I use "failure" in a broad sense, not necessarily referring to its economic performance. I don't actually know how the Street 750 is faring financially overall. I would argue that if it is selling respectably that is solely because of the name on its plastic badge, rather than as a result of the bike itself.

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Keyless start makes you a bad ass

I can remember when key fobs started showing up in cars, allowing keyless entry and keyless start. It baffled me. Why, I thought, would such a thing be necessary or even all that desirable? 

Is the world full of silent sufferers of repetitive stress injury whose lives are made hell by the act of taking keys out of their pocket and placing them in the steering column? Are we so short of problems that the greatest minds of our generation absolutely needed to remedy this problem?

Key fobs just struck me as stupid and inherently susceptible to issues that don't apply to the traditional old bits of metal that are keys. Water, for example. I have on very many occasions gone swimming with my keys in my pocket. Not by accident, but because it makes sense.

At Barton Springs, in Austin, Texas, for example. Leave my wallet in the car, tie my car keys into the waist tie of my swimming trunks. Boom. No worries. But if you've got a battery-powered key fob, you can't take it into the water with you. You can't keep it on your person. So, you can't relax and enjoy splashing around.

Instead, you have to wrap it up in the towel that you're leaving creekside and hope that no one saw you wrapping up said fob, hope that no one will want to steal a towel just for japes, hope that none of the half dozen dogs that are playing in the creek decide to unravel your towel. And you're left to always be craning your neck to make sure that the towel remains in sight, never willing to put your head underwater, never really venturing too far into the creek or having any fun.

Connected to this, a fob isn't the sort of thing you'd want to risk throwing to someone. Ever done that? I have. You're up on the third floor or some such thing and your wife says: "Hey, can you throw me the keys, I need to get something out of the car."

So, you toss them down to her and because she has the eye-hand coordination of a drunk and blind sloth, the keys never even touch her hand and go straight to the pavement. Do that with a fob and you'll end up with smashed bits of plastic and an urgent phone call to the dealership.

Even if you don't ever get the fob wet or drop it from great height, there's still the reality of a battery and its finite lifespan. A metal key that's been sitting in a drawer for 60 years will still function as it did when it was first cut. If you live in a place that gets ungodly cold, like Minnesota, that key will still get you into the shelter and safety of a car even if the car's battery is dead.

So, by and large, my opinion of key fobs has always been negative. They strike me as an unnecessary gimmick, answering a question no one asked and creating problems from a previously problem-free aspect of driving (a).

Needless to say, as the keyless-start trend has made its way to more and more motorcycles it has been met by more and more eye rolling on my part. I have definitely gone swimming with my motorcycle keys in my pocket (on those times when I've remembered to bring a swimming trunks and not just dived in completely naked). I have definitely dropped my keys.

True, I have also accidentally left my key in the ignition and walked away, only to realise my mistake upon returning to the bike half an hour later. And, yes, the other key on the key chain (the key to my U lock) has bounced around in the wind to the extent that it has scratched and chipped the metal of the steering column. But these issues still haven't really validated keyless bikes in my mind.

Generally, when I've seen keyless start listed as a feature, I've thought: "Give me heated grips instead. They're cheaper, more practical and less critical should they fail."

But then something happened that completely changed my mind

.
There's a dude in Cardiff who rides a Harley-Davidson Iron 883 and parks it wherever the hell he pleases. He works in the city centre, I assume, because that's where I always see his bike -- always in some place that motorcycles aren't really supposed to go (b). This in and of itself makes him cool. Cardiff city centre benefits from second-hand cool as a result. I feel this should be written into the city's improvement plans: if you have a cool bike you are allowed to park it anywhere you damn well please. There's something pretty awesome about seeing a Harley just cooling under a tree in the Hayes, or Royal-Enfield Continental GT serving as backdrop to some street performer.

This particular Iron 883 has aftermarket exhaust that can be heard from a fair distance, but up until recently I'd never seen the guy who owns it. Then, a few days ago, I was walking through city centre when I heard the bike approaching.

FAWOOM. I turned to see it rolling up a bus lane and onto the pedestrianised area outside Central Library. Next to the bicycle racks, where a few other motorcycles were parked, he stopped and performed the coolest manoeuvre I have ever seen.

