Among established Harley-Davidson owners and riders the news was given mixed reviews, and in the same way as every respective "improvement" has only ever been cautiously welcomed, there were those who pointed out that it wasn't a traditional Harley … and they were right. They were right in exactly the same way as those who've pointed out with every successive generation since the Panhead, to my knowledge, has been in pointing out that the new engine delivers more power at the expense of torque. Thankfully, history shows that while each successive bike may not be the same as its predecessor, it was still very much a Harley-Davidson, and that every step in the evolution of the species through to the current Twin Cam would carry the torch admirably. It's too early to second-guess how history will view the V-Rod but, having finally had the chance to swing a leg across the most coveted saddle in recent time, I'm inclined to think it'll be another milestone in a long and impressive story.

Why has it taken us so long?

Because the V-Rod represents a broadening of the range of Harley-Davidsons and as such it is looking to create new markets at least as much as servicing existing ones. To that end, the Motor Company was keen to get as many bums on seats as was possible because they will make or break the mainstream aspirations of this most conservative of manufacturers. It has long been considered that there is little point in selling the idea of a Harley-Davidson to existing owners because they already know what they're getting and are forming orderly queues already, so we've had roadtest after roadtest from professional journos who bounce from launch to launch, comparing the latest and greatest from each and every stable across the world. It is to the Motor Conmpany's credit, and a lot of people's surprise, that in such exalted company, the V-Rod passes scrutiny very well.

But how does it compare to the Harley-Davidsons we know and love?

We've all heard how the pro journos see it by comparison, but they've spent a lifetime comparing American chalk with Japanese cheese and missing the point entirely - and the oft-quoted suggestion that the V-Rod was powering round corners that would tie a Dyna in knots is evidence of this, if evidence were needed. So when we got chance to find out for ourselves exactly what the V-Rod meant for the Harley-Davidson rider and fan, we struck out to get as many miles on it as possible. High mileages are essential to get past the first flush of enthusiasm into the realms of living with the bike.

Anticipating the much lauded power of the 'Rod, I made the hundred mile bend-swinging trip down the A-roads of the midlands to Wayside, in Towcester, on my M2 Buell, falling in love again with the true sportster's power delivery and impeccable road manners: if anything was going to give the V-Rod something to live up to, it was surely this.

Pulling up onto the forecourt, it was there: the first V-Rod I'd seen that wasn't bolted down, and the first V-Rod that they'd given me a key for.

Our example was a pre-production VRSCA built in May last year, before they'd decided what to call it, judging by the VIN plate (May? first we heard was 13th July) with a modest 3200km on the metric clock (who says the Americans don't understand irony?) and I was told not to worry about giving the bike a hard time - just to make sure I kept it clean.

To qualify the strength of the engine, the story was told to me that in a testing base in the US, H-D tests bikes to destruction on a special rig which allows them to be run at, or near to flat-out until they go bang. In this controlled and harsh environment a Road King made 200 hours before letting go, while an unnamed Softail managed 150 hours. With the V-Rod they switched the machine off at 500 hours because it was showing no signs of doing anything other than carry on. If 150 hours on a Softail doesn't sound much, bear in mind that is equates to more than six days, non-stop ... flat out! Even if that was cruising at 80mph, it would work out as 12,000 miles - and seriously outside its scheduled service intervals. If we can find the full story on that we'll bring it to you, if only because I want to know why the Road King had 50 hours over the Softail: could it have been the extra half-litre of oil it carries? If so, how did the Dynas fare with another half a litre less? But, back to the plot.

A quick tour of inspection to find out where everything was - not least the fuel - determined that H-D's engineers had had the presence of mind to incorporate the seat release into the ignition switch: a swift anti-clockwise click released the rider's seat, which hinged away to revel the filler cap beneath: cute, and a lot less of a fiddle than the system used on the V-Max which had been my only prior experience of an underseat filler, and tidier too than the beetle-wingcase set-up of the old Gold Wings. Good start. I'm sure someone, somewhere will tell me how the 535 Virago does the same job, but I don't really care.

