The only new numbers are recent ones, because I don’t recall any previous Harley being an 88 or an 1130cc. I also don’t recall Harley-Davidson ever referring to the XL1200 as a 74, but that’s what it is. What price your big twin now?

It would be nice to report that it shared the same internal dimensions and the 74-inch Big Twins but the Sportster has stayed true to its 3.81-inch stroke since 1957 while the FL was a sliver under 4-inches? Not an awful lot in it really, and certainly not enough to point out the Big Twin as a long stroke compared to the revvy little Sportster, but then it was only as they took the XL’s bore out to get to 1200cc that the bore started to catch up with the stroke.

If someone told you of a 74-inch solid mount Harley, you wouldn’t think of an XL but of a Shovelhead big twin. Rich has long argued that the Sportster is the last true Harley, and against that background, it’s an unassailable position. Or it was until Harley introduced the new generation Sportsters. Slowly but surely, Harley have dragged their model range kicking and screaming into the modern age, and that they’ve done it without significantly compromising the bikes that they’ve built their name on is nothing short of miraculous. First the Tourers, then the Super Glides got rubber-mounted to tame the vibes, more recently the Softails have been balanced to remove them. With the 2004 range, the last bastion of traditional models has learnt to bounce too, although not without paying a price, but we’ll have more of them in later issues. What of the bike that could be seen as the last of the proper Sportsters, as they will inevitably be seen by some, and specifically what of the ultimate incarnation of the 1200, the XL1200S Sportster Sport?

In full knowledge that its days were numbered, we took one out for old time’s sake, to look at it from the vantage-point of it being very much last year’s model – affording ourselves the luxury of viewing a model through rose-tinted spectacles with its paint scarcely dry.

I’ve been cruel about the 1200S in the past, and I have deliberately been so because in many ways it was a travesty. Not as much as an 883R, it has to be said, but a travesty nonetheless. It wasn’t that it was a bad bike, it was that it could have been so much better, it deserved to be so much better … so very much better.

It wasn’t that the engine was a dog, it’s that the engine vibrated like a jackhammer unless you went to the expense of getting it balanced – in which case, incidentally, it was a different bike again. We knew it wasn’t a dog, because Buell had demonstrated the potential within its aging cases. And that was it really. The excessive vibration ruined a perfectly good motorcycle, and everything that was done to the bike to make it better, made it rev harder and pull more strongly didn’t deal with the main obstacle to it performing as its name suggested it should.

Doesn’t matter how many spark plugs you put into it, how much you tweaked the suspension, or what compounds you put into the tyres, it was uncomfortable to ride when the revs went past 3,500rpm so you didn’t want to rev it that hard, and the rest of the development – for my money – was wasted. Sure, it would blast through city streets with a vengeance, and more comfortably than the wrist breaking Buell at traffic speeds, but so would a 1200C.

I have no doubt at all that it would pull clean through the three-figure mark into automatic ban country, but the truth was that you really didn’t want to because it wasn’t a nice place to go. Actually it felt as though you were hurting the bike before the needle cleared ninety-five and that is in direct contrast with my old 1200 FLH that cleared the ton with nothing more than a sensation that it was too busy, and revving a little too quickly for its own comfort, which I attributed to the gearing rather. Somewhat ironically, in light of the preamble, it was because the 1200 Shovel was actually a happy little spinner, but I didn’t realise that before gearing it up to such an extent it struggled to pull top gear, two-up on fairly modest inclines. But I digress. I have no doubt that the Electra didn’t vibrate as much because there was so much sheet metal, and cast iron damping down the vibes, but it doesn’t alter the fact that it achieved it more comfortably, with me sitting bolt-upright behind a set of dresser bars, on about 650lbs of steel, cast iron and aluminium – and before you start, it was using someone else’s speedo, not my own.

So this is going to be another slagging off the 1200S feature then is it?

No, but I needed to get that out of the way first because I’m going to spend the rest of my time singing its praises.

How can I do that, having just written it off so comprehensively?

By being as objective as I know how: the XL1200S wasn’t built for me, so there’s no point trying to put it into my own context. I’ve got to try to fit round it. Also, I’ve finally come to terms with the 883, and wondered whether it would make me any more appreciative of the S’s charms.

