I was instructed I would be riding a ” Low Rider.” I thought to myself, “Since when did Harley-Davidson start making '63 Impalas?” I started having visions of Cheech and Chongs first movie. I personally thought that this would be a shit load of fun and started calling my Mexican buddies to see if they wanted to go cruising with me.
When Bandit told me what he meant by “Low Rider” I had to call my friend and cancel. They were bummed. In fact, they may have been a tad pissed. On the phone, they kept calling me something in Spanish that kinda sounded like “Pluto.” Now I was really confused. What the fuck does a Disney character have to do with any of this?
This one kinda reminds me of the Nightster, slightly. Boxy and low, which is cool for my laughable lack of inseam. But get this…unlike my experience with the Nightster stock suspension, this baby has suspension. I like the Nightster, but this one handles lump comfortably in the bump eating department.
Keeping in mind that I just returned a bike that holds six gallons of “Mohamed's Ka-Ching Juice.” I was almost thinking that the Low Rider's 4.8 gallons was…well, kinda chicken shit. But this is only from being spoiled a six gallon capacity. No worries, I was very surprised by how often I didn't have to stop for fuel (of course, if you always jump on it, you'll stop more often). I got great gas mileage. No, I didn't do the math. I was born without the math gene, and, she comes with a fuel gauge, which will be a part of inking in the purchase of any bike for me.
Again, I was spoiled by the bat winged beast touring bike last month. It's like a blond chick with a black dude….once you've had……well, you know the line.
Typical H-D pegs are fine. However, some folks, including myself like mid mount pegs. The Low Rider comes with these, and as a bonus (probably feeling sorry for us shorter creatures) also comes with factory highway pegs. Well thank you Harley-Davidson. I wouldn't be forced to purchase after market pegs. I say this because these factory units are by far more solid than after market set-ups in my opinion.
If I'm stupid enough to throw some constantly yakin' broad on the back, she also gets pegs. Fer shit sakes, ya got pegs practically shooting out of yer ears! I liked the set up, but, (and you knew it was comin') we all know that the Low Rider could be considered a shorter persons ride. I thought the shifter and brake peddle was set up a tad too close to the pegs. No big deal after you grow use to the bike but at the beginning I had to look down to make sure my foot wasn't brushing up against the brake peddle. After a short (pun intended) period on the bike, no problem.
Anyone on the shorter side of the scale, who wants the full size motor, well, the Low Rider should be given serious consideration. Slap some bags on her and yer good to go for a long three state run. Yeah, it's comfortable enough for it. As a good ol' ride for cruisin' to work, play, weekend slams….she's right there and ready. A very strong and competent motorcycle for the money…which ain't much considering what you're getting.
The base model is a slam dunk. The one they turned over to me was heavily upgraded (see photos). There was more chrome than a room full of bald guys (badda-bing). The paint was stellar, which didn't shock me much. Fit and finish will make a new owner nod their head in a ” fuck yeah” mode. Some bikes just scream for custom work. Cutting this, welding that. Stretch, bob, etc. But some bikes are made for the regular guy who just wants to ride.
What's that one ad from some bike manufacturer….um, oh yeah, it goes something like “Some ride to be heard, some ride to be seen, but some just ride.” I like that. The Low Rider is that to me. Every person I talked to who owns one didn't do much to the bike. Just little things to personalize it. It's a working man's bike.
It's for the cat that rides for the sake of riding, and he's on the fucker all the time. Some bikes just happen to be in that sort of vein probable due to the rubber-mounted driveline. To me, this bike is one of 'em. Simply put, it's just a good goddamn bike, but I must make one plea to the factory….”please make us all even happier by blessing all the bikes with Brembo Brakes. Not tomorrow, but right now!” Enough said there. Shit, if H-D keeps hitting home runs like this, they just may surpass every other manufacturer on the ….wait,..uh, never mind.
Tonight, the last game of the playoffs are on T.V. I like the Lakers but actually could give a rat's ass. I'll ride up to Cook's Corner to watch it. Cook's is a well known bike friendly bar and eats joint in the Orange County hills here in So Cal. It's been around since back in the day. Riding in these hills at sunset makes for nice eye candy. The deer, Cougars and gay chickens aren't running across the road quite yet. When you pull up, you're always in proper company of a wide range of stunning bikes and cool folks. It's been around for a long time for a reason. The Low Rider I'm on holds her own against the other fine machinery jammed out front. Once inside, the brew is flowin', the Mexican food and burgers are flyin', and it's real easy to get involved in a classic shoot the shit session. Okay, the Lakers got their asses handed to them, time to head home.
Stumbling outside, I notice an unexpected phenomenon occurring in the sky…it's night time! Not a problem for most humans. For me a slight one. Night riding for me can be a little fuzzy in the vision department. I guess I have, uh, well….I can't remember how to spell the word……I know, try this. If you happen to have a buddy who just happens to have immigrated from Asia, ask him to say “Cadillac.” His response is what I think may be wrong with my eyes at night.
Fuck it, I'll be fine. On the road, I'm not worried about unseen fuck-ups on the pavement because the Low Rider can handle just about anything. Then something happens that takes me by surprise. This bike has magical powers! No shit…it can magically turn it, and myself invisible. It was amazing. Every fat bitch in a S.U.V. with a cell phone glued to her face could not see me at all. Night riding,…ya gotta love it.
In fact, ya gotta it love it enough to even things out. Sometimes one must resort to the, “prankster” mentality. There's a toll road in these hills that have broad, big wide open lanes that remind me of the Autobahn in Germany. It's a long straight road with occasional big sweeping gentle turns. Besides looking like the Autobahn, people drive on it the same way. Being night, I stayed to the right–chicken-shit like. Cars screamed past me like I'm standing still, and I was going 80!
So, to get back at the S.U.V. bike squashing tanks, it was time for some fun. It's never crowded on this road, hence the high speed. So I just cruised, waiting for my first victim. Here he came from way back, gaining on my location quickly. He was almost here. He could see me to the right going much slower than he was. Not yet, …not…yet….he was almost upon me..not yet…NOW! I flip on my left turn-signal which was very visible. They panicked as their headlights dipped towards the road as someone stood on their brakes, then realizing they could never stop in time to avoid me, they gunned it past me with horn blasting and fingers flying. Almost crashed, laughing my ass off. Quality, inappropriate entertainment.
Speaking of eyes, one afternoon I was blazing home on the 405 (San Diego Freeway) and I do an innocent little nod to my left to double check that the lane was clear before jumping over, and ZIP! My sunglasses were ripped from my skull going 85 MPH.
Let's see, the other night I was invisible and now I'm blind. Squinting like Popeye the fucking Sailor. I said a little prayer to the Low Rider that went something like, ” Get me to the side of the road, Whore!”
That ol' stability was shinning through and she got me to safety. I found a small store to buy some more glasses, being I still had a distance to go. They didn't have shit. Had to buy a pair that looked like my daughter would wear, big round ones with pink rims…total fucking chick shades. Seven bucks,….sold! Had to do it to get home in one piece. I almost thought the Low Rider was embarrassed, but she didn't complain.
We hammered up to to sixth gear and flew like a bat out of hell in an attempt to get home before that evil darkness fell upon my weak end eyeballs. As usual, when I got home it took me twenty minutes to wipe the smile off of my face from riding her. A few cold ones seemed to relax the facial muscles enough to return it to its normal frown. Now I must turn the bike in tomorrow. Another broken heart on my part, or parting. Oh well, love 'em and leave 'em I guess.
Okay, It's getting late and you have shit to do, so lets rap this thing up.
Tech Stuff
The seat is low, 25.8 inches, probably 24 with my fat ass on it. It comes with the big motor and electronic sequential port fuel injection (fancy crap that means it doesn't have a carb). Torque is 92 FT. Lbs. @ 3500RPM which means she has plenty of gitty-up. Claimed gas mileage is 53 highway and 34 city which we all know is full of shit, but again, I experienced great gas mileage. This bike, like almost all of the models comes with a six speed tranny and that cute little green “6” that shows up on yer indicator, when there.
The front wheel was 19 inches and with 17 on the rear. Brakes was acceptable but I really, really wish Harley-Davidson would slap Brembo Brakes on every bike they produced. She comes in about one billion different color options and two different rim choices. The front is raked out a bit with 49mm fork tubes…very solid. Indicator stuff is what you need. typical shit…speed, tach, turning, oil temp, bla,bla,bla. You know the set up.gauges
Plus, the thing I personally love…the fuel gauge. She drains yer wallet starting at about $15,000, up to $16,000. But you are getting a lot of H-D for the coin. The base model comes with aluminum 10-spoke rims. Real spokes will run ya about $450. Security system is $345. Us suckers in California will be screwed over an additional $200 for emissions fees thanks to the tree huggers in Sacramento.
This bike is a solid, quality ride. 'Bout the only thing this bike is missing is my name on the title slip. If you purchase this model, you will not be sorry, and I wasn't paid to say that! I'm outta here… I'll be back soon with another one.
–Jon