Swinging a leg across the bike on its side stand, I got my first major surprise when I picked it up. Bolted-down bikes always feel as though they weight a ton … probably more. This weighed nothing. Obviously it doesn't actually weight nothing, but at 270kg it is 30kg (thirty bags of sugar) lighter than the lightest big twin, and even though heavier than the anorexic Buell - or even the chunkier Sportster - the greater leverage afforded by the riding position and bars made it feel lighter: so much for the weight criticisms, I thought, but we'll see.

Thumbing the starter with no need for choke on the injected motor, I got to hear the 'Rod for the first time too and was not disappointed. It sounded much like the muted Big Twins, and while I'd prefer to hear a little more, I was glad to note a proper V-Twin sound at the back from Harley's first departure from the trademark 45-degree twin. Unfortunately the quiet pipes allowed rather more of the overhead cam clatter than I'd like - a new noise for a Harley - which is probably as much a result of having no fuel tank above the motor to damp down the sound, as it was the lack of exhaust noise.

While talking tanks - or airbox covers in this case - it is a simple matter of a Dzus fastener beneath the lockable seat to remove the cover and give you quick and easy access to the airbox, electrical relays, header tank filler and the displaced battery tucked away at the front. It isn't as simple a matter to put the cover back on again, sliding a couple of spikes mounted in the aluminium cover into rubber-grometted brackets behind the headstock, out of sight, and terrified of marking the flawless finish of the cover - and boy are the edges of the oh-so-thin aluminium sharp: I expect to see carbon versions of these covers and both mudguards to hit the market very quickly if only so owners can tuck away the stunning, but delicate bits while maintaining a bang-up-to-the-minute look. It's somewhat ironic that aluminium - and carbon - gets handled with kid gloves because its weight gives it an air of fragility which is quite false.

Leaving it to warm up before heading back North, I wandered round the bike a little more to see what I was playing with. The disc wheels looked stunning, and the sports-oriented low-profile tyres were duly noted. The brushed aluminium in daylight made the bike positively glow as it caught the light, in a way that the artificial light in exhibition halls had failed to do. The handlebar-mounted instrument pod looked better than it had in the press pictures, or even on the NEC stand and I played for a moment with the program button beneath it to change the odometer into trip, and then into remaining fuel range and back - and all without initially realising it was calibrated in kilometres. Switchgear was stock Harley painted silver, which was something of a disappointment, but it works, it's robust and we're used to it now, and the only departure from the norm was the left hand reservoir for the hydraulic clutch. The jury was still out on the headlamp, though, and I was looking forward to seeing if it illuminated the road better than had the RH-drive sealed beam units that used to be fitted to UK models: it's one thing going in to an auto-electricians in search of a normal round headlamp of any dimension, but this unit is unique so it had to work. It did.

I didn't spot how the 2-into-1 into-2 pipes worked immediately - that came later when I dropped the ignition key into the space behind the collector box - but I much prefer the way they've dealt with the pipes using a big collector box disguised as two pipes through creative use of the headers' heatshields. The heatshield is the only component that follows the pipe from its exhaust manifold to the silencer, the pipes behind it only go as far as the crankshaft at which point a delta shaped collector box takes over. It is infinitely preferable to the unfinished, pressed-steel "goat-belly" tucked away on so many Jap bikes in the place most likely to get worst of the road dirt - and available as a replacement part, when the original inevitable disintegrates into rust, for an exorbitant cost. The second time I dropped the key behind the collector box, it was hot and I wished they'd put a cover of sorts over the gap, or else given more space for the keys to drop through, but I should have been less cack-handed and learned from the first time. I also should've made a better mental note to photograph it, but I didn't which is why I'm explaining such a tiny detail at such length. Pillock.

Suitably warmed through, and satisfied that I wasn't going to do anything really stupid, really quickly, I took my leave of Wayside and set off back up the A5.