As is so often the case, the Sportster Sport we picked up from Wayside’s Towcester base was scarcely out of the box when we picked it up but it was unusual so late in the season: a test bike that the press hadn’t wanted to roadtest. A meagre forty-seven miles had passed beneath its wheels since its PDI, and I resigned myself to taking the hundred miles home on the A5 and A51 steadily. It’s not a bad thing, disciplining yourself to keeping the revs and speed down, because it provides a fresh challenge: making good time without travelling quickly. That means maintaining a good average speed, and there are few bikes better than a Sportster for playing that game with.

Free of the temptation to brake heavily into corners and accelerate hard on the exit, the lithe solid-mount Sportster frame uses every inch of its ground clearance to navigate roundabouts and sweeping bends without slowing. Free of the temptation to bury the needle in the red, the vibes don’t bite you either and the sportiest of the Sportsters maintains a composed demeanour. It was also significantly more frugal than any other 1200S I’d ridden, getting the best part of 130 miles on the trip meter, which I hadn’t reset when I collected the bike, but I noted it wasn’t full when I started, and I knew I’d done a hundred of them.

Resetting the trip when I filled it confirmed it wasn’t a fluke next time round, and all just a month after being amazed at how far an 883 covered between stops. How could I have been so damning of this well-mannered streetbike in the past? It’s as sweet as you could possible want.

In that twilight world of the running-in procedure, at least one part of Harley’s marketing spiel strikes a chord. Yes, the solid-mount engine providing additional stiffness to the chassis could well be the reason it’s so sure footed. Not so sure about the tacho being a "fun meter" though – more an instrument of torture when you’ve set yourself so low a ceiling.

The up-side of keeping the speed down is that you get to appreciate the adjustable forks and rear shocks – not that you’re going to test the benefits of remote reservoir shock absorbers very much, which is to keep the temperature of the damping fluid down when you’re giving it large on demanding B-roads. A judicious twist of a dial will switch the bike from a soft, smooth cruiser into a lightly strung, firmly-sprung, line-holding back-lane scratcher if you only take the time to experiment. Make the most of it on the 1200S because it’s gone for now with the arrival of the 2004 XL1200R. Harley have deemed that no-one wants it, but I suspect it might make a reappearance for a reintroduced 1200S in 2005 once they’ve gauged reaction to the new model. Why else would they not have reused the S moniker?

There’s only one sensible reason why wouldn’t people want adjustable suspension on a bike like the 1200S and that is that no-one has really encouraged them to experiment with its settings … well, two: the Sportster hasn’t really realised its potential in the Sports department unless it’s been worked on. On a range of motorcycles where the suspension is either accommodated, warts and all, or replaced entirely, the ability to adjust the preload or the damping of the forks is anathema. In fact at the risk of upsetting a few people, I’d expect that the majority of XL1200S owners don’t know how to adjust their compression damping, or even where the dial is … or why you’d want to adjust it in the first place. On a cruiser it doesn’t much matter, because you’re not going to be pushing it too hard. On a sportier bike however – assuming you’ve bought it to ride in a more enthusiastic way – it makes the difference between scaring yourself witless and embarrassing sports-bike riders, because if you can control where your wheels are, you can ride with more confidence.

On the S’s cartridge forks you have three adjustments. A 7/8ths hex nut at the top of each fork leg, where it sticks out above the top yoke, adjusts the preload, which is the amount you’re compressing the fork spring without it doing any work, thereby making it stiffer. Out of the top of that is a thumb dial that adjusts the rebound damping – or the speed at which the damping fluid allows the forks to return to their rest position. At the bottom of each fork leg is a second thumb dial that adjusts the compression damping, or the speed at which the damping fluid allows the spring to react to bumps in the road.

If the damping is set to minimum for compression and rebound, the front suspension relies on the spring to control the front wheel’s reaction to the road. Winding up the damping serves to kerb the fork spring’s enthusiasm, and controls it, but you can go too far.

Unlike conventional damping rod forks, where the oil passes through holes which can be shut off to adjust the damping, in a cartridge-type fork, the oil passes through much larger transfer ports, the rate of fluid flow controlled by flexible shims. Being flexible, the shims can be forced out of the way by the damping fluid itself under exceptionally heavy loads – big bumps in the road – but are otherwise still adjustable to make the gap that the fluid has to travel through smaller as required. The net advantage is that the forks have better damping across a range of conditions, but they are still only as good as the way they’ve been set up.

At the rear, gas shocks with remote reservoirs have the same three way adjustment: the collar round the base of the spring adjusts the preload, a highly visible dial atop the remote body controls the compression damping, and a less conspicuous dial above the lower shock mount to control the rebound damping. A gas shock keeps the oil damping fluid under compression, thereby preventing it from holding any gas or air in suspension – which is its normal state – as that can cause foaming as it passes the shock piston, and loses a lot of its damping properties.