In one single, fluid action, he kicked down the side stand, thereby cutting the engine, stepped off the bike and walked away, pulling off his helmet and never even glancing back at the bike as he strut into John Lewis.

Yeah, the story is ruined somewhat by the fact he was strutting into a John Lewis, but ignore that bit. The keyless fob in his jacket meant he was able to just get off the bike and walk away like a movie star. It was such a cool, beautiful move that I felt weak in the knees. It made me want to run out and get an Iron 883 just so I could ride around pulling the same trick.

And deep down in the recesses of my mind a thought formed: "Man, keyless bikes are bad ass."

____________________

(a) OK, not totally problem-free, as people from the Upper Midwest can attest. It is possible to have your lock freeze in severely cold weather and for the key to snap as you're trying to undo that lock. But that's a problem that can be overcome by the simple act of paying attention to what you're doing: if the lock feels frozen, don't try to force it.

(b) Though, there's nothing to say specifically that he shouldn't be parking his bike there. Peculiarly, if you look at the Vehicle Excise Duty certificate (often incorrectly referred to as "road tax") for a motorcycle in the UK, you will see that the government in its infinite wisdom has classed the machine as a bicycle. Running with this, many of the ballsier riders in the UK apply the same parking thinking to their motorcycles as one would a bicycle -- e.g, on the sidewalk, chained to a pole, etc. Only London has cottoned to this trick and outlawed it. Everywhere else, it is left to police discretion as to whether your bike is causing a problem.

ADSENSE HERE

A look back at Motorcycle Live

I went to my first motorcycle show recently: Motorcycle Live. The show takes place in Birmingham every year and is reportedly the country's largest.

I can believe that claim. The show runs for nine days, thereby incorporating two weekends, and when I was there on a Wednesday it was packed. Test rides booked up within minutes, empty places to sit were few and far between, and you had to do some pretty aggressive hovering to be able to sit on the models that appealed to you.

The models of motorcycles, that is. As opposed to the other type of model. I'm not sure we would have been allowed to sit on the underfed girls who prowled the convention halls shoving leaflets into people's hands.

I can't find any recent figures, but in 2011 the show drew more than 112,000. If you consider that the European economy has improved (just a tiny bit) since then, and there have been a huge number of new and interesting bikes announced this year, it's safe to say they are on track to do better this year. (UPDATE: 117,000 attended this year) I'm terrible at gauging such things, but I'm willing to bet I was one of at least 10,000 people on the day I visited.

There was plenty of space for us, to be fair, with the hundreds of exhibitors and manufacturers spread through a number of gigantic aeroplane-hangar-sized halls. I suppose the cost of heating such an enormous space is where the bulk of one's £17 ticket price goes. And to that end, I don't imagine I'll go to Motorcycle Live again in the future. I loved getting a chance to see and sit on so many bikes, but overall I don't think it was worth the money, nor the effort I had to put into getting there. Birmingham is 125 miles from Cardiff; riding there in a cold drizzle was a whole lot of not-fun. Riding home in the same conditions was even worse in the dark.

Still, there were a number of positives and I came away from the show with lots of things for my motorcycle-loving brain to spin around on for the next several months. Here are my impressions of the show, organised by the manufacturers that drew my attention most.

BMW

Tiny men love this bike. 

Short guys fucking love the R1200GS. I don't understand this at all, considering it is such a tall bike, but they were swarming around this machine, almost crawling on top of each other for the opportunity to sit on it, squeeze the levers and click the gears up and down.

This is what you do at a motorcycle show, it would appear: click those gears as if they were your path to the Heavenly Kingdom. Make sure you put on a very serious face when you do it, too. You are testing the... uhm... something. It is serious business that demands a serious face. Equally, you should bend down and stare intently at a random part of the engine. Poke it and furrow your brow, so people know you are seriously assessing this bike seriously.

BMW fans were easily the most guilty of this behaviour. They were primarily also white males over the age of 40, with expensive shoes and hairstyles that would have been stylish 10 years ago. Being amongst them made me feel a little sad. I don't want to be one of these guys. But I sure as hell would love to own a BMW. 