Taking it steady at first, and short-shifting into second, the V-Rod produced no surprises except a half-expected lack of low speed torque. It rode like a Harley - like a Softail in fact - and, apart from a half-moon rev counter to tell you that you're barely half way through the available revs on offer, you could kick back and forget about most of the changes. It behaved itself on the dry roads, the brakes were spot on - unencumbered by some the weight they are used to stopping, and aided by braided hoses - and the riding position, so reminiscent of the Deuce, kept me out of the wind-blast at cruising speeds. It was doing so well, that I wound it up a little in the gears from subsequent forced stops and was a little surprised to note that 50mph (80km/h) in first was easily attainable, and quite a good way of putting distance between yourself and the car you'd pulled alongside in the traffic light drags - and countered the torque concerns. The speeds increased as familiarity grew and by the time I reached the first major set of roundabouts I had almost forgotten the radical steering geometry: almost, that is, until I realised I was heading for the chevrons round the outside of traffic planners' favourite traffic calming device and junction control. The understeer was nothing terminal, just something to account for, and easily countered by steering tighter into bends than you'd expect to at higher speeds - easy with the confidence-inspiring frame and tyres - although it was less so on the wet roads that marked the majority of the test. It only caught me out once and I subconsciously adjusted my riding style to account for it, fine-tuning the operation at each roundabout until, on arrival back home, I was scarcely thinking about it.

The radical geometry is a result of an additional 4-degrees of fork angle being added to an already leisurely rake of 34-degrees, courtesy of the yokes. This serves two purposes: first-up, it makes it look radical; secondly it creates a shorter trail, making the steering lighter than if all 38-degrees were built into the steering head to create the same visual effect.

Like the Deuce, the V-Rod's riding position makes the best of the feet-first, all-the-weight-on-your-backside stance which I wouldn't personally choose, but the hundred mile return journey was completed without much fuss or discomfort. Unlike the Deuce or any current generation Softail, some engine feedback was present: the engine's balancers temper its natural tendency to shake, but when combined with rubber mounts to damp down any residual vibes it gives a gentle reminder that something is at work down there. Unlike the Deuce, and more in common with the Night Train, the pillion doesn't get anything like the same levels of comfort and after fifteen miles my wife was begging to be left to the vagaries of the railway network. To be fair, we were both in waterproofs which meant that she was sliding down the sloping pillion seat and had no purchase on my riding gear to help her cling on: after undoing my belt enough for her to grip onto it, we managed the remaining seventy miles to our destination with only a single additional stop but it's the last time she'll sit on a stock V-Rod pillion.

And while we're in critical mode, lets get them all out of the way, if only because then I can defend the reasons for their existence. The disc wheels are beautifully crafted, stunning, gorgeous and … bloody awful in crosswinds. We had some major winds at the end of January and although it could be argued that you wouldn't ride through choice at such times, you haven't always got the choice. I didn't have the luxury of an option - apart from loading it into a van, but that would've been criminal. I've never been as concerned about my ability to stay on a bike as I was when I took the V-Rod back, with some gusts giving the impression of blowing the bike away from beneath me - wheels first. The sensation is similar to riding sideways on ice, but with the added comfort of knowing nothing's going to let go. I've ridden with disk wheels before and never had quite the same problem although I can't remember ever having ridden in such strong crosswinds on anything. For the record, the Buell on the return journey wasn't affected by them, beyond a much less threatening tugging at the whole bike and a problem holding on when we turned into the wind for the last ninety mile stretch. I think the majority of the problem comes from having less weight than the FatBoy to pin the bike to the ground, but there is a second problem which stems from the radical steering geometry, and that is a tendency for the wind to take a hand in steering the bike, using the pivoting disc as a sort of rudder. It is particularly noticeable in freak winds, which are thankfully uncommon around here … and when passing trucks. Ooops. The front wheel is kicked out so far that it catches any prevailing winds before they affect the rest of the bike. It, again, is nothing terminal, and it is something you account for after the first initial detour towards the other side of the road, but it is disconcerting to say the very least.

Lets get into the rationale though.

You only get one chance to make a first impression.

It's a common-enough expression, and one that won't have escaped the marketing department at H-D. The V-Rod made a massive impression because it was many things to many people. Everyone who saw it, SAW it. They looked at it properly, because it held their attention. It did so because the steering geometry was more radical than anything out of any mainstream manufacturer. It did so because the disk wheels were so stunning. It did so because the styling bore testament to the draftsman's art. Oh yes, and look! It's got a DOHC water-cooled engine.

What did you see?

I'd guess you saw the wheels and you saw the forks, and then you saw the shape, and then you saw the engine.

