Tag Archives: Softail

Rest day

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Today was meant to be a rest day, a sort of “recharge the batteries” day.

…only one problem, what to do?

I admit, I made a bit of an administrative error staying at a hotel without a swimming pool, but the food more than makes up for that; tonight Magret de Canard, for example!

So what does a long distance motorcyclist do on his day off?

Go for a ride on his bike, that’s what!

To be more precise, go for a lightweight spin up Cime de la Bonette without the encumbrance of luggage, do a bit of exploring and have a nice picnic lunch on the high alp.

All of which came together perfectly.

We got out good and early and managed to reach to summit before the hoards descended. The big Cols often get busy late morning and mid afternoon, so if you want to have a bit of peace either go early or aim for very late afternoon/early evening.

We did a bit of trundling around at altitude and some on-foot wandering around, which at altitude was a tad tough, then found a lovely spot off the beaten track to enjoy lunch.

Not a bad view over lunch!


The altitude thing is interesting and effects people in different ways. It’s generally agreed that doing what I did, going up quickly and then trying to do some strenuous exercise like hike-climbing isn’t a great idea; I can agree with that. You really need more time to acclimatise than I had, my body is used to living at 600ft above sea level in Cornwall, not 9400ft in the high alps!

This afternoon I got Harls fuelled and sorted for tomorrow then planned to have a quiet time doing some writing or maybe having a little snooze, but somehow it didn’t happen and I sort of trundled into supper time…which is where I am now!

The highlight of the evening so far, apart from the Magret de Canard which is incredibly good, has been watching Madame, the hotel owner, giving five German bikers a good dressing down for turning up for dinner in their riding leathers. Then telling them that they smell and sending them off for a shower before she serves them and even then that they must sit outside on the terrace! Priceless!

She winked at me as she strutted past after delivering her instructions; this formidable lady has a sense of humour without a shadow of doubt!

As for the Germans, well they seem to have slunk off for the shower as instructed!

It’s good to have standards.

Catch you soon.

Dookes

Keeping My Word

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Some years ago, I’ve got to check exactly when and it may have been pre-blog days, I took Harls up Col de la Bonette.

We had a great time, but it was slightly tinged with a bit of sadness as we couldn’t quite reach the summit of Cime de la Bonette due to heavy snow.

That day I told Harls that I would bring her back and we would finally reach the summit together.

Call me bonkers if you like, but that motorbike has a personality and trust me, she understood.

I don’t think, therefore, it went down well with Harls when three years ago I took Baby Blue up to the summit before her!

Cime de la Bonette is an interesting place and only in existence due to the wonderful attitude of the French people who saw an opportunity to make their mark on the map of Europe. For some reason the French were not content to just have the highest pass in Europe, Col de l’Iseran at 2770m/ 9087ft, they wanted to go one better and make a totally pointless loop around the adjacent mountain to Col de la Bonette and add 300m to the record!
I love the attitude, though if I had been a French tax-payer I don’t know if I would have been so enthusiastic!

La Bonette itself is a formidable place. From the South, the Nice side if you like, the climb is long and at times tedious, with numerous hairpins and tricky road surface. From the North, it’s one of my favourite alpine roads; sweeping ever upwards though delightful country in lovely geometric curves. You can really get into the groove on this climb, I love it!

On both sides though , as you near the top of the climb the scenery changes dramatically; you could be on the moon! The green high alp gives way to barren frost shattered rock, scree, tortured slates and mud stone.

On top of Europe!


It’s high, cold and sterile, even the delightful Marmots, clowns of the high alps, don’t bother going up here! Get caught on a bad day and you can be in serious trouble in a very short time indeed. Today though was benign.

With altitude Harls got sluggish and I must say that I was feeling it to, sea level to over 9000ft in one go hits you…!

We chugged our way to the summit and I kicked down her side stand.

Silence.

I leant forward and patted her tank, “See, I told you we’d come back.”

