No Fixed Abode: Learning From Willie G.
The appeal of the Harley-Davidson motorcycle was once as much of a mystery to me as was the appeal of country music. As a teenager, I’d walk five miles in each direction just to sit briefly on a yellow RZ350 before the salesman shooed me out of the showroom. I was captivated by the names and the numbers of Japanese sportbikes: Ninja. GSX-R750. Interceptor. FZR1000. I bought my first sportbike (a 600 Ninja) in 1993 and what probably will not be my last sportbike (a VFR800 in the anniversary colors, which I insist on calling an “Interceptor” in conversation) in 2015.
I always had contempt for the Motor Company and its products. Next to these warp-speed machines, with their aerodynamic fairings and outrageous power and lamentable graphics, the V-Twins from Milwaukee seemed old. Stodgy. Slow. Demographically undesirable, the choice of white trash with factory jobs and Boomers with transparent orange bottles full of blue pills. The company itself was on welfare; it survived thanks to a tariff. Pathetic. It never occurred to me that I’d ever do so much as swing a leg over one.
Time, of course, has a way of reducing the most fervent youthful convictions to dimly remembered aversion, and then to nothing at all.
When I started dating a girl who had learned to ride on a 1200 Sportster, I groaned inwardly at the whole NOKD aspect of it. Out of respect and affection, however, I visited a few H-D stores in her company. I learned a bit about the company, its history and its traditions. We even went so far as to visit the Milwaukee mothership and tour its very upscale and impressive museum.
At the same time, the cumulative effect of my 90-plus broken bones were starting to catch up with me. I started thinking about motorcycling as something that might be relaxing, low-effort, in approximate harmony with the flow of traffic around me. We rented a massive six-cylinder BMW tourer for a trip up the California coast and I managed to get used to the idea of a motorcycle that was longer than my prone form and more than three times as heavy. Oh yeah, and we binge-watched “Sons of Anarchy.”
And so it comes to pass that I am finally seeing the light about Harley-Davidson. It is no longer an utterly unthinkable idea that one might wind up next to my four Hondas. I’ve even come up with a favorite bike, the one I’d probably buy. It’s not the V-Rod, although said V-Rod is quite impressive. There’s a fellow in my office who rides his V-Rod “Night Rod” to work at the same time every day that I ride my CB1100 to work and to be honest my big Honda retro-bike just flat smokes the impressive-sounding but slack-steering V-Rod.
No, the Harley I want is something that doesn’t pretend to cater to the import crowd or the sportbike crowd or the retro-racer crowd. It’s called the “Breakout” and it’s this aesthetically wonderful statement of pure cruising lassitude, the zero-fucks-given mindset translated into metal. In stock “103” form, it’s about as fast as a V-6 Accord. What I need is the “CVO Screaming Eagle” one, which might possibly keep a distant eye on my CB1100 or Interceptor in urban traffic. I don’t require that it be fast. I don’t own any fast bikes, although that new ZX-14 in the same color scheme as my ’86 Ninja is tempting. I just can’t spend $25,000 on a bike and have it be slow.
The Breakout has many wonderful qualities, most of which actively work against its utility as a motorcycle. It has wide, flat drag bars that probably aren’t as comfortable as the Heli-Bars on my Interceptor. The seat is low and flat and wide and it will probably make my knees hurt. The shifting, amazingly enough to someone with my background, is done by stomping two different pedals instead of flicking a tiny level with the vamp of one’s shoe. The rear tire is slightly wider than the front tire on my 911.
It’s not a true chopper or an authentic custom motorcycle. It’s a factory-produced bike that sells in the tens of thousands. Yet it isn’t that far away from being a custom bike. It’s also remarkably close to the Harleys of the ’50s or ’60s, particularly once they received a thorough working-over on the part of their owners. The switchgear is modern, but the aesthetic is old-school. If I showed someone who was not a Harley enthusiast a picture of a Breakout, I don’t think they would have a way to tell me what decade it was from.
Yet the Breakout is perhaps the most modern-looking Harley on offer, with the exception of the aforementioned V-Rod. When I visit a H-D dealer I see nothing but motorcycles that deliberately hearken to the distant, dimly imagined past. They all look like old bikes. The defiant modernity of a KTM RC8 or Ducati Panigale simply doesn’t apply.