What if the geometry had been less radical? What if the wheels had been stock spoked alloys ones - even if they'd been borrowed from Buell to accommodate the tyre fitment, and given twin discs to shut up those who believe all bikes need them? What if the seat had been the one that is now fitted to most of the demonstrators across the UK? I'll tell you what. You'd have seen the engine earlier, that's what, and in a very conservative market, the engine is the thing they've got to sell. It is so radically different to anything they've put on the street before, that they'll need the chance to demonstrate to people that it is the future - whether they are existing Harley owners who have bought into the idea that a 45-degree Vee is sacred, or the potential customer who believes that a 45-degree air-cooled OHV has nothing to offer in the 21st Century.

If you don't see it and gasp, you're less likely to want to swing a leg over it, and if you don't do that, you won't know what you're missing. And you really would be missing something special. If you check out the demonstrators in the dealers now, you will generally be looking at a model with a more comfortable seat and a screen which doesn't do it many favours, but you will see the unadulterated V-Rod: it was born a style icon, and that takes some doing. I've never ridden a bike before that has attracted so much attention from so broad a range of people. I was asked how I liked it while I was riding through towns - and that is riding, not stopped; I was accosted by pensioners who rather than wanting to tell me they'd had one just like it when they were younger, were confirming that it was the V-Rod; and one bloke wound down his van window at the lights to tell me it was the best looking bike he'd ever seen in his life … ever.

Lastly, while waxing lyrical as to its charms, the first impression of its iridescent aluminium is as nothing compared to what you see when you catch sight of yourself in a shop window. I'm not one for doing that: far too self-effacing, y'see, but I was mesmerised. If you've ever wondered what the fuss was about, in tales of yore, when a knight on a shining white steed hove into view, ride a V-Rod and you'll find out: a bizarre analogy, I'll grant you, but don't dismiss it. Black knight on shining steed is closer with my preference for copious amounts of black leather, but even then the contrast is even more astonishing. The aluminium really does glow as the microscopic brush marks catch and reflect the natural light in a way that you just can't show in photographs or in show halls, and as the new owners of the first production V-Rods ride them out, the public at large will see them again as if for the first time. It really does have that much impact.

Having made the first impression, I'm looking forward to seeing what the designers will come up with that is a less radical and more practical model. Stick the upside-down forks and wheels from an X1 into it and you'll attract less attention but will have a better bike for the purpose of riding - and you'll be able to keep the rake at the expense of a modicum of understeer. Sticking the footrests under the rider's backside, and dropping the handlebars will give a more sporty, aggressive stance that will give you the opportunity to get more from the engine - I noticed that the gearchance linkage for the forward controls incorporated a very long rod that met the engine cases in exactly the right place for such a gearshift, but that might be a legacy from the beginnings of the VR as a race bike. Whatever they do, it will be better received on the basis it will be seen as a sibling to the V-Rod.

But, back to the plot.

In all the important ways, the V-Rod is very much a modern Harley-Davidson in the way it handles. Forget what you're told about the vagueness of handling on the rest of the range, they've all got taut frames these days, and their handling is largely determined by tyre fitment and ground clearance. Big twins are let down only by the width of the rear of the drive train where the clutch basket sticks out, which limits how far you can lay them down - and which is where Sportsters win out - but I would happily pitch a Staged Dyna Super Glide Sport against a V-Rod through a twisty circuit: happier still if I could stick the same sort of tyres onto said Super Glide Sport having seen the difference that a modern tyre can make to the performance of the Softail chassis as in the Deuce. I don't think it is a coincidence that the Deuce is the closest thing to a V-Rod in riding terms, and I wonder how much of a test-bed the Deuce was in its development. Apart from the understeer, you could switch between the two bikes without much of an account being made for either of them, which isn't to say that the V-Rod isn't impressive in its road manners, but is more to applaud the improvements made in the rest of the range. It also isn't to say that the Deuce and V-Rod are interchangeable, because they're not.

From the first day, the V-Rod has been considered as the ultimate replacement for the Big Twin and it was only as I rode it round that I realised it's only an 1130cc engine. An odd realisation because I've always known it, but it hadn't occurred to me that it was therefore smaller than a 1200 Sportster. Despite that, it feels more than a little like a big twin if you ride it like a big twin, and that's quite astonishing in itself. Granted, and as mentioned earlier, it hasn't got the bottomless torque of the 1450 - just as the Twin Cam lacks the bottom end torque of the Panhead - and you'd be advised to avoid short-shifting at take-off in the way you are almost encouraged to do on a big twin, because much more than 10mph feels as though you're mauling the engine. It doesn't really matter when you've got 50mph on tap without cogging-up, and you're better off leaving it in first for all heavy town traffic work, only snicking into second when the congestion eases. Still, it will cruise through the countryside, on highways and byways in almost exactly the same way … until you need to pass something.