So that’s what it is, what does it do?

Increasing the preload at either end makes the springs stiffer: they act as though they already have some weight on them – preloaded – and slightly reduce the maximum suspension travel. You should set the preload for you as the rider, and be aware of the implications of the additional weight of your regular pillion, making a note of the settings required when running two-up. When you sit on the bike, the suspension will compress slightly – called the "squat". What you need to do is to measure the upright, unloaded bike’s overall fork length and overall rear shock absorber’s length. Then, with an assistant to balance the bike, sit on it with both feet up and measure those distances again ... which sounds like another assistant to me.

The difference between those measurements, according to the book, should be between half an inch and an inch. If it’s more than that, increase the preload until it is. Then do the same with your pillion and work out how much further it needs adjusting to account for the extra weight, noting that the rear should need the attention much more than the front. You’ve now got four people, and the makings of a party. If you run out of preload before you get to the magic inch or under, stick with low-calorie mixers with your spirits or order a set of aftermarket shocks.

Before you crack a bottle or two, make sure that any suspension adjustment you’ve made is matched for left and right sides.

Ah, but we’ve not done damping yet. Damping is more subjective: firm or pliant? Too soft and it’ll wander and wallow, too firm and it’ll shake your fillings out on cobbles. The right setting will let the forks absorb the bumps and allow them to return to rest, or somewhere close, before the next one comes along.

If the compression damping is too hard, the fork will not absorb all of the bump, and pass a lot more on to you, if the rebound is too hard, it won’t recover in time for the next one.

If the compression damping is too soft, the forks will be able to compress very quickly to absorb the bump and continue compressing after you’ve passed it in extreme cases, leaving you with your wheels off the deck, although not for very long. Soft rebound damping will allow the forks to recover quickly but the spring could over-react, unsettle the handling. A pogo stick is great example of an under damped spring and it’s not for nothing that we refer to people pogoing off down the road on knackered forks or suspension. The additional weight of a pillion will have a damping effect in itself, so it’s worth considering adjusting the settings of the rear shocks particularly when running two up.

Same thing applies as regards matching left and right, and it’s worth know what your damping settings are in case someone adjusts them for an unfunny joke. Forks have seventeen positions, rear shocks, fourteen.

Great things, are adjustable shocks, when you know how to set them up, and I for one will miss them.

Running in doesn’t, however, give you opportunity to use the more than adequate braking that the S gets. Those twin 4-pots up front will drag the 500lbs of Sportster Sport to a halt as quickly as the rubber and weight will allow, and significantly more quickly than your waterproof-trousered lower torso would like, as there is nothing for your knees to grip under heavy braking, and you slide forwards in a most undignified manner. A single example of the same calliper is far more than is necessary on so short a wheelbase, as it will lock the back wheel if you use it in anger. Knowing the same combination of brakes haul up the Dyna Sport, and aren’t too shabby on that, is all very confidence inspiring.

Running-in also doesn’t give you the chance to really test out the riding position at speed – which has always been a bit of a bugbear, I have to admit. With the footrests mounted about twelve inches further back, and the brake and gear-change to match them, it would make a better euro-’fighter, and take comfort into another dimension. After an hour in the saddle I was a little weary and adopted Rich’s trick of kicking out the pillion rests and using them on open roads – being very pleased to notice that my gibbon-like arms were able to reach the gearshift, and execute some very clean clutchless shifts: so now it’s a hand-shift 74-inch solid mount – how traditional do you want it?

As the miles accrued, as it felt comfortable, I occasionally ventured further round the dial: nothing silly, and still not enough to bring out the vibes that lurks above 4k, but even at 3,500 it was still remarkably pleasant. Engaging, involving, and just nudging the wrong side of the speed limit so perhaps it shouldn’t be sniffed at, but let’s remind ourselves that we are talking about the bike that is being touted as a Sport.

The engine isn’t without its sporting pretensions, and it would be fascinating to stick a 1200S into a post 2004 chassis and see what it could have delivered for those brave enough to cling to its vibrating bars … except there are a couple of bits of alloy missing from its cases that preclude such a transplant, and if you’re going to go to the lengths of sticking the S internals onto new cases, you might as well balance the crank, blueprint the bottom end and make the most of the 50lb weight saving over its replacement.

And what, pray, are the sporting additions that make the 1200S into the bike that it is?

