Choosing a Cruiser or Why You Should Buy a Harley

The following rant is based on 150,000 miles of Harley-Davidson experience, and quite a few miles spent on various alternatives in the ultimately vain hope that something else would suit me as well. (It's also worth noting, I guess, that I put 40,000 miles on a couple of Gold Wings.) I also did some work for American Iron, including editing its H-D 95th Anniversary special and writing most of that publication's content. My H-D ownership experience is with EVO-engined models. My only hands-on experience with post-98 Twin Cam models is the occasional ride on a borrowed bike. Still, anecdotal evidence indicates that what I liked and disliked about EVOs, and about The Motor Company — which is how H-D refers to itself — remains the same. Like many long-time and/or high-mileage H-D riders, I’ve been ill-treated by both the bikes and the company. With that in mind, I’m going to save you the trouble of reading further by cutting to the chase: in my well-considered opinion, if you want a cruiser, buy a Harley-Davidson.

When you're considering cruisers it's probably best to simply divide the contenders into two camps. One is Harley-Davidson; the other is Everything Else with a V-Twin Engine. The rationale, if one is needed, for this is provided by the anomalies that tried to step outside the Harley-as-Paradigm arena. These include BMW's R1200C and Honda's Valkyrie. The BMW was, in a word, laughable, while the Valkyrie — a fun bike in its own way — was doomed as a cruiser by its engine layout, which resulted in an uncomfortable riding position, clumsy low-speed handling, and the aforementioned searing heat.

What's Good About Everything Else

1. Reliability. In general, the so-called metric cruisers benefit from the same scrupulous attention to detail as you'll find in a Honda Accord or Toyota Camry. Point one in the general direction of your favorite biker bar and you're pretty much assured of getting there, and if you don't it probably was your own fault. Equally important, you're pretty much assured of getting home (with the same "your fault" codicil, only more so).

2. Price. Everything Else is cheaper than a Harley-Davidson, but only if you plan to keep it forever. If you're a forever kind of guy, that's the end of the price discussion. If not, see "Price" in the What's bad about Everything Else section.

3. Image. Or, sometimes, the absence thereof. Riding a Harley-Davidson means that many people think they know who and what you are. More often than not, the image they impose on you is not a positive one. When you ride Something Else, that image is diminished in inverse proportion to the pains the manufacturer took to make your bike look like a Harley. Some hard-core Harley riders will scorn your choice of ride, but this once-prevalent phenomenon is not nearly as widespread as it was as recently as 20 years ago. I've pulled into Daytona Beach, during Bike Week, on Something Else, and had some frightening-looking colors-wearing bikers compliment me on my ride.

What's Bad About Everything Else

1. Performance. I'm not talking about raw horsepower, which is available in abundance on many models. I'm not talking about stop-on-a-dime brakes, which are highly overrated under real-world conditions. And I'm certainly not talking about cornering capability, which, unless you ride like an idiot, shouldn't be an issue at all. Rather, I'm referring to the way that the various aspects of what a cruiser is supposed to do come together to inform the total riding experience. (Not that all out-of-the-box Harleys deliver this kind of synergy, but they all have the potential.)

2. Price. Yeah, the buy-in is cheaper, but when it comes time to sell you'll get hammered. When it comes to depreciation, it's useful to think of ski slopes. The Harley slope is where you'd send your five-year-old daughter, the first time she puts on skis. The film of the guy on the Everything Else slope was cut from "Jackass: The Movie because it was considered too gruesome. On the other hand, if you're buying a used bike...

3. Shelf Life. If you want to accessorize your metric cruiser, either cosmetically or mechanically, do it quickly. Neither the manufacturer nor the aftermarket is likely to offer very much in the way of add-ons. Whatever is available will be built in a single, limited run, and when the stuff is gone it's gone for good. Very few models of metric cruiser are built in sufficient quantity to justify tooling of model-specific accessories.

What's Good About Harley-Davidsons

1. Comfort. No, seriously. No matter what your body type, Harley-Davidson has a model that will fit like your favorite penny loafers. You might have to make some modifications, such as changing the seat and/or handlebars, to achieve this goal, but once dialed in, the riding position will be sheer bliss. Yes, this goes against Common Knowledge, but common knowledge sometimes gets in his five-foot-two wife's Chevy and blames GM for putting the steering wheel too close to his chest.

While on the subject of comfort, it's worth mentioning vibration, if only because eventually somebody will. You can, in fact, buy a Harley that vibrates enough to be uncomfortable. It'll have to be a used one, though, because The Motor Company finally caved and dealt with the last two platforms (Softail and Sportster) where it was an issue. The dressers have had rubber-mounted engines for a quarter of a century, and the traditional cruiser lines for nearly that long. The engines, themselves, have been smoothed out to a significant degree, as well. At this point, the only vibration that's even close to being intrusive occurs at idle.

2. Value. It looks as though supply has caught up with demand, so the number of dealers adding anywhere from $1 to $5K to the sticker has dropped to a small, deluded few. Some dealers are even discounting. This is not to imply that Harley is a cheap date. Even with a modest discount a Harley will cost you way way more than Something Else. But you'll make up most, maybe all, the difference when it comes time to sell. (If you're in it for the long haul, see Shelf Life, below.)