You're going to expect me to acknowledge a need to change down and wind it open aren't you?

I know I would've.

I've ridden enough high revving bikes to know how power compromises torque, but that's not always the case. If you've ridden an XS1100 you'll be at home on the V-Rod because the torque generated by the 'Rod is much the same: you open it up and it goes - and with the added advantage of getting round the next corner without soiling yourself. No fancy footwork on the gearshift, no need to even enquire as to the ability to shift without the intervention of the clutch: you just grab a handful of throttle and off it goes.

But a big twin does that, too - or at least a Stage One Big Twin does that too - certainly at semi-legal A-road speeds, so what's the big deal. The big deal is that it pulls for as long as you wind it open. It pulls beyond the point where you'd snick into fifth, and beyond where you wish you could go up into sixth. And it does it on A-roads at less legal speeds beyond the gaze of the cameras, and on motorways too. You get a slight rustle from the valve train at 3,500prm and then it just pulls. Strongly. With a different character? No, not really. It might be revving at engine speeds beyond the experience of Harley riders of old, but it still feels like a Harley and never once did I feel I was aboard anything else.

Another surprise - and a pleasant one - was that the exhaust note came through under power to provide quite a nice tone that really is crying out to be released further and I'm looking forward to playing with a bike with Screamin Eagle pipes.

Someone, somewhere between Milwaukee and Porsche's development plant in Stuttgart, has been doing their homework and they must surely be due top marks. If the Japanese had developed this engine, they'd have made bigger in-roads into the cruiser market years ago, because it has the one commodity that the Japanese should have been building into their engines but couldn't, or wouldn't and didn't: character. I'd venture to suggest that if Harley-Davidson knew they could build so much soul into a DOHC short-stroke, watercooled V-Twin a few years ago, we might not have seen the Twin Cam. But that presupposes that the doom-mongers are right in thinking that the V-Rod's descendants will usurp the air-cooled 45-degree OHV twin that made Milwaukee significantly more famous than any alcoholic beverage ever could. That's something we'll have to wait and watch for. I suggest it will also have more to do with our elected leaders' plans to save the planet than the technical aspirations of Harley themselves.

It is perhaps fitting that after a couple of decades of being copied by most of their rivals, all intent on stuffing the classic American v-twin silhouette with high-tech engineering, Harley themselves should be working away, reinventing themselves again with world-class engineering and creating a completely new machine to blow away their competition. That it should happen just one year before the hundredth birthday makes sure that the Motor Company is very much in the public eye in time for its biggest ever party, without stealing the limelight from the event itself.

I was cynical. I do cynical really quite well, I feel, especially in the face of marketing department hype, and I found it easy to look upon the V-Rod as being the unacceptable face of progress within a firm renowned for its traditional heart. But I was wrong. The VR demonstrates that Harley care enormously about what they're doing. They could have knocked out more environmentally-efficient water-cooled, OHC versions of their existing range, styled to look like they were air-cooled "classics" and carried on for another hundred years with little more than rumble of disapproval. Or they could have bitten the bullet and started again with a clean slate: there are enough engines sitting around that they could've harnessed. But they didn't.

The V-Rod is not a matter of technology for technology's sake, but a harnessing of appropriate technology to produce an uncompromising Harley-Davidson, and I applaud them for that. I would've liked a more attractive valve train cover on what we're used to calling the primary side of the engine, but that is the only styling criticism I can level against an engine that bears all the hallmarks of a very image-conscious development process. Look at the original Triumph and the Victory engine, both of which have the right internals, but outside could do with a modicum of input from a stylist to finish off what the engineers started. It may lack the classic lines of its forebears but it isn't ashamed of the fact and positively flaunts it in a manner that their Japanese rivals haven't yet dared to try on a cruiser.It'll be interesting to see whether the FireStorm and TL1000 motors get chromed-up and shoe-horned into radical frames to capitalise on Harley's attempts to drag the cruiser market into the 21st century.