I have already stated my desire to own a BMW F800GT. Finally getting to sit on one at the show only increased that desire. I also found myself intrigued by the F800R, which costs less than its fully-faired sibling and isn't as ugly as it looks in pictures. I was surprised to find myself generally unimpressed by the RnineT, but I really dug the R1200RS and R1200R models. I did not dig their prices. The R1200RS will start at £12,500 in Her Majesty's United Kingdom.

Meanwhile, the staff at the BMW area knew very little about BMWs. This was a common theme for all the exhibiting manufacturers. The F800GT on display was kitted with panniers and other extra bits, so I found a woman and asked her if she knew how much that bike would cost.

"There's the... uhm... on the... uh..." she said, pointing to a display board next to the bike.

"Yes," I said. "The standard price is there, but this bike has panniers, a top box, and some other stuff."

"If you... uhm.. ah..."
"You don't know, do you?"

"No. Sorry."

She directed me to a bloke who also didn't know.

Ducati

I couldn't care less about a Panigale; my attention went instead to the new Scrambler, which looks pretty damn good in person. Though, I'll admit that something –– I don't know what –– cooled me on the bike a little. Maybe I'm just not that big a fan of scramblers. Maybe it's the fact that I really can't imagine quite how a Scrambler would fit to my actual life.

I liked it. I just didn't find myself sitting on it and thinking: "Oooh, I need this."

EBR

The same could be said of the EBR 1190RX and 1190SX. Poor EBR got very little love from show attendees. People walked by without even glancing at these American-made machines. They were so ignored I felt I probably could have wheeled one out of the hall without being noticed.

That made me feel just a little sad, because I'm an American and I want to see American things do well. But I have to say I don't really blame all the people who ignored the EBR bikes. In person, they are not terribly exciting. The ergonomics of the bikes are awful for someone of my height and the seats are about as comfortable as laying a sweatshirt across a keyboard.

Harley-Davidson

Impractical but sexy –– Harley-Davidson Seventy-Two

I don't really know what Harley's doing in terms of marketing in the United States these days, but over here they've gone for a completely different vibe than the one I had always known. This is a good thing, in my opinion. Remember that all the old dudes on Road Kings I used to see when growing up in Minnesota are what put me off biking for so many years.

I saw none of that at Harley's area of Motorcycle Live. There were no leather vests with patches. No bandannas and long beards. No biker babes. None of the clichés. Instead, the exhibit area had a live DJ mixing house music replete with bleeps and bloops added via Launchpad. None of the stuff contained in that last sentence ("house music," "Launchpad") would make a damned bit of sense to the Sturgis crowd, and I love that fact.

Not too long ago, I had a conversation with the former head of marketing for Mercedes, who told me that one of the most important things to do when promoting a brand is to reduce your philosophy to three words –– four at the most. From there, you make sure that everything you do fits that three-word definition. Here, the three words I would have used for Harley-Davidson were: Unique, Intelligent, and Modern. If allowed to add a fourth, I would say Urban. I like seeing Harley-Davidson perform this tack.

I sat on a number of bikes and found them to be ergonomically awkward compared to those offered by other manufacturers. This is the same thing I experienced back when I got a chance to test ride the Sportster 1200 and the 883 SuperLow. Harleys just don't seem to fit me well. The exception is the Seventy-Two, which I got to sit on and really enjoyed. I can't imagine how I could ever argue such a bike from a practical side, but man it was cool. Somebody buy me one, please.

Herald

Ever heard of Herald Motor Company? Neither had I. They seem to be a Chinese outfit, offering a load of 125cc machines. But they are pretty cool-looking 125s. Odds of my ever owning one are extremely low. They drew my interest simply because I have a long-running fantasy of duping Jenn into riding by showing up one day with a 125 for her to learn on. She prefers "real" motorcycles, so the aesthetics of these machines would suit her.

Honda

Probably not the demographic Honda was
hoping to capture with the Vultus.

Take the number of short dudes clamouring for a glimpse of the BMW R1200GS and increase it by a zillion: therein you have the number of bald and semi-bald white dudes in their 60s and beyond who were swarming the bulk of Honda's offerings. This made me a little sad considering I am a Honda owner, a general fan of Hondas, and a white guy. I don't want to be anyone's grandfather yet. But here I was hanging out with loads of them and finding much in common.