3. Shelf Life. Harley-Davidson builds a tremendous number of motorcycles, but only a few platforms. (See Appendix A, below.) As a result, you can seriously hurt yourself trying to lift a stack of parts-and-accessory catalogs. The Motor Company's own catalog is many hundreds of pages long, and it's dwarfed by those of the major aftermarket suppliers. As a result, you can fine-tune every aspect of a Harley's appearance, performance, and ergonomics until it's just right. You can also keep it running and on the road as near as matters to forever. This holds true whether the bike is one your dealer uncrated yesterday afternoon, or was built when you were still in diapers.

4. Reliability. Yeah, 10 percent made it home. Ha ha ha. And the difference between a Harley and a Hoover is that the Hoover has the dirtbag on the inside. Your grandpa's experiences notwithstanding, stock Harleys are no less reliable than Something Else. The Motor Company had to be dragged, kicking and screaming, to the point where this was true, but if you buy a new one and follow the maintenance schedule, it'll get you there and back. Unless the camshaft bearing fails. (See What's Bad About Harley-Davidsons, below.)

What's Bad About Harley-Davidsons

1. The Motor Company's Greed and Contempt for its Customers. Remember that thick parts-and-accessories catalog I mentioned? You're probably going to need it. Your new bike is going to look great from 15 feet back, but move closer and you'll see dozens of places that simply cry out for finishing touches. If you leave the cosmetics alone, and simply want more power, the factory's greed becomes even more apparent.

Suppose, for example, you want more power. One way to get it is by opting for the Big Bore kit that increases the engine's displacement. The Big Bore kit replaces the existing cylinders with — you guessed it — bigger ones. But you can't order a Big Bore bike from the factory. First you buy the regular bike, and then you buy the Big Bore kit and pay the dealer to tear the engine apart and replace the cylinders. So before you turn Mile One you're paying for two sets of cylinders and a whole bunch of labor. And you've got a bike whose engine wasn't sealed by the factory, but by your dealer's mechanic.

I've seen Harleys being built. It would be no trick to make the Big Bore a regular production item. But then The Motor Company wouldn't be able to charge you twice for cylinders, and your dealer would lose a nice chunk of service department business. The only loser in this equation is the customer. I'd give you more examples, but I'm too steamed up as it is. In 1998 I was sufficiently steamed (about a different issue) to write a letter to The Motor Company's CEO.

2. Reliability. Two words: cam bearings. The cam bearing installed in the EVO engine (1984-1998) was just strong enough to bear the load imposed by the OEM cam assembly. If you installed — as many of us do — a cam with a slightly more aggressive profile and the bearing became a time bomb, with the potential to shatter and do considerable damage to the engine. The Motor Company stonewalled, and denied that the problem existed. When the TC engine was introduced, in the 1999 model year, they had the opportunity to quietly start over and specify a stronger cam bearing. Instead, they cheaped it out, and as a result wound up (quietly) replacing the engines of at least two early-adopters of my acquaintance.

3. Heat. Right from the start (which was in 1995) Harley-Davidson's fuel-injected engines ran hot. Seriously hot. I'm not sure this is The Motor Company's fault: the cause of this heat is an overly lean air/fuel mixture, which could be the result of the government meddling. You can either live with the heat, which is directed mostly at the right leg, or adjust the mixture. There are two ways to do this. One is to pay the dealer a (surprise!) high price to remap the fuel-injection computer. The other is to buy a device that lets you do it yourself. (On my '98 Ultra I opted for the latter, in the form of the Vance/Hines FuelPak.)

4. Performance. Or, more to the point, power, but depending on the model you choose and what your expectations and needs are it might not be an issue,. Today's stock engines have about the same amount of power as my EVO models did after I hot-rodded them, which was just enough. But "just enough" is a relative term. Both of my bikes were Harley's heaviest touring models, and they were often burdened with a passenger, full-to-bursting saddlebags and trunk, and a strapped-on duffel bag. Today you could probably be very happy with the stock engine's performance. Of course, if you enrich the mixture (see "Heat") you'll also probably want to free up the intake and exhaust a bit, and as long as that's going to happen it's a short step to more interesting cams (see "Reliability) and a Big Bore kit (see Greed and Contempt).

5. Image. Deal with it. It's just a motorcycle, if that's what you want it to be.

Appendix A: The Platforms

The Motor Company makes big cruisers in three flavors. Those built on the Dyna platform are closest in concept and appearance to the 1971 Super Glide. Dynas are fairly narrow, and if handling is important they're a good choice. To me, they don't look massive enough. But that's just me. The Softail line includes the wonderfully-named Fat Boy and super-retro Springer, both of which are just gorgeous. The Softail name derives from the fact that the rear suspension is hidden beneath the bike. This gives it the appearance of a hardtail, which is another way of saying a bike with no rear suspension at all. The Touring platform was designed to meet the needs of long-distance riders. As such, it's the basis for models with the venerable batwing fairing, hard side bags, and a trunk that Harley calls a Tour-Pak, but is better known as a beer box. Remove the beer box, and replace the batwing with a removable cop windshield and you wind up with what I think is the very best Harley-Davidson cruiser: the Road King. It looks great when you're out on the town, and with a better seat and handlebars is a fine 500-mile/day touring bike.