It will be interesting if they do, because unlike the potential spoilers from Japan, the VR disguises its mechanical complexity fairly well, which isn't easy on a water-cooled motor, and aside from the vertical hose that meets the engine mid-block at the pump, it doesn't suffer from excessive waterways. I don't even mind the much-maligned radiator shroud. Okay, so the scoops do look a little StarTrek-like, but I hadn't realised that the central bit was solid - and one of the few noticeable lumps of plastic on the bike - which keeps the dead bugs and stone chippings off the radiator. But while the attention to detail in the external appearance of the motor is laudable, it is the strength of the motor's power delivery that marks it out as a Harley thoroughbred, and one that will make its mark among the existing riders of the marque.

The gearbox on the testbike shared the problems reported with other pre-production models, in that it had a fairly clunky feel which has been traced to excessively heavy clutch springs in the models presented to the press in the US. I'm not sure about that, but I look forward to a sweeter change on the production models. It may be that the extra-long transfer linkage has some bearing on it but we're always given to believe than an underslung box is easier to get right than a separately housed cluster so I'd anticipate an improvement in this department. It was pointed out to me that the existing boxes sometimes require a bit of a stab, but I have to say that it is perfectly possible to run them up and down the gears quietly when timed correctly - and the one on my Buell is quite the nicest shift I've known - despite the original convoluted rearset conversion. It is also irrelevant on the basis that this isn't a gearbox that has been transplanted from its separate shell behind the engine to live within the cases, but a wholly new gearbox with more in common with a Kawasaki than a Twin Cam - and I never managed to make the jump from second to third, or fourth to fifth without a significant audible confirmation.

That really is small potatoes (small potato-potato?) in the grand scheme of things: it is a new model and has so few common parts between itself and anything else in the range as to make the Sportster look like a big twin's twin. It's an interesting exercise to try and spot the common parts, and we got as far as the brake callipers, the front indicators and the "cowbell" horn, and the latter shouldn't have been there anyway - I have no idea what happened to the original model-specific device, but you can be sure that it didn't vibrate off. To have embraced - or invented - so many new concepts in a single bike is something that no-one seriously considered Harley-Davidson to be capable of - even its staunchest supporters - and to have carried it off so well has given them a new credibility in a Sportsbike-dominated world that had all-but written them off a decade ago.

The concern was always that even if they could manage to pull it off, that they would only do so at the expense of their traditional models, engineering principles and customer base, but I would urge anyone who feels The Motor Company have sold out to swing a leg over the V-Rod and try it for themselves. It won't suit everyone - you can't please all of the people, all of the time - but it will certainly demonstrate that the Motor Company is still very much in the business of making Harley-Davidsons.

Sadly, I didn't quite manage to put the promised thousand miles on - or even a thousand kilometres if it comes to it - but did ride for 800km through wind and rain until I was soaked to the skin, sore of butt and sick of washing it, and I still loved it as much at the end as the beginning. I have to say that the novelty wore off quite early, largely due to the weather and the need to keep it clean, and while I'd love to be able to report that it is a wipe clean with a damp rag affair, it isn't. It may look smooth and non-stick but it is so shiny that it shows every blemish. Wonderful for maximum impact, but not so good for ownership, and I'd be surprised to see many out in bad weather. Well, not twice, at least.

And then there is the big question. The biggest question.

Would I have one?

No. Not the current V-Rod because it is too compromised by its role and because I haven't got the space, nor the money to be able to put one in a glass cabinet and gaze upon its wondrous curves, but I'd certainly consider a more practical VR-based model in the future - especially a Buell-wheeled, upside-down forked, black one along the lines of the one shown right - there's nothing like a bit of mischief with PhotoShop to make people look twice. That would bring the fleet to three because while the Buell may get replaced, it will only ever be replaced by another Buell with its oh-so nimble handling and effortless power delivery from 3k upwards; and the Glide would only every be replaced by another big twin because I love the bottomless torque and easy-going nature of the old warhorse.

And I hope that is how Harley view it: an addition rather than a replacement for as long as legislation allows.