The redeeming aspect of this is that when you look at Honda owners in general they are a grubby crew who ride their bikes into the ground. Their gear is worn to hell from use. And I suppose, ultimately, that's the group you'd want to be associated with, even if they don't look as flashy as the BMW guys.

Meanwhile, as far as the actual bikes were concerned, I didn't really find myself swooning over them. Many models (e.g., the ST1300 Pan-European and the VT750 Shadow) are long in the tooth and in need of a refresh. Whereas others (e.g. NC750X, et al.) were so mind-numbingly practical I felt I needed a nap.

Also, the Vultus looks terribly cheap in person, and its ergonomics were awkward. It's definitely off my list.

Some positives, however: Honda's sport bikes were drawing a decent amount of attention from younger white males, many of whom still had their hair or, at least, the wisdom to cover things up with a baseball cap. The look of CTX1300 continues to grow on me, though I still struggle to imagine scenarios in which I would choose to buy it over the similarly priced Victory Cross Country. And I found the CB500 series of bike (CB500F, CB500X, CBR500R) to be more formidably sized than I had previously realised. I could definitely picture myself getting by on a nicely-kitted CB500X –– still perfectly able to travel anywhere in the United Kingdom.

The new True Adventure bike revealed at EICMA was on display, and I found one aspect of that bike to be particularly interesting: there was no clutch lever or gear pedal. That suggests Honda will be equipping the machine with the DCT automatic transmission, and creates a whole lot of questions.

Honda seems to be going all-in with its 750cc DCT platform, using it to create the NC750S, NC750X, NC750 Integra, Vultus, and probably soon in the bike currently known as the CTX700 (not sold in the UK) once Honda runs out of old 700cc stock. And now, apparently, the True Adventure. So, what does that mean for the NC750X? Does it get scrapped? Does Honda rework the X's engine to get a little more oomph and transform it into a middleweight adventure-tourer? Will the True Adventure be an expensive novelty machine like the Vultus?

Indian
I got a chance to test ride an Indian Chief Classic as a part of the show and will be writing up a review in the near future. The short review is that it is an amazing machine.

What I was most looking forward to seeing, however, was the new Indian Scout. It is a beautiful machine up close and I am delighted to report that its ergonomics were perfectly agreeable to my 6-foot-1 frame.

I am looking forward to test riding the bike once it officially arrives in Blighty in March. The day the Scout was launched back in August I called my nearest Indian dealership, Blade Victory and Indian in Swindon, and asked to be contacted as soon as test rides are available.

Swindon is some 80 miles from Penarth, which would be a pain in the ass if I were a Victory or Indian owner and needed work done. Though, the guys at the Indian area of the show said the company is working on expanding its dealer network.

In contrast to the image of urban modernity being promulgated Harley-Davidson, the three words I would use for Indian's approach are: Authenticity, Heritage, and Quality. Again, though, there were no leather vests with patches, no biker girls, no incessant blaring of "Born to Be Wild." The feeling was high-end, and I think it "sold" well to the crowd. In a country where cruisers get the least amount of love, Indian was garnering quite a lot of wide-eyed attention. I found it especially refreshing to note how many women were keen to sit on these bikes.

Indeed, throughout the show I noticed that women gave most of their attention to cruisers and classic-styled machines –– the "real" motorcycles my wife likes. I would hope that some of the manufacturers' marketing teams were there to notice this. With the exception of Harley-Davidson, too many manufacturers are ignoring women as customers.

Kawasaki

Kawasaki Vulcan S

Women were giving a lot of love to the new Kawasaki Vulcan S, too. Though, they weren't the only ones. Indeed, with the possible exception of the Triumph Bonneville range, I saw no other bike at the show drawing so much attention from such a wide range of ages, genders and social classes. Kawasaki had three models of the Vulcan S on display and still you had to muscle your way through the crowd to sit on one.

Previously I described the Vulcan S as looking a little "meh" to my tastes, but I rescind that criticism having now had a chance to see it in person. It has a great, quality look, is nice and roomy, and is comfortable as all get out to sit on. I have promised myself that I will test ride one as soon as I can. This is dangerous, because the Vulcan S is "affordable" (less than £6,000) and a positive test ride might result in my just going nuts and getting one.

