Starting Prices
Words: Andy Hornsby
Pics: Andy Hornsby, Rich King
& Harley-Davidson photo library

We've waffled on at length about the Sportster not being an entry level Harley and this particular feature is aimed at setting the record straight, once and for all.

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It is a strange concept, to call motorcycles costing between five and twelve-and-a-half grand "entry-level" bikes, but it's either that or consider the 883 to be the entry level bike of the range, and that is doing nobody any favours.

Certainly the £4995 XLH883 Sportster is the cheapest of the entire Harley-Davidson range, but any Sportster is markedly different to any big twin to such an extent that a potential big-twin buyer could be put off the idea of a Harley at all on first acquaintance with an 883. Or vice versa. If a Sportster is your bag, anything else might have exactly the same effect.

Then you have the FXD Dyna Super Glide: nine-and-a half thousand of your English pound's worth of streetbike. The cheapest of the big twins and a very capable motorcycle, but too heavy to a Sportster lover, and too non-descript for a classic apes-and-flames custom fan in this base form.

Old-fashioned custom fans would be better looking at the Softail Standard for another seven-hundred quid and get the laid back rake, wide glides and tall skinny front wheel - oh yes, and the classic rigid-frame look-alike Softail chassis. But it wouldn't suit everyone: Sportster and Sportier Dyna riders would be astonished by the lack of ground clearance of the Softail, the riding position and lazy steering.

And then there's the tourers. An entry-level tourer? Surely not. But there is. It used to be the Electra Glide Sport, and in the US it would be the Electra Glide Standard that combines the plain finish engine with the bags and screen of the Electra, sans tourpac, stereo and a couple of gauges. In the UK, we have a fairly high entry level to touring, and it is the twelve-and-a-half grand FLHR Road King. Cheaper than the prettier Classic, it saves by not having fuel-injection, and utilising panniers that must have repaid their development time and jigging costs a dozen times over.

Each of these bikes make compromises - although the Road King slightly less than the others, being the only one that didn't by-pass the queues for the chroming bath before leaving the plant - but that doesn't mean that they are compromised by it. On the contrary, I would strongly suggest that they are more desirable bikes in a market where so many opportunities exists to help you realise your personal motorcycle ambitions - and to that end you do not need to compromise your ideals having shelled out an extra grand or so to bits that you're only going to take off and replace with your preferred choice. I like to think of each of these bikes as a blank canvas.

What isn't compromised is quality. That would be foolish, and I would defy anyone to find manufacturing compromises taken with any of them compared to their more exotic contemporaries. Take a stroll round any of these machines and you'll possibly be surprised to find model-specific bits and pieces that must have been more expensive to develop than to use something from the parts bin, and it is this, as much as the quality that means you don't save a massive amount, only a significant one.

So this is as much about the ranges as the bikes themselves, and there is a lot of sucking eggs going on here but hey, you've got to start somewhere.

Sportsters
Beloved of many, these relative lightweights of the Harley ranges have been around looking much the same as they do today since the introduction of the overhead valve motor in 1957. I'll temper my enthusiasm for going through a more detailed full history for another, more appropriate time, but the narrow frame, suspension at both ends and small tank have been trademarks of the Sportster from then 'til now. It replaced (via the sidevalve-engined Series K) the sidevalve "45" that represented more of an entry-level to the full range, but became more of a Sports alternative to the lumbering Pans and Knuckles, and was distinctly different in the role it performed - even if it was dressed up with fork shrouds and nacelles for a time.

Roadgoing Sportsters (just in case someone's going to raise early off-road XLH history) are, and realistically always have been streetbikes. Dress 'em up however you like, but that is where their basic strengths lie. That doesn't mean you can't go touring on one, just that there are far easier bikes to use for the purpose, and if you're buying a bike with an intention of covering vast mileages on I couldn't recommend a Sporty. If you're a city dweller looking for a versatile bike with style and good bottom-end performance you'd struggle to find a better bike. It'll do your weekend jaunts around the countryside without complaint and will put a smile on your face while you bounce around trying to get the lower exhaust to scrape the tarmac.

Other bikes in the other ranges can look a little bland for the lack of pretty finishes but with the Sportster it works in its favour. The black engine of the 1200S is good looking, sure, but it has the tendency to hide it away, shrinking it visually - especially from the primary drive side. No such thing with the vanilla 883: the diminutive engine looks as though it has been shoehorned into a frame a couple of sizes too small for it, and the result, for my money, is more distinctive. It actually looks bigger than the 1200.