Twin plug, high-compression heads, with an 8% increase in gas flow at both inlet and exhaust ports, and hot cams to feed and exhaust it properly. It offers more appreciably more torque at lower revs than the existing 1200 XLs, and more horses too, but to be honest, the new 1200R offers more … well one more horse and we expect it to be further round the dial so perhaps the 1200S has a little more life in it yet.

Balanced, I’d say it has.

We tested a balanced and tweaked 1200S that was built by Big Rock and known as the XL1200RR – which is still on the American-V website in the head-to-head section under "01 XL1200SS vs FXDX103" (well, we didn’t know it was an RR so suggested it was probably an SS). That bike shifted, didn’t vibrate and delivered appreciably more than the stock S, and even the new R, so don’t go writing it off just yet – if you’ve got access to obsolete stock, a pair of Thunderstorm heads, barrels and pistons on a blueprinted 1200S bottom end and you’ve got a Sportster to be reckoned with.

Beyond the trick suspension and the engine tweaks the Sportster Sport is really a cosmetic job, and appearance is everything to a lot of Harley buyers. If it wasn’t they’d have bought Buells, and I do wonder how many 1200Ss were bought for their crossed flag badges and matt black silencers, in which case the last of the breed represents something of a dilemma. The racing motifs are gone in favour of the all-pervading Anniversary badges – well, if the Fat Boy can lose its military metaphor for a season, what hope for the S? The matt black pipes were similarly cast aside, probably because there was little point in making a special pipe for 2003, and by 2004 the plumbing would be very different, losing forever the balance pipe beneath the air box.

Perhaps then the 2002 was the quintessential XL1200S? Maybe, but there’ll always be a place for the 2003 models, with so many having shared in the 100th Anniversary celebration, in which case this Vivid Black is vying with the Gunmetal Pearl for the top of the shop honours, as the two-tone was far too pretty for the last of the proper Sportsters.

I think I should qualify that further. I love Dynas, but I’m coveting a 4-speed Low Rider. I’m well aware of the improvements of the balanced Twin Cam Softails over their almost unhinged Evo predecessors. And I recognise the improvements of the XB12 over my own Cyclone but I’m not even considering switching.

The solid mount Sportster is not my cup of tea. It wasn’t made with me in mind and I doubt you will ever see my name on the log-book of one – it would need to be very cheap because it lacks the flexibility I demand of my bikes. The new Sportster might well be the bike that will bring me into XL ownership, and sounds like it has resolved the flexibility issue, but for all its attraction it is compromised. The figures we’ve seen suggests it lacks the power that would give it its identity back, and it sounds like it has put a few too many pounds on to be quite so pure a motorcycle and for all the XL1200S’s failing from my vantage point, I cannot deny it is a pure motorcycle.

The 1200S is rock and roll. It is Elvis before he went into the Army. It’s a fifties T-Bird, or a sixties ’Vette, or a seventies Camaro. It’s not without its issues, but those issues are part of its charm.

I am looking forward to the XL1200R but I only hope it’s not going to start singing "Wooden Heart" at me. I reckon a lot of Sportster traditionalists will be queueing up for their last chance at a new pure expression of their ideal bike.

Second Opinion:
Words: Rich

Swinging my leg over the 2003 1200S was like meeting an old friend, I’ve ridden them before and very rarely had anything nasty to say about them – so I was thoroughly looking forward to riding this one too. I wouldn’t have too long to test it, perhaps just 90 miles. But it was a gloriously hot day and the roads had been carefully picked to make my ride to this year’s Bulldog Bash particularly memorable. This in addition, after all, being perhaps the last ever time I would be privileged to ride a brand new solid mount Sporty.
I knew what to expect. The 1200S is as uncompromising a ride as any bike on the current market. The Sportster Sport is tall in the skinny saddle and firmly set up from the factory, rigid almost … and the solid mounted, 1200cc V-Twin, aircooled, push rod engine does vibrate. Archaic sounding perhaps to a majority of modern motorcycle riders or ‘a proper bike!’ to many others.

It hides nothing, what you see is what you get. A lean, tall and by today’s standards, surprisingly small motorcycle … if you don’t look at the engine of course. What there is of the Sport hangs together very well, it is a very handsome beast – especially in the flesh – though less so when a gert fat lump like me is perched upon it, when the smallness of the machine is made much more apparent. This one looked especially nice because it was black – black works on motorcycles anyway, so much so it should be obligatory, and on a good looking machine to start with you’re more or less laughing. A shame then about the damnable ‘2003 Anniversary’ stripe defacing the petrol tank. Still, the other 2003 touches were welcome: the plaque on the handlebar mount; the plaque on the left side of the motor; the extremely whizzy mirrors … all a bit of 2003 range added value, and perhaps, as the last of a line (quite literally), all the more collectable.

