Learning from experimentation

I believe strongly in the notion that "success and failure are two sides of the same coin". Every choice you make, every chance you take, every decision that works out or that fails... these are simply opportunities to learn something. We rarely make choices that are true "do or die" decisions in our every day lives. And so, it is with a more enlightened and educated perspective that I find my Harley experiment winding down... at least in part.

I bought the Street Glide 15 months ago and have accumulated about 16,000 miles on it in that time. It's been mildly crashed once, it's gone across the country, it's been ridden on rutted, washed out dirt roads and it has traveled the tightest, twistiest roads in the USA and been run at max speed across the flattest, straightest parts of this country. I have ridden it to the Grand Canyon in a snow storm, and across Death Valley in a sand storm. I have ridden in 103+ degree sweltering heat and 20-something frost-bite weather.

With the exception of one break-down that I maintain was a dealer mechanic failure and not the fault of the bike or Harley Davidson at large, the bike has performed absolutely flawlessly when operated within certain limitations and with one's expectations firmly rooted in reality. If you know anything at all about motorcycles, you should not be surprised that an 800lb touring bike can still get around a turn or be ridden in a spirited fashion if you keep a clear head and well-managed expectations in the foreground of your mind.

When I'm riding the Street Glide, I absolutely love the way it delivers power and I love the way you can still lean such a huge, honking beast of a machine and how you can even - occasionally - sneak up on, and surprise, some dude on a sport bike who's wobbling himself through the turns. And, admittedly, it's a very cool feeling to have someone say, "Wow, I had no idea that Harleys could be ridden like that!" at group ride rest stops.

I find myself wanting to dial it back a bit when I'm riding this bike. I don't really try any more to eke out that last little bit of lean or to work quite as hard any more to push it through the twisties. I've already proven to myself that the bike and I are both up to the reasonable challenges you're likely to find on the street. Obviously, the bike isn't anyone's first choice for a track weapon, but on the street where the rider matters more than the bike, it's a perfectly suitable, perfectly adequate street machine that can be ridden well within the tolerances of safe and fast street riding.

Then why, if it does so much so well, do I find my interest in the bike waning? Well, first and foremost, it was purchased with the intent of adult 2-up riding and touring. This is something that is really just not on my radar any more. The number of times this bike has truly been exercised with that intent in mind can - literally - be counted on scant more than one hand's worth of fingers. So, doing the math, $20,000 for a slight bit more than 1/2 a dozen rides... that is one expensive barge!

Second, for me, is the weight of the bike. I don't mind rolling it around, I don't mind it's weight in parking lots and it never feels cumbersome. In fact, the beast is downright spry when in motion. No, when and where the weight bothers me is in weather. If there's any moisture on the road at all, the bike feels less planted to me than just about any other bike I've ridden. I know... KNOW... that part of that is in my head since it was a cold, wet, rainy day when I crashed last year. But part isn't. Maybe it's inertia, maybe it's the geometry and where/how the bike's CCoG is carried, maybe it's the cheap bias-ply, rock-hard tires... I don't know.

I do know that when it's raining, I choose another bike if at all possible. And that, frankly, sucks. I have ridden my bikes in snow, rain, dirt roads, mud... pretty much any weather or road conditions you're likely to find and I have never been phased about it. You slow down, you adjust body positions, you tell your passenger how or where to move and you get on the with the business of getting down the road. The only drama is after the fact, talking about the 4 inches of mud or the 2 inches of snow, after you're safely at your destination, warming up and drying off.

The 'Glide never affords me that sense of confidence and peace in bad weather. And I've doubled my per-year mileage on the car this past year because of that fact. On a dry road, I'm absolutely fine and supremely confident. But in weather, no thank you. I'll bring up the rear, thanks... usually by a long trailing distance.

So in short, the bike is very nice, very cool, very versatile and functional, and absolutely drop dead gorgeous... but unless I know I can count on it the same way I could any other machine, I don't see the sense in keeping it... Especially factoring in the cost of the bike. Harleys are not cheap, and I purchased this machine via financing, so every month the sting bites just a little bit more than if I were out enjoying the bike closer to the near-365-day riding years I've enjoyed with other bikes.

In Spring time, when the weather is warming and people are looking to buy a bike, upgrade or re-enter the biking world, the 'Glide is going up for sale. It was a good experiment. I learned a lot, made some great memories and enjoyed a lot of great riding. It might be a "failure" in that I am not keeping the bike for years and years as I expected, but as we stated early on, success and failure are two sides of the same coin; the coin of knowledge.

I regret nothing from the last 15 months of this Harley experiment, and the final outcome is that a Harley Big Twin bike isn't for me at this time.

Now, the Sportster... that's a whole other story.