At the summit Cime de la Bonette-Promise kept!


This bike of mine is amazing and I’m probably boring you all stupid saying so, but honestly she is.

Then we dropped down into Jausiers and I swear that she ran better and truer than ever before on this trip; I kept my word and as a result, she’s happy!

Let it never be said that I am not a man of my word!

“Well its alright ridin’ around in the breeze, well it’s alright, if you live the life you please.”

Catch you soon.

Dookes

Vive la Difference!

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My hotel in Menton is super.

It’s one of those older places with a high ceiling foyer that’s supported with robust Doric columns. Theres a sweeping marble staircase and the reception desk dominates to hall like the bridge of an ocean liner.

The dining room is hung with chandeliers and set into the panelled walls are mirrors that stretch to the high mouldings that form a coving to the equally impressive ceiling.

It’s all very reassuring and very comfortable.

It’s also a little quirky!

Take last night for example. Dinner was served from 19:00, so being civilised I arrived at the restaurant fifteen minutes later; no problem there. Super efficient waitress Justine ushered me to a table in the window, lovely. A carafe of water promptly appeared and I asked for an aperitif. Justine looked quite stern and informed me that the bar was closed from 19:15 until 20:15 I could have wine, but nothing else until the bar opened again!

OK, go with the flow…

Then ten minutes later the Chef de L’Hotel walked into the restaurant with a radio microphone and proceeded to tell us all about the evening’s menu and then what excursions he could sell to guests the next day. I guess you’ve got to pounce on a captive audience, fortunately his ramblings didn’t distract from an excellent meal!

Then this morning the ritual of breakfast began at eight o’clock and not a second before! Guests were queuing at the restaurant door, which was not flung open until the second-hand of the large foyer clock swept past 12 to mark the hour!

Once we were permitted access, petit déjuner was very good, in a usual French way; croissants, bread, jams, ham, cheese etc. There was however, one splendid addition, jugs of wine!

A nice touch if you are that way inclined at the dot of eight in the morning, but not for me thank you!

Vive la difference!

A bientôt!

Dookes

Hot and Hard

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Today was always going to be tough….

I’d seen the weather forecast last night and all the presenter said was “Hot.”

Well hot is OK, but I knew from experience that there’s ordinary French “Hot” and Mediterranean French “Hot.” – There’s a world of difference!

Mediterranean French “Hot” is like that day in Ax en Provence, when I put my foot down at a set of traffic lights and as we pulled away took about ten pounds of road stuck to the sole of my boot! It’s also when I look at the idiots riding motorcycles in tee shirts and shorts and think that possibly they have a point!!!

Enough of this beefing about the weather, hell at least it didn’t rain, even if the thermometer went over 100º Fahrenheit; which sounds more impressive than 38º Celsius – and yes I was in my leathers!!!!

The detailed report of this final section of Le route Des Grande Alpes will come in the future, but safe to say that Harls and I are happily berthed in the coastal town of Menton, which is reputedly “The Pearl of Le Côte d’Azur!

Harls in Menton, hot and happy!


It’s a strange thing this “Route des Grande Alpes” as no-one seems to know exactly where it ends!

The beginning is easy, there’s a big bronze plaque on the ground outside the Thonon les Bains town hall…but does it end in Nice or Menton? The official site for RDGA says Nice, but the purists say Menton.

My motorcycling mate Marcel, who lives in Thonon says Menton; but also that the bars are better in Nice!!

I don’t mind, we’ll pass through Nice tomorrow. Seven passes today with the highest Col de la Cayolle 2326m/7632ft.

Now I’m happy.

It’s been a tough day and apart from that first enigmatic glimpse of the Mediterranean the highlight was the iconic Turini Pass.

Turini lies in the foothills above the Med. It features regularly in the famous Monte-Carlo Rally and captured my imagination years ago when rally driver Paddy Hopkirk stunned the world in the 1964 Monte-Carlo in a Mini Cooper!