Royal-Enfield
The Continental GT; what a joke. Uncomfortable to sit on, tiny, and looks cheaply made. I was thoroughly underwhelmed. As were most show attendees, it seems –– the Royal-Enfield area was almost as quiet as the EBR space. Whereas it makes sense for a small, relatively new American company to get little attention it felt a little sad to see a long-standing brand like Royal-Enfield being so ignored.

The bikes getting the most attention were the Classic 500s. They were quite popular with ladies who appeared to be in their 70s and 80s. Seeing this, it suddenly became clear why Royal-Enfield has struggled in recent years to find a UK distributor.

Suzuki
Whereas some of Honda's models are long in the tooth almost all of Suzuki's are. And even those that aren't look that way. Case in point: the "new" GSX-S1000F. Its awful paint scheme makes it look 10 years old. Playing the three-word marketing game with Suzuki, the words that come to my mind are: Affordable, Decent, and... uhm... Affordable. Suzuki's bikes are just a little underwhelming.

Regardless, I am still saving up to get a GSX1250FA. To that end, I spent a lot of time staring at and sitting on the GSX1250FA that was on display at the show. I am pleased to report that I found the ergonomics to be quite agreeable.

Additionally, I found myself warming to the V-Strom 650. It is a formidably sized machine and for all the European journeys that I imagine myself taking on a GSX1250FA, I suspect the V-Strom would be just as well suited if not in some cases better. And it gets better mpg. This is something Bob Leong told me years ago; I trust he's in heaven now saying "I told you so."

Triumph

You have to pay extra for a fuel cap that locks.
Because Triumph.

The staff at the Triumph area knew very little about Triumphs. They did not know when the Bonneville line will get ABS. They did not know if the alloy-wheeled Bonneville can take radial tires. They did not know whether certain Bonneville accessories would fit the Speedmaster. They did not know if you can simply add cruise control to the Tiger XR or if you inherently have to get a Tiger XRx. And on. It was annoying.

That didn't stop me from falling in love with the Thruxton, though. My local dealership doesn't have one on display, so I'd not really had a chance to stare at one in person before. Yes, it uses stupid bias tires and the mirrors are only a tiny step above useless and I wouldn't even consider buying one until Triumph adds ABS and you have to pay extra to get a fuel cap that locks, but it is so cool! I mean, really, really cool. Especially in green.

That bike is so cool some part of my brain has already started to rationalise getting one. My ultra-practical side, the side that is trying to keep me from locking myself into the challenge of making monthly payments, is clinging to my ABS dogma like a priest clutching a crucifix at an exorcism. When Triumph eventually delivers anti-lock brakes (I would expect to see it announced before the summer), I may not be able to hold out any longer. Practicality be damned.

Victory
Speaking of bikes that look good in green, oh my goodness is the Gunner a sexy beast. I have never seen a picture of this bike that manages to capture just how attractive it is in real life. Sitting on the machine, I felt a deep urge to just hug it and thereafter refuse to let go. I could easily imagine a scenario in which staff from the National Exhibition Centre were having to pry me off the bike as I wept and shouted: "It's mah baby! She needs me!"

The seat of the Gunner is ridiculously comfortable; the overall ergonomics of the bike felt ideal. Whether the Gunner is £1,300 better than the £9,000 Victory Vegas 8-Ball, however, is up for debate. I realise the former is presently the only Victory cruiser with ABS as an option, but oof.

Meanwhile, I continue to be disappointed by Victory's marketing strategy. Here is where you hear classic rock being blared. Here is where you see scantily clad women tottering on high heels who don't know a goddamn thing about the bikes they're shilling. I mean Not. A. Single. Fucking. Thing.

At one point in the afternoon, there was a guy who demonstrated that Victory bikes can actually be manoeuvred into very tight turns (if you've had shedloads of training and you don't mind the very high possibility that you'll drop your bike). As he was setting up, one of his crew was flirting with a Victory girl and showing her how to start the bike. He had to show her how to twist the throttle.

I almost started screaming. That kind of bullshit is everything that's wrong with motorcycling. All those females at the show who were paying attention to cruisers and classic-styled machines, you will never sell to them if the underlying message of your marketing is that women exist solely to be stared at.

Don't get me wrong, I like sexy women; I married one. But I can just imagine what my wife's response would be if I were to take her to a Victory event where Lycra-clad anorexics galumph about on 6-inch heels amid a soundtrack by The Offspring. In the game of trying to convince her that bikes are a really good idea we should spend money on, I'd be set back a decade.