There is only one thing more to add, and that is the ride back on the Buell, having just parted with the V-Rod gave me renewed admiration for Erik's abilities, because the power he's unleashed from the humble Sporty really does impress. And while the V-Rod is undoubtedly a more modern development, the Buell felt newer and even if earlier mentions of putting a Twin Cam FXDX against a V-Rod would make an interesting comparison, the M2 Buell would decimate it in every environment I can think of, and I couldn't help but wonder what Erik could unleash from a Twin Cam. That said, the V-Rod stopped traffic in a way that the Buell has never done and that is all down to styling: the function of the Buell might always win on the road, but the form of the V-Rod will always take the honours on the high street.

You pays your money …

Second Opinion:
Words: Rich

Any nagging doubt that Harley-Davidson's ground-shattering V-Rod might have been a bit too ambitious a launch, that the motorcycle styling was a bit too avant-garde, or that the engine at the heart of the machine a bit too … well, Japanesey, has evaporated.

There aren't that many tooling around here in Blighty yet - which will have more to do with the weather than sales, I suspect - but there were certainly a good number cruising the streets of Daytona. And so confident were Harley USA of shifting a good number more, that they had laid on a whole fleet of demo 'Rods - don't know what the collective noun is: a flock, Mandie helpfully noted - separate from the rest of the H-D line-up, and which went out on their own special, you can't come, V-Rod only ride-outs. Oooh …

Custom V-Rods were already starting to make an appearance in the custom shows as well, usually a paint job and go-faster bits, but sometimes a bit more ambitious: a German outfit with mad leading link forks springs to mind here.

Another interesting point, if only to me, was that the owner/riders of these private V-Rods looked were cast in the same mould as the other Harley riders rumbling around. It's no big secret that Harley-Davidson, and in Europe especially, deliberately targeted their new bike at non-Harley sympathetic media, in an attempt to reinvent and reintroduce the marque to everyone else on the planet. Whether that attempt was successful and ordinary run-of-the-mill hog-pilots went out and bought them anyway, or that these V-Rod riders were indeed weaned off other exotica and had just bought the gear to go with the bike, I dunno, but certainly those queues of potential V-Rod owners waiting for a demo ride were chiefly Harley owners already and only a smattering had ridden in on something else. Again though - and this is the last circuit in this spiralling argument up my own behind, I promise - that might say more about who actually goes to Daytona than any comprehensive overview of the American market. There, I've stopped.

But what of the bike itself? My first go was very short: thirty minutes and a circular run to Stockport, taking in a couple of favourite roundabouts, some sweeping bends, a couple of motorways and a glorious long straight to test the straight line acceleration.

My first impression was quite surprising. The machine, despite its radical styling and motor so unlike anything Harley had produced before actually felt almost disappointingly familiar - there was no doubt at all in my mind I was on a Harley. The controls, the seating position, even the motor thumping away at low revs, said 'You're riding a Harley'. I'd expected to have to tame this unfamiliar and awesome beast, expected some teething troubles, but no: I tootled off up the street and into the traffic, feeling immediately at home.

I did notice the rake and although it didn't slap into a crazy lock at low speed, like bad choppers do, I did notice the front end lag as I pulled out onto the main drag. That rake helped the machine feel oh-so-stable though, even crawling behind sub-15mph traffic the V-Rod was going nowhere unexpectedly. Through a set of traffic lights, the lane split into two and I took my first opportunity to wind open the throttle, the 'Rod surged forward, emitting a proper growl from the 'pipes. Very impressive, and hinting at fun to come. Finally I reached a motorway slip road and easily snicked the machine into neutral while I waited for the lights to change. I realised only then that I hadn't yet actually had the V-Rod out of second gear! All the way through the city traffic, I hadn't needed to - the engine -incredibly smooth with such a wide band of ever increasing torque with a gigantic rev-range - had taken it all well within its stride.

Lights change: time to wind it up properly. From a standing start to 70mph effortlessly. Tons of power safely on tap, the machine accelerated to the speed of the traffic travelling the motorway long before I had to worry about slipping into it. Plenty of power again, to whip around it into the fastest lane and seriously good brakes to stop it again at a roundabout as the motorway finished at a set of lights. Having trickled through the waiting vehicles to the line I was able to turn on the tap again, swinging left under power and noting that, even cranked over while chewing through the gears, the machine was uncannily stable and sure footed. Only at a set of long fast sweeping bends a couple of miles down the hill, was I reminded again of the rake: not that the V-Rod couldn't handle the sweep, it didn't budge an inch, but it certainly was no twitchy sports machine. The V-Rod was still a cruiser, but it was just a very, very good one. Bags more power, loads better brakes, a well thought-out configuration and, of course, looks to stun a camel from fifty paces, propel the V-Rod into virtually it's own class of super-cruiser.

A month later, courtesy of Paul James from Harley-Davidson USA, I had another V-Rod out on test. This time I had the bike overnight so had more time to decide whether I actually liked it or not. Over a longer distance I began to realise that the seat could become a tad tiresome: it was quite limiting, holding you in place, you couldn't wriggle around quite so much, and it was fairly hard after you'd compacted the limited padding. I wasn't totally happy with the siting of the handlebars either, while they caused me no discomfort whatsoever, and allowed for excellent control over the machine, they just didn't feel quite right: perhaps they could be a little bit wider. Perhaps it's a deliberate ploy to slightly disturb you enough to get you to buy an aftermarket set.

As I made my way from Daytona Beach to New Smyrna on some lesser-used A and B type roads, it was a fairly warm overcast evening but it certainly wasn't stupid hot. The traffic, however, was still fairly heavy and there were seemingly millions of traffic lights which I couldn't filter to the front of. Although the machine behaved impeccably, didn't falter, or even hint at faltering once, I did notice how blisteringly hot the motor was getting and was relieved when I could open the machine up to 60 to 70mph across a set of open bridges, which also benefited from a sea breeze and the motor rapidly seemed to cool.

The return trip much later at night was a delight, though: lighter traffic, clearer air and the V-Rod loving every minute of it. At speed, the V-Rod's slightly irritating cam-train whine is replaced by a throaty mellow boom from the business end of the exhausts. Not loud, just there … and nice. The V-Rod was a totally civilised companion on the return to Daytona, eating up the miles competently and comfortably. The bike is really impressively finished and feels so well constructed and bullet-proof that you suspect that you could drop one off of the Sears Tower and it would still fire up first press of the button, but with even this lucky, longer second ride of the V-Rod, the bike still failed to really reach deep into my being, grab hold and force me to grin and love it. It still got the glances, was easy to ride and though it could really move, it didn't really move me. And so I wasn't desperately sad when I dropped it off back at the International Speedway early the next morning for another hard day as a demo bike.

Like many, many other lucky writers who have ridden the V-Rod, I would agree wholeheartedly that the Harley-Davidson V-Rod is a stunningly realised and exceptional machine: it is an instant classic but, unlike its air-cooled siblings, the 'Rod just isn't enough … well, … fun. And that's a pretty important consideration when I'm choosing a motorcycle.

Specifications        

Engine:	8v DOHC Revolution. Liquid-cooled 60° V-twin.
Displacement:	1130cc
Compression Ratio:	11.3:1
Bore & Stroke:	100 x 72mm
Torque:	115hp @ 8500rpm
Torque:	100NM @ 7000rpm
Fuel System:	Electronic fuel injection
Exhaust System:	2-into-1-into-2
Oil Capacity:	3.8 litres
Fuel Capacity:	15 litres (includes reserve)
Primary Drive:	High contact ratio spur gear
Final Drive:	Kevlar belt
Overall Length:	2375.6mm
Seat Height:	659.9mm
Ground clearance:	142.1mm
Rake/Trail:	34 degrees / 99mm
Brakes:	2 x 292 x 5.08mm front 1 x 292 x 5.84mm rear
Wheels:	19 x 3-inch cast disc front. 18 x .5-inch cast disc rear
Tyres:	120/70 x 19 Dunlop D207 radial front 180/55 x 18 Dunlop D207 radial rear
Wheelbase:	1713mm
Dry Weight:	270kg
Lean Angles:	32° left / 32° right
Instruments:	Electronic Speedo with odometer, re-settable trip meter and diagnostic capabilities and solid-state tell-tale indicator module. Tacho. Fuel Gauge.
Colour Options:	Anodized aluminium body panels, silver powder painted frame
Price:	£13,995 Prices include usual otr inc. PDI, full tank of fuel, 12-months tax, first service, 12 months membership of Harley Owners Group (HOG) including their European roadside recovery