Les Lacets de Col de Turini.
Thanks to Par Anthospace


So what was it like riding the famous Turini?

Well going up, brilliant, brilliant fun! … Going down, bloomin’ awful as the local road gang had decided to “top-dress” the road over three miles with tiny, marble like, stone chippings; almost lethal for a motorcyclist!

That aside, we survived and another amazing adventure with my beloved and fantastic Harls is (half) over.

I’m typing in the corner of the hotel restaurant. Justine our waitresses is clearing table and only myself and four other diners remain. The warm glow from the chandeliers seem at odds with the dusky sunset outside the window.

My Côte de Provence blanc has complimented the meal of Morue dans une sauce à la crème de fenouil/Cod in fennel cream sauce, superbly. Tarte au citron/lemon tarte, for desert is so typical of Menton and the region.

I look outside and Harls is resting in the car park. A local biker thrashes by pulling more rev’s than he knows what to do with.

Harls is happy; I’m happy and tomorrow we’ll point North and head into cooler air.

It’s been some ride, hot and hard, but wouldn’t have had it any other way because Harls and I did it together!

Now I’m alone in the restaurant, the other diners have left, like dear old Floyd said, “Peut-être le temps d’un petit Marc!”

I’ll raise a glass to that Floyd, a glass to Harls and le Route des Grande Alpes!

“So put me on a highway and show me a sign
And take it to the limit one more time.”

Catch you soon.

Dookes

It’s All In The Mind – More Highs, More Cols

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I find it very hard to explain exactly what it is that drives me to climb ever more high mountain cols/passes.

Sometimes I’ve been there before; otherwise it’s a new route, new vistas, new challenges. Always there’s that experience of conquering to beast, which must be nothing compared to how cyclists feel; they have my utmost respect!

Whatever it is that drives me, I cannot do it without support. Obviously Mrs Dookes figures high in this as without her support and blessing I couldn’t be here playing in the mountains in the first place! Then there are others.

This year I have to give special thanks to my good friend Polly.

Now it’s a bit hard to say exactly what Polly does; I suppose that in many ways she re-wires people heads…

What on earth are you on about Dookes????

Well, remember Big Baby Blue, that Harley Ultra Limited that I once had?

Basically I couldn’t get her to go round bends!

Then it started to get serious, it started happening with Harls….which was very strange as I taken her almost everywhere and never had a problem! More importantly I wasn’t for one minute going to let her go the same way as Blue.

To be fair, with me on board, a full tank of fuel and luggage, Blue once tipped a weighbridge at 535kg. That’s bloody heavy! In comparison, Harls is a mere 330kg, but I’d started to get problems with her too…

Miss bends like this….? – Col d’Izoard


That was the trigger, I got in touch with Polly.

Together we talked things through and tried to find the root cause of the problem. This in itself was interesting as I am a fully qualified “Incident Root Cause” investigator, but I digress.

I’m not going to go into details, but like many sports organisations these days use psychometric processes to find that marginal gain, I can confirm that Polly did her job.

After seeing Polly a few times I’m riding and enjoying riding “Harls” and my other bike “Hettie” like I never have before. My cornering is better, smoother and quicker than I can remember and my general riding feels much more relaxed. I’m also getting such a buzz doing it too!

I can’t thank Polly enough.

Today’s Cols; Izoard, Vars and Allos are for you Polly…I probably wouldn’t be here without you!

…..or views like this? – Col de Vars


“Shine on you crazy diamond!”

Catch you soon

Dookes

PS Polly, there a bottle on its way to you!

Tired, Emotionally Drained, but Oh So Happy!

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Let no-one tell you otherwise, riding a big old motorbike in the mountains is hard work!

I frequently smile as Sports and Adventure bike riders flick past Harls and I on those tight twisty mountain roads. True they are chopping along faster than us, but then they are on much lighter machines, with more powerful engines and definitely better brakes. Poor old Harls chugs along with her carburetor fitted engine and brakes that need treating with considerable respect, no ABS for us!