Motorcyclists often scoff at this idea –– and there are always exceptions –– but when you buy a bike you are buying into a lifestyle. Or, at the very least, you are buying into an acceptance of a lifestyle, a willingness to be associated with that lifestyle. Buy a Honda and you are embracing all those raggedy old white men. Buy a BMW and you are welcoming the association with short, rich guys. Buy a Suzuki and you're telling the world you're a cheapskate. Buy a Triumph Bonneville and you're showing love for those who take facial grooming very seriously. I'd accept those other associations. I do not want to be a part of or condone the idiot misogyny implied by Victory's marketing.

I weep for Jaqui van Ham.

WK Bikes

WK 650TR (aka CF Moto 650TR)

For quite some time I have pondered whether the WK 650TR –– aka the CF Moto 650TR –– is a bike worth having. A China-made machine whose engine copies the Kawasaki Ninja 650 (aka ER-6 outside the United States) and wears the aesthetics of a Honda ST1300, its price is incredibly appealing. In the UK, it will set you back just £5,200

For that, you get a fully faired bike capable of nigh 68 hp that has incorporated hard panniers, a fancy little 12V plug for your sat-nav/phone, and some nifty wee storage compartments in the fairing. By comparison, if you were to get an actual Ninja 650R (known as an ER-6f in the UK) and add accessory panniers and 12V plug, you'd likely be paying close to £7,200.

Of course, you'd also be getting a Kawasaki. With the WK, you get a bike whose name changes depending on which country its sold in and a sparse dealer network made up of independent shops that look as if they are about to shut down. In fact, they frequently do –– a number of dealers listed on WK's site no longer exist.

But still. What if? That's what any economy-minded motorcyclist asks. What if this WK 650TR were actually good enough? What if I really could get all that bike, brand new, for so little money?

I know other people ask this, too, because the two 650TR machines on display were drawing a decent amount of attention at Motorcycle Live. And clearly all of the people looking had similar concerns about quality. Every bloke I saw get near the bike would first take a furtive glance to make sure no staff were watching, then strike some part of the bike with a certain amount of force. They were yanking on the panniers, banging the tank with their wedding rings, tugging at the doors of the fairing compartments, thunking the mirrors, mashing the pedals, squeezing the levers and otherwise treating the display models as roughly as they felt they could get away with. And when I say "they" I mean "we."

If you consider that thousands of people were doing this day after day, it seems the build quality of the 650 TR is pretty good. What that says for the actual running of the bike, I'm not sure. The truth is, I still don't think I'd trust it. Not least because the 650TR does not come with ABS. A quick glance at AutoTrader tells me that a 2010 ER-6f with antilock brakes and less than 5,000 miles on the odometer can be had for £3,100. Givi panniers and a 12V plug will add another £500 or so. That leaves you paying £1,600 less than the asking price of the 650TR, with a still-higher resale value and a legitimate dealer network.

Oh, and I forgot to mention that the 650TR's 12V plug is oddly located right where my knee pushes against the fairing, which means it would probably be useless. My leg would be accidentally disconnecting whatever I had plugged in. I realise I am a bit tall for the bike but I can't imagine anyone being so tiny they would not disrupt the plug. Except for a baby. And babies really should not be riding full-size motorcycles; it's dangerous.

Yamaha

Yamaha MT-09 Tracer (aka FJ-09)

Instead of getting a 650TR you could get an MT-07. Because that is one of the best bikes I've ever ridden. Equipped with ABS it costs just £100 more than the Chinese bike. No, it doesn't have any wind protection or panniers but it is so much fun you won't care.

The bike of most interest to me at the Yamaha exhibit, however, was the newly announced MT-09 Tracer (aka the FJ-09 in the United States). It's got the look of a legitimately solid and useable machine, comfortable ergonomics and will be priced at £8,100 in the UK. That puts it at almost £2,000 less than most of its competition and still several hundred pounds cheaper than the new Triumph Tiger XR, while offering more standard amenities.

Though, you know, if you do a side-by-side comparison, the difference in price is somewhat visible. Just by looking, a person could probably guess the cheaper bike. That's OK, because the MT-09 Tracer is still (probably –– I haven't test ridden one yet, obviously) a good bike. But it's something to be aware of.