Aircooling works. Forget what it says in Spunk Bike, Missile Weekly or Plastic Torpedo. Even though Andy had only been waiting at the Services for five or so minutes, just before midday, on the hottest day of the last two centuries, the Sportster Sport did prefer a tad of choke to get it ticking sweetly when I got hold of the key. Didn’t need much though and pretty soon my dib was squished and we were underway.

Straight onto a motorway is not the very best place to discover the best points of any solid-mount Sporty. Sure the Sportster Sport’s twin plug heads along with 1200cc of V-Twin torque ensured that this un-staged, 300 mile old Sportster spun up to 65-70mph equally as rapidly as my own staged 1340 Road King in front but it wasn’t where the bike wanted to be this early on in its life. There was the familiar buzz through pegs, bars and bum of a tight Sportster and while it was more than capable of going much quicker, I’m not that much of a bastard. Andy and I didn’t wish to stay on a motorway any longer than we had to and therefore we took the first available exit.

Ah, now it all made sense. Rolling comfortably along at 65-ish, through swinging bends and over roundabouts, the Sportster Sport was truly in its element. The brakes were superb, plenty of feel and powerful – the twin discs up front, if anything, overkill, unless you’ve spent good money releasing the monster lurking within the engine or ... well, ride like a prat. There was good ground clearance on both sides of the machine, but the taut frame and commanding riding position suggested the pegs would kiss the ground more often with a looser, fully run-in motor.

Tighter bends saw me close up on the tail of the Road King extremely quickly and without trying. The Sport is such a secure and confidence inspiring platform that the rider often is quite unaware quite how quick they’re charging through a dry bend unless they are with other machines. I found myself more often braking after a bend rather than before, to avoid denting the ’King’s rear mudguard. I had neither the time nor the inclination to tamper with the Sportster Sport’s fully adjustable suspension, it was pretty good how Andy had left it, but it was nice to know I could tamper if I’d wanted, without shelling out a small fortune on after-market performance springs and forks.

The 2003 Sportster Sport makes an awful lot of sense to me, even now with the imminent arrival of Spongy Sporties. There’s no Sport in next year’s model line-up – yet – Harley apparently do not feel that riders wish to have performance orientated bits attached to their motorcycles. So what the solid mount 1200 Sport offers is a ready-made truly sporting Sportster out of the box, sans a desperately hot motor.

Loosened up over a couple of thousand careful miles, and stage one’d, an owner may well feel that the machine is right as it is. After all, the motor doesn’t vibrate nearly as much now, and it’ll see past the ton easily. But you can go further in making the engine pump out more horses and other Sportsters would really require a lot of money spending in after-market running gear to get the best out of the hot motor. The XL1200S Sportster Sport comes with all that fitted out of the box – and furthermore, for now at least, the newbies don’t, so grab it while you can – solid mount or not, the XL1200S might just start to look like a bargain.

Specifications        

Model:	2003 XL1200S Sportster Sport
Engine:	1199cc, air-cooled 45-degree V-Twin
Bore & Stroke:	88.8 x 96.8mm
Compression Ratio:	10.0:1
Fuel System :	Carburettor
Power:	not quoted
Torque:	96NM @ 3000rpm
Drive Train:	5 speed gearbox. Triple row chain primary drive. Belt final drive
Chassis:	Tubular steel duplex cradle with twin rear shocks
Rake & Trail:	30 degree / 117mm
Length:	2250mm
Wheelbase:	1515mm
Seat Height:	711mm
Ground clearance:	170mm
Weight:	240kg
Fuel Capacity:	12.5 litres
Suspension:	Front: Telescopic forks Rear: Twin shocks
Brakes:	Front: Twin disks with four pot callipers Rear: Single disk with four pot calliper
Wheels & Tyres:	Front: 19 inch 13 spoke cast wheel with 100/90-19 51V Rear: 16 inch 13 spoke cast wheel with 130/90B16 64V
Colours:	Vivid Black, Gunmetal Pearl, Luxury Rich Red Pearl, White Pearl, Luxury Blue Pearl
RRP:	£7,445 OTR inc VAT (R/W/B) £7,445 OTR inc VAT (Bk) £7,545 OTR inc VAT (G)