I smile because I wonder just what those other riders are taking in. Do they see the stunning scenery or those eagles soaring on a thermal, or are they more likely looking for the next braking point or overtake?

Each to their own I guess, but still I smile!

We kicked off this morning with a bit of a detour; the good folk of the Savoie region of France had closed part of our route for a bicycle event, but no problem – there were excellent alternatives! That’s the nice thing about La Route des Grande Alpes, there are actually alternative ways of doing it; I know, very French!

So let’s start with a little trundle up the North East side of Col de la Madeleine, 2000m/6561ft above sea level, this side was a new route for us and quite interesting. The last time I was on this Col was with Baby Blue and we rode up and back from the La Chambre side.

Today was different and much more enjoyable, though we were chased by a rain shower for the last 10km and just managed to stay ahead of it!

Then we had another choice and I settled for Col de la Croix de Fer 2067m/6781ft, from St Jean de Maurienne. Again this was a new route for us, though not the Col and wow, was I pleased with my choice! I wouldn’t say that it’s become my new favourite, but it’s well up there. The road winds ever upward, through delightful forest slopes, tiny villages, and a tightening valley, before bursting out above the tree line in a wide amphitheatre bounded by some of the most magnificent mountain sentinels one could wish for.

The Col itself is one of the most popular in the Alps, legendary in La Tour de France and easily accessible from nearby centres of population, so yes the top was busy; most people come up from the easier Grenoble side.

We slipped down to Col du Glandon, 1924m/6312ft, then followed the narrow valley back down to La Chambre for a quick blast to St Michel de Maurienne, where we turned right.

That moment of turning right onto the D902, the “proper” Route des Grande Alpes, was special; this was the road to Col du Galibier!

I once wrote about my love affair, because that’s exactly what it is, with the mythical Galibier. Check it out here.

Today we were going back, again. Galibier keeps calling me and I can’t help but answer her by returning.

First though was the small matter of Col du Télégraphe.

Now “C du T” is often seen by many people as a minor prelude to the main event of Galibier, I was once one of those folk. Wrong!

Col du Télégraphe deserves respect in it’s own right, the climb is 878 metres at an average gradient of 7.4% and starts from that point that we turned right in St Michel. What’s even better is that it could have been made for a Harley Davidson Softail such as Harls, the way that the road is engineered somehow seems to suit the old girl and we flew up.

This was no deep-down-dig-in grunt. This was snarling Harley thunder and “Let’s scrape a few bits on the tarmac round some of the bends” fun! I haven’t thrown the old girl around like that in years, well not with luggage on board anyway and y’know she encouraged me!

I didn’t bother stopping at Télégraphe, or “Le Col” which followed a few kilometres on; the call from Galibier was getting stronger!

At 2642m/8667ft, Col du Galibier is not only one of the big players in the Alps, but also the whole of Europe, it’s number 5 in the “All Europe” list of paved passes.

After the alpine resort of Valloire the D902 enters hardening scenery and as it leaves behind the bridge at Plan Lachat you’d better believe that this is a serious road in tough yet achingly beautiful country.

The last of the winter snow was evident everywhere, in fact the pass road was only opened a week ago. I was thankful for my helmet’s built in sun visor as the glare was a times very bright.

We kept climbing and climbing and climbing with a heightening euphoria as we ate up the kilometres.

Over the last kilometre, tears were welling in my eyes; no I lie, they weren’t , they were running down my cheeks! And Harls, she had a little moment too, was that a bit of high altitude carburettor icing that made her catch her breath and cough or was she feeling the moment as well?

Harls and I were coming back to our spiritual home, again.

We pulled over at the summit and I took a moment to compose myself, Harls sat there with her engine tinkling contentedly as he cooled.

I find it hard to explain just what a hold that this mountain has on me, it’s real, very real and I wouldn’t change the feeling for anything.

We took in the scenery, looked to the sky and were just glad to be there for that moment.