What's baffling is that you would have the same experience when comparing the XV950 (aka Star Bolt) and the Harley-Davidson Iron 883. But in this case you'd be wrong about the cheaper bike. The Yamaha actually costs more in the UK. I personally think the Yamaha is overall the better bike, but it is not so much better as to be worth more than a Harley. This is especially true when you can do such direct comparisons in build quality.

I was able to look at the H-D Iron, then walk across the hall and look at the XV950 and see that the latter really doesn't match up. It doesn't even match up against the Kawasaki Vulcan S, which costs almost £2,000 less (the ABS-equipped Vulcan S costs £5,950; the Harley-Davidson Iron 883 with ABS costs £7,650; the XV950R [ABS equipped] costs £7,800). That's a damn shame because I really, really like the XV950. You'd be silly to pay so much more for it, though.

Other stuff

• Did you know Peugeot makes scooters? I didn't either. That's probably down to the fact that I pay almost no attention to scooters. If I lived in London or an equally sprawling mega-city, I'd probably be crazy for them. They certainly look like fun and I dig how much stuff they hold.
• I saw three black people at the show. Three. This was in Birmingham, which is one of the most ethnically diverse cities in Britain and home to the largest black population outside of the London metropolitan region. Three black people, y'all. Whereas there is still work to be done in attracting women to motorcycling there is a whole lot of work to be done in attracting minorities.
• £10 for a cheeseburger, fries and a soda.
• The NEC offered free, covered, secure motorcycle parking. Through this, one of the highlights of the show for me was the opportunity to chat with different people about the bikes they rode. I got into a particularly long conversation with an old white dude from East Anglia about his 11-year-old Honda ST13000 Pan-European, upon which he had ridden some 87,000 miles thus far. Apart from brake pads, tires and the like, he had experienced no problems with the machine and lamented the fact he had no reason to get rid of it. I decided he was a pretty cool dude and secretly admitted to myself that if the opportunity ever presents itself, I will definitely get an ST1300. Though, if I do, I will in my mind probably associate myself with Steve Johnson, who is neither old nor white.

ADSENSE HERE

Thoughts on Harley-Davidson's 2015 line up

2015 Harley-Davidson Fat Boy Lo

Randy Newman was clearly wrong. Short people do have somebody to love. Or, at least, it appears they have somebody who loves them: namely, America's largest motorcycle manufacturer. Harley-Davidson's recently announced 2015 model year line up is so littered with "low" models you'd be inclined to think we are suffering some sort of worldwide shift in people's stature.

Well, actually, we are. Over the past several decades -- thanks to improved health and better diet -- the average person's height has increased, with the typical American male now being roughly 5 feet 10 inches tall (a). When Harley-Davidson first went into business more than a century ago, the average dude was a good 4 inches shorter.

I suppose some might argue Harley-Davidson has decided to just ignore this data and chase after the dwindling number of short fellas with a Napoleon complex: offering large, loud, shiny things for tiny men seeking to compensate for something. But, of course, the truth is that H-D is clearly chasing after a different demographic, the average American variant of which is 5 feet 4 inches tall: women.

For all the criticisms people may have about Harley-Davidson, it is hard to fault the company for its efforts to attract females to riding. I've seen no other manufacturer even make an attempt. While many other motorcycle companies still treat women as slutty accoutrements Harley-Davidson is hosting Garage Parties and teaching them how to ride.

So, huzzah to Harley-Davidson. Huzzah to it for working to make motorcycling better (because more people and more kinds of people make just about anything better). But if you're a 6-foot-1 chap such as myself, all these shorty options can leave you feeling a little, well... low. Or, at least, unimpressed. There's not anything that's really new in the 2015 line up.

Harley-Davidson Freewheeler

Well, perhaps that's not true. The Freewheeler trike is brand new, but, again, I'm well out of its intended demographic. Or, I'm pretty sure I am. In truth, I'm not certain about trikes because... uh... ehr...

OK, I'm going to have to stop right here and admit that what comes next is a major violation of this blog's standard code of not doing a tinkle on anyone's parade. Generally, I try very hard not to be judgemental of what a person rides (though I will occasionally be critical of how a person rides). If you like it, ride it.