That’s the way the customers want it. They don’t want modern fairings, as evidenced by their preference for the Electra Glide over the Road Glide. They don’t care for the latest engine tweaks or high-rev performance. What they want is a bike that looks classic but operates in a fuss-free, modern manner. The wealthiest and most successful of them think nothing of spending $45,000 on a bike that looks like it could have been ridden by some Oakland pimp in 1971, but which boasts Bluetooth and 100 pound-feet of fuel-injected, zero-stumble torque.
None of these customers are blind. They know what a modern motorcycle looks like. They see Gold Wings and Gixxer Thous and Beemer LTs and Ducati Diavels everywhere they look. They know that Harley could build such a thing. Heck, for a while Buell would sell you what amounted to a Harley sportbike with some features that were more radical than what the Japanese could offer. But Buell didn’t stay in business, because the Harley buyer is not looking for the latest and greatest. He is looking for something else entirely. A link to his childhood. A sense of belonging to a tradition, even if that tradition is as much a product of the media as it is of history. An identity that has a little bit of Brando and a little bit of Peter Fonda and a little bit of Ron Perlman or Charlie Hunnam.
It’s been a long time since Willie G. Davidson and his partners told President Reagan they didn’t need protectionist tariffs any more. Today, it’s the Japanese who are on the run; Honda closed its Gold Wing production line years ago and turned into warehouse space. The big-bore “space” in the market is owned by Harley-Davidson and I wouldn’t guess they’re going to give it back any time soon. They do it by offering a comprehensive ownership experience that is based on style and retro appeal but which is backed by a fundamentally reliable and satisfying product.
So. If Harley can make new bikes that look old, why can’t Chevrolet make a Corvette that looks like a ’63? Why are even the “retro” Mustangs so far away from their ancestors as to be utterly different propositions altogether? Why is Cadillac afraid to make a car as big and impressive as the Escalade? Why is all the design mojo and momentum on the other sides of the oceans?
Don’t tell me it’s all down to crash regulations. The power of CAD to meet those challenges has long since been demonstrated in the remarkable grace and comportment of three-ton SUVs. Moreover, the desire for classic styling and attitude is so strong that even when a company half-asses it (see: current Challenger) the public still eats it up. Think of how many people bought a Chrysler LX car because of the way it looked, even though they knew it wouldn’t match a Camry for reliability or resale value. Think of how important that look and experience truly is.
I like the new Continental, and I think people will buy it, but I think they’d rather have one that looked just like a ’63. I like the new Corvette, but I think people would spring for the option of bodywork that was reminiscent of older Vettes. There’s a market for a vehicle that looks more like itself than everything around it.
There are plenty of reasons why the automakers almost never do such a thing. I think it boils down to this: Harley-Davidson respects their customers a lot more than any automaker respects their customers. (And you can take the word “customer” to mean “dealer” or “end user” in this case.) Harley builds what people want. Automakers build what they want to build. That’s unlikely to change. But if it did, even in the case of a few niche vehicles … what’s the worst that could happen if you didn’t force your product to conform to every passing fad? You’d wind up like the Jeep Wrangler?
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- GregLocock That's a bodge, not a solution. Your diff now has bits of broken off metal floating around in it.
- The Oracle Well, we’re 3-4 years in with the Telluride and right around the time the long term durability issues start to really take hold. This is sad.
- CoastieLenn No idea why, but nothing about a 4Runner excites me post-2004. To me, they're peak "try-hard", even above the Wrangler and Gladiator.
- AZFelix A well earned anniversary.Can they also attend to the Mach-E?
- Jalop1991 The intermediate shaft and right front driveshaft may not be fully engaged due to suspected improper assembly by the supplier. Over time, partial engagement can cause damage to the intermediate shaft splines. Damaged shaft splines may result in unintended vehicle movement while in Park if the parking brake is not engagedGee, my Chrysler van automatically engages the parking brake when we put it in Park. Do you mean to tell me that the idjits at Kia, and the idjit buyers, couldn't figure out wanting this in THEIR MOST EXPENSIVE VEHICLE????
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Clubs vs Gangs...I'm a motorcyclist, not a biker. My bad...clubs like thugs...got it. TheTruthAboutMotorcycles...brilliant idea. The truth is, the odds of getting creamed are supper high. Odds of getting disabled are even higher, no matter what you ride. Dude up the road just recently died when he lost control of his behemoth Electraglide. Who knew that an 800+ pound motorcycle wouldn't want to go around a corner with finesse. He was a nice guy too. Dude shoulda bought a bike with adequate brakes, modern suspension, made with modern, light weight alloys and a riding position that puts the rider in control...not ready to give birth. RIP.
Electra Glide was my all-time favorite game on the C=64!