At the touch of a button Harls coughed back into life, time to move on, but we’ll be back!

The mountains call us all…

…it’s just how you answer, that is the difference.

Catch you soon.

Dookes

Hot, Smelly and Dusty.

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…. And that’s just me!

OK gang I’m going to keep it brief tonight.

It’s been a pretty gruelling day. Only 260 miles covered but 140 of those were painful, tedious grind on old National Routes that Dookes should have known better and avoided!

I was going to regale you all with tales of the changing geography and landscape vistas. Then tell how vast fertile plains of cereals gave way to contented suckler herds of Charolais cattle and then slopes of Burgundy vineyards. Instead my eyes are dry with the stinging dust from too many miles stuck behind heavy goods vehicles on roads with absolutely no overtaking permitted!

Fortunately a lunch stop in Mâcon, one of my favourite small French cities, cheered me up a bit as my patience was definitely wearing very thin!

Mâcon and the River Saône


My old mate Floyd, bless his soul, had a solution for that gritty road dust in the eye syndrome; a slug of Marc de Bourgogne in a strong espresso.

Instead I have to settle for eye-drops!

Anyway, tonight we are in the Ain Département of Eastern France, right up alongside the Swiss border. It’s lovely country and as we are a bit up in the hills it’s also mercifully cooler, as the warm winds today made it seem like I was riding into a hairdryer at times, as my pal Paul says!

This is the gorge of the River Ain, from which the region takes its name, nice eh?

On a plus point the twisty roads have begun, the last fifteen miles certainly made up for the painful bits!

Tomorrow we start La Route des Grande Alpes.

Catch you soon.

Dookes

Pondering through the Miles

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Motorcycling is great, no really it is, even when the weather decides to test you with a bit of rain, or fog, or snow… actually forget those bits about fog and snow, it’s pants then!

One of the things I love about being on two wheels is the time I get to do a bit of thinking. Now I’m not talking real deep meditational stuff, because when I’m riding I really need to keep my mind fully on the road, but I seem to have developed a sort of “compartmentalised” mental ability to grab a thought or idea, place it in some recess in the old Dookes head and recall it later for further processing. Which is quite a handy trick really! It’s how I manage to absorb the day’s traveling, write about it later whilst and able to recapture the essence of what I was thinking when I was out on the road.

Take this morning for example.

The road across Northern Brittany from Morlaix to Rennes is a dual carriageway. It’s not exactly the most stimulating stretch of tarmac in the world, but like many such roads gets you efficiently from A to B with minimum of fuss. It’s also the road that I like to use to get me “in the groove” for Continental Europe travelling. As many people will be aware, those pesky Mainland Europeans, along with most of the rest of the world, drive on the “wrong” side of the road; that’s the Right side, only it’s not, “right” that is!

Which got me thinking….

As anyone with half a shred of historical knowledge will know, the “right” side to drive is the Left. Just like we do in the U.K. and so do Australia, New Zealand, Japan, India and about 70 other “enlightened” countries, which equates to about 35% of the world population, but why?

Well it’s all largely to do with swords, farm carts and aristocrats.

In the days when roads were ruled by the horse, just about everybody travelled on the left hand side of the road because most people are right-handed; if you needed to pull out a sword to defend yourself you had you opponent just where you wanted them, on your right hand side. It also was good manners as it prevented your sword in it’s scabbard flapping about and hitting passing riders as you had it on your left. Plus, ever noticed which side most people mount up on a horse from?

Yep, the left, to keep the sword out of the way!

By the 1700s in France the aristocracy kept driving their carriages on the left, even though the necessity of having to have ones sword free had largely passed, but seemingly they enjoyed forcing the peasants over to the right! Around this time though, farmers in France began using bigger and bigger carts as farming techniques improved and crop yields grew. These bigger waggons often used more than one horse so the driver would sit on the left hand side animal in order to use their whip in the right hand, plus they could then also keep an eye on their cart’s wheels as they passed other road users.