But trikes, man. Ugh (b).

Actually, no. Not ugh.

See, I can get with the idea of something like a Can-Am Spyder. No, it's not exactly my sort of thing but I can sort of kind of see its appeal. If I stare at it long enough I can almost make myself like it (until I look at the price tag). And, indeed, I can foresee a time -- maybe 30 or 40 years from now -- when I might not trust my spindly old-man legs to adequately balance the weight of a two-wheeled vehicle, but I would still want to enjoy a motorcycle-like experience.

In that scenario, the Can-Am's charms grow on me considerably. I can picture myself wearing a modular helmet (replete with fuzzy microphone headset) and a neutral-coloured textile jacket or full Aerostitch, trundling across the great North American landscape -- from one Good Sam Club campsite to another -- on a luxuriant Spyder RT, and feeling perfectly OK about it. In part because I would know that the vehicle I was on, though offering a motorcycle-like experience, was not trying to be a motorcycle.

There is a massive difference between the three-wheeled
Can-Am Spyder and the three-wheeled Harley-Davidson Freewheeler: only one of those things is trying to be something it's not.

To give you a sense of what I'm talking about, take a look at the two pictures on the left. Both pictures are of buses that are short. But there's a big difference, isn't there? Not just in look but in character. One of the short buses takes "special" kids to school, and the other one takes corporate executives to the airport.

Therein you have the difference between the Freewheler and the Spyder. Sure, both vehicles have three wheels but the former looks as if it was made for people who have trouble figuring out how to tie their shoelaces.

That's a brutal and cruel thing to say, I know. And perhaps one day when I'm 80 years old and riddled with gout, I will have a change of heart. Perhaps I will take to calling Jenn "the old lady." I'll wear a bandanna. And on the Freewheeler's waterproof trunk (in which we store our Depends) we'll have a bumper sticker that says: "We're spending our kids' inheritance."

But for now: no. As far as I'm concerned, that thing is just a great big bunch of no.

Speaking of things that are aesthetically displeasing, for 2015 Harley-Davidson has also brought back its Road Glide model. On this one, though, I am happy to accept that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Some people may love it. To me, the fairing makes the Road Glide look like Bender from "Futurama". But all the press I've read about the bike suggests it's a quality machine. And I suppose you don't really see how a bike looks when you're riding it. So, like having sex with an obese person in the dark, the newly returned Road Glide is probably enjoyable if you don't ponder the aesthetics.

Sadly, a model that Harley-Davidson has not brought back is the Nightster, something that I think could (temporarily) compete with the new Indian Scout if adequately loaded with H-D bells and whistles like keyless start and anti-lock brakes. And everywhere else in the 2015 model year line up it's just a case of aesthetic changes and CVO models.

2015 Harley Davidson CVO Road Glide Ultra

I refuse to take CVO offerings seriously. If you've got that much money I suggest moving to Detroit, where the asking price of a CVO Road Glide Ultra (c) will instead get you a three-bedroom house. Once you move in, I suspect one or two of your new neighbours will be able to get you a slightly used Harley-Davidson at an incredible "discount."

Overall, although it is still easily more impressive than Victory's 2015 line up, I have to say I feel disappointed by what Harley-Davidson plans to offer in the next year. Or, at least, deflated. I guess I had hoped that with the resurrection of Indian there would be a constant flow of ever-more awesome things.

However, maybe I'm looking at it too narrowly. I mean, the Street models are also part of the 2015 line up, and to that end, it's not as if all the models of a model year are announced at once. For example, the 2014 Lowrider didn't get added to the line up until Daytona Bike Week.

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(a) Bafflingly, statistics show the same average height for British men. I find that interesting because I feel much taller here than I do when at home. Perhaps this is because "home" for me is Minnesota, where so many people are of Scandinavian stock. There, despite the fact I am 6-foot-1, I tend to think of myself as a smaller guy.

(b) Needless to say, all my criticism of trikes is automatically rescinded for any individual who rides one because of disability. If I were missing a foot or suffered spells of vertigo or some other such thing that affected my balance and dexterity you can bet your prosthetic tushy that I'd happily be seen on a trike.

(c) Again, Harley-Davidson insists upon giving its bikes names that sound like condoms or dildos.

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