My teeth are gritted so hard it hurts. The grippy surface of the Wainuiomata Hill is calling and there's a late model Toyota hogging the line in the tunnel and going really slowly. The pops and bangs on the overrun are entertaining though, amplified by the walls of the overbridge, and Grandma and Grandpa ahead are nervously stretching their neck vertebrae as far as they dare. Grandma's head nearly detaches as I wave enthusiastically.
A quick squirt of the chunky throttle and I'm already in fatal accident territory if I'd been riding, say, a Cross Bones. Flop one way, flip the other, glance at the speedo and marvel that nothing has touched down. This motorcycle is like no other Harley I've ridden, except perhaps the Street Rod, but rather than glistening perfection the XR projects a faintly grubby and dangerous aura, one that suggests a steel shoe, no brakes, and aggressive sideways passing moves.
The noise is intoxicating. Yes, the pipes are a bit fat, but they give off a sparkling metallic sheen, looking like something a glassblower has huffed and drawn out of glass straws and then polished with fine sandpaper. Even though the exhaust gasses have to go backwards and forwards twice to get out, the noise is brilliant, going from a "potato, potato" roar to a raspy induction noise tinged bellow, just before the rev limiter calls time out with a hiss like a boy racer's pop off valve.
Instead of imitating Chris Carr and chucking it sideways, not something the sticky Dunlops will let you do easily, you really do have brakes. Really good ones with lots of feel and power. I'm not sure Mr Carr would approve and I reckon Mert Lawill's top lip would be curled in disdain, but my word they work. This isn't your rear biased Harley cruiser of old, this thing can have you grunting with the effort to prevent yourself sliding up and over the brilliantly reinterpreted Sportster Peanut tank. Where the Nightster looked like a budget Bobbed Cruiser, the XR looks the business. Some have bagged the finish of this bike, but the matt mudguard, glavanised steering head bolt, and already scuffed hose clamps holding the exhaust system together, help give a feel of a bike that escaped from an oval and mugged some unsuspecting Japanese street bike, robbing it of wheels, tyres, and brakes. The gearbox and clutch action are a world away from Sporties of old. With those two big lumps bashing up and down the box will never be liquid smooth like a well looked after Gixer, but it's miles better than a Guzzi or Buell of recent times.
I've ridden with, and marvelled at, the turn of pace a committed Sportster rider can summon up. The XR is in a different league altogether. Knees together instead of akimbo, leaning forward with bars more dirt bike in profile than buckhorn, you don't end up in that slightly odd (for me) Sportster riding postion that looks like you fell from a Gynaecologists table and landed on a bike. People who've never ridden a Harley before will jump on this and ride away without having to think about anything except Harley's unique indicator setup, a setup I'm slowly starting to appreciate, especially the self cancelling part of the equation.
Why can't anyone else make mirrors like Harley? They don't look stupid either, only sticking out as far as they need to and they don't blur until 5500rpm. Legal limit cruising is at 3500rpm in top. They're clear as mountain spring water in normal riding.
It takes a while to get my head around actually giving a Harley some real berries, and then things start to ground. Pipes on the right, and footpeg on the left, but my word, I've almost used up all the surface of that 180/55x17 rear doing it. That's right, 17" wheels in proper sizes with proper rubber.
I can feel the back end of the motorcycle moving around now, slightly out of sync with the front. This thing is $16,750 and you can probably guess where money was saved. It wasn't saved carving the engine out of solid lumps of ore, and while it isn't a perfect copy of an XR 750, what with the pipes on the wrong side and like Triumph's attempt at retro resurrection with the Bonneville, a bit, well, big frankly to be a pukka replica, it still ticks enough retro boxes combined with a more than competent sporting chassis to be an exciting road bike.
I'd love to own one. I've gone vaguely mental I know, but a week in New Plymouth with the excellent Mr Taylor's services to hand and I'd have the ground clearance and damping limitations sorted. Just like every Harley it's a starting point for personalisation, but for those of you who have realised that it ain't what you've got, it's how you use it, this will be the first Harley in a long time where improving the suspension will make it more fun to ride. I want to see a one make race series, one where you can only change shocks, fork internals and you are required by Act of Parliament to install Termignonis. I want to be on one of the race bikes showing junior that old equals cunning and tough, not conchos and fringes. For the first time in a long time this bike reminded me that sometimes fast is fast, not a bunch of numbers that you can pump up your bench racing ego with down at the pub.
Thanks to Wellington Motorcycles, especially Pete McDonald who lets me play with stuff I shouldn't be allowed near.
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Oh bugger
Originally Posted by carver
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