Come the French Revolution one of the many ways that the new French Republic made itself “different” was to make driving on the right compulsory, from 1794. As Napoleon Bonaparte then went on to conquer vast swathes of Continental Europe everyone in his path was forced to conform!

All that to explain why Dookes has been riding on the Right-Hand side of the road today. To be honest, on a motorbike it really doesn’t make much difference except to keep your wits about you and look out for traffic coming from unexpected directions; I quite like it.

It’s always interesting and a bit amusing in the first few kilometres just off the ferry as inevitably you can spot the odd Brit car driver getting it totally wrong at either a road junction or roundabout!

Which is all a long-winded way of saying that I’ve just had a brilliant day riding Harls in warm sunshine on sticky tarmac on just about my favourite country on Earth!…(apart from Wales that is!!!) We’ve covered just short of 400 miles, some of it pretty hard grind, but when I’m on on Harls I never want to be anywhere else in the world.

Highlight of the day was riding some of the famous “24 Heurs du Mans” circuit, around the city of Le Mans. Whipping down the legendary “Mulsanne Straight” hanging a right at Mulsanne then zipping under the Porsche bridge before flicking through Indianapolis and Arnage to the Porsche curves was the stuff of dreams!

Indianapolis Curve, moving a bit!

I took Baby Blue around Monza once, I’ll tell more about that another day, but today beat that hands down as I did it with Harls! Thank goodness I didn’t see any Gendarmes.

Porsche Bridge.

Like I say, you just need to keep your wits about you and give a nod of thanks to Napoleon for making life interesting!

Vive La France, vive la revolution, vive la difference!

Catch you soon

Dookes

Dookes is on the Road Again!

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Well almost!

It’s like this people, the old itchy feet syndrome has kicked in again…!

I though that the idea of this “Early Retirement” stuff was that I wasn’t as crazy busy as when I was doing a real job. Pondering for a moment I realise that actually having a “Real Job” give you structure and boundaries, not having one makes everything a bit blurred.

As a result when someone says to me can you help? I inevitably say yes; which is good and bad at the same time.

Certainly life has taken on a lovely unpredictable path and really interesting things come my way to get involved with, which for a variety of reasons I can’t tell you all about; I know, it’s a cruel tease, but that’s just the way it is!

I do know, however, that it’s definitely the right thing for me at this moment in time.

That said, of late I haven’t been out on two wheels quite as much as I would like.

Which is why I’ve said “Screw It, time to ride!”

This coming Wednesday I’m off to La France and am going to chase down a route that I’ve been promising to ride for years – La Route des Grandes Alpes. Click here to read more about it.

Basically it runs from Thonon les Bains, on the shore of Lake Geneva, to the Mediterranean Sea at Menton, via all of the high French alpine passes. It’s going to be quite some trip!

“Harls” in the High Alps


I’m also taking my trusty “Harls” with me, for lots of different reasons, which I’ll explain more as we go along the route.

We leave on Wednesday, which gives you all time to saddle up and ride along with us on the road, as ever I’d love to have you tag along!

“Dookes is on the road again
Wearin’ different clothes again
Dookes is turning handouts down
To keep his pockets clean”. (With apologies to Manfred Mann!)

Catch you soon.

Dookes

Classic

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As I get older, I have realised that fewer things impress me.

Sure I have likes, but impress? Nah, not much!

So when the 2018 Harley Davidson models were released in late ’17 I liked them. Then back in January this year, I had the opportunity to test ride two of the brand new motorcycles. You can read about that test session here.

Following my report on the test, I found myself wondering how the other seven models in the 2018 Softail line compared from a riding point of view. I particularly had my eye on the new “Heritage Classic.”

It’s funny, but I’d always viewed the “Softail Heritage” as a bit of a caricature of a stereotypical Harley…dripping chrome, leather tassels, polished studs, white wall tyres and as big as a supertanker….yeck! Not my thing at all.

2015 Softail Heritage, all whitewall and chrome.
Photo: Harley Davidson


The new “Classic” though was different, very different, gone were most of the fripperies, instead here was a machine that really looked the business, was 30kg lighter and had a more powerful engine.

Yes there was a serious nod to the Heritage of Harley Davidson, but it was subtle and to my eye quite pleasing, but what did the thing ride like?

Waiting outside Plymouth Harley Davidson.


Fast forward to the last Sunday in March and I found myself outside Plymouth Harley Davidson looking around a new Heritage Classic 107.

With a squeeze of the starter switch the engine roared into life and throbbed away like only a V-twin engine can do. I checked around the bike as it warmed up and the engine management dropped the revs back to around 900rpm at idle. The familiar Harley “Potato-Potato” exhaust was not quite the same, partly tuned out by modern noise regulations and also affected by the eight valve engine, it still sounded nice and “grunty” though!

Two factory equipped panniers offer ample storage for day rides, as well as more adventurous stuff like I get up to

I swung my leg over the bike and settled in the seat. Oh this felt comfortable and very familiar, so like my beloved “Harls.”

The suspension on the new Softail’s is much easier to adjust than on the old twin-cam models, so I had checked that I was correctly factory set for a solo rider of my weight; that’s 86kg if you are interested! The suspension has a single mono-shock located under the riders seat and adjustment is simply made by screwing the pre-load in or out.

Under the seat, the spring like thing is the mono-shock. Pre-load adjuster to the right by the Datatag sticker.


Selecting first gear I eased the clutch out and we were away. Now bear in mind that this was a new bike, brand new, so there would be no crazy stuff.

Right from the off was smooth, so very smooth. Yes the engine was tight and the gearbox a bit stiff, though in a thoroughly understandable brand new way.

I chose a route that gave me a good mix of highway, urban and country riding. With a new engine it’s very important not to over-rev it and at the same time also not hold it at the same speed for too long; variety is the spice of engine life too you know!

OK Dookes, so what was it like?

Well, nice seems to understate it a bit…that’s like saying that Turner’s painting “The Fighting Temeraire” is a pretty picture of a couple of boats.

The Fighting Temeraire.
J.M.W.Turner


No, this bike wasn’t just nice; it was bloody gorgeous.

The ample and somewhat “Retro” touring screen gave good protection from the wind, even at 70mph. Handling was superb, miles better than the Fat-Bob and also a step up from the Sport Glide. I took it easy on the twisty bits as new tyres are not renowned for exemplary grip, but I could feel how crisply the new chassis turned into bends and how “planted” the bike felt on the road. I really made me feel very confident.

The brakes are fitted with ABS, but are not linked, come on H-D you can do better than that you link them on the Touring models! I thought initially that I would have liked to have two disks on the front wheel, but the four-pot Brembo calipers really do stop this baby quite well.

Even though I was keeping the revs below 3000 and not “lugging” the engine, there was power to spare; once this baby was run in it was going to be a beauty!

I paused to grab some photos and ponder what I had written previously about Harley Davidson and their apparent lack of innovative leaps forward.

Maybe the whole point is that sometimes you just don’t need to make big grandiose flourishes in one go? If however, you roll a few together subtly over a couple of years you may just have a quiet revolution. By putting the Milwaukee Eight engine in a totally new frame and making a few tweaks here and there I can honestly say that I believe Harley Davidson really have produced something really special and are onto a winner.

To say I was impressed is a bit of an understatement.

Yeah, the old geezer was impressed!

In fact I was so impressed, that I am now the proud owner of a gorgeous new Heritage Classic in metallic Olive Green and Black!!!!

“I bought a new machine and then they say it takes your breath away…”

Catch you soon.

Dookes

With special thanks to all at Plymouth Harley Davidson for continuing to indulge Hogrider Dookes with support, encouragement and above all excellent customer service!
(Usual disclaimer applies)