On the downside, the stock 883, it has to be said, is not renowned for awesome power delivery by … well, by anyone really. If there was ever a bike in search of a Stage One kit, it is this, but as with any of the bikes here - or indeed any of their siblings - the bike you buy doesn't have to stay like that for long and it is here that the XLH883 scores big points over the rest of the Sportster range. If you've got £5k burning a hole in your pocket, you can get your foot on the ladder of Harley ownership. Run it around for a while, while you replenish your coffers, and then decide what you want it to do. Do you want it fast? More torquey? Prettier? All three? Can be done.

Faster? Sticking with the 883 capacity you could get it breathing and revving more freely with a Stage One kit, or even add cams and a bit more to make it Stage Two. Do 'em one at a time as finances allow and get used to the power as it develops, and get used to using the power that is available. Remember that the same basic frame is used by the 1200S, and you'll know that the chassis will more than handle the power on tap. Use the ground clearance and the new brakes and adapt your riding style to a flowing, flicking riding style than the full-throttle and hard braking that is more common among riders of bikes with lots more power. Getting from A to B quickly on an 883 Sportster is less about acceleration and braking and much more about maintaining good average speeds, and one way of achieving that is not to slow down in corners. As that style develops, think about shocks and tyres.

More torquey? Take it out to 1200. The most common thing with 883s is their use as a back door to getting a 1200 on the cheap. All the more useful these days with a lack of a straight XLH1200 in the range. The big-bore engine brings a change in the nature of the vibration, but is also bring significant improvements in power at the bottom end, as well as higher revs for as long as you can hold on to it. Same suspension mods make sense as the riding style develops, and the addition of more torque doesn't detract from the benefits of a smoother riding style.

Prettier? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and there are as many people who think the big twin styling looks right on a Sportster as consider it a travesty. We'll be doing a styling retrospective on the Sportster at some point in the future which might give you an idea of what has and hasn't worked, historically, but it's your bike and you're the one who'll have to shell out for the bits … and be seen on it. I'd tend towards the minimalist streetbike style myself, but that's largely because it's three parts finished already.

As an entry-level bike, the Sportster is cracking value. The shorter shocks on the Hugger add another three hundred quid, while the custom look piles on another eight over the basic. By the time you get to the 1200s you'll need another £2300 for either Sport or Custom, and that's a lot of extra dosh to lay out when you first want your wheels. A Stage1, Stage 2 or 1200cc conversion will cost money, but at least you've got the bike to ride about on while you save up the necessary - and as with anything with a Harley badge on the side of the tank, the alterations will seldom detract from the price. Custom accessories should be treated as personal additions in terms of resale unless you happen across a style that really brings out the best of the Sportster's styling cues.

 

Dyna Glides
Stylistically based on the seventies FXs (see retrospective), the FXD range is the oddity of the Harley range on the basis that it is actually two ranges in one, defined by an uncommon frame. Harley-Davidson do not build one Dyna chassis but two. The original was a 32-degree headstock on the Sturgis, Daytona and Custom in '91 and '92 when the Dynas stood alongside the FXRs, but when the Super Glide migrated to the Dyna, it was determined that the steeper 29-degree rake and sharper handling of the FXR had contributed greatly to its success and should be retained so a 28-degree headstock was added for the Super Glide, and retained for the Sport and T-Sport. This gives us a dilemma insofar as do we consider the Low Rider to be an entry-level custom Dyna? Tough one.

Certainly the Super Glide is offered as the raw material for a Euro-style performance streetbike, and as such it fits the bill nicely. The steep steering head makes it feel distinctly different to the Low Rider and Wide Glide in the bends, and lighter round town, but you would struggle to make a traditional custom out of it without recourse to raked yokes or serious reworking of the headstock. But then that's what the Softail Standard's there for isn't it? It's perhaps more tempting to consider the Super Glide as an entry-level big-twin streetbike, and you couldn't really fault it on that, but there are those who'll want the Dyna chassis for their custom but, generally, that market has traditionally opted for the solid-mount Softails. For the record, the differences between the Dyna Wideglide and the Softails will be covered in a head-to-head in 2002.

So, taking it as a big-twin streetbike, the Super Glide is a wonderful blank canvas. It saves a thousand pounds over the Sport by spurning a rev-counter, second front disk and wrinkle finish black engine, but a grand is a lot to put towards the stuff you'd really want - be it even better brakes, progressive shocks or just paint and accessories. The only other comparable bike - because of the geometry - is the T-Sport which adds another seven-hundred to the Sport for fairing, bags and cast wheels, but that really is another class of machine again. Comparing it to the Low Rider is probably unfair - at least to me, as the finish on the Low Rider is so well suited to the bike - but is it really £1500 more? To reproduce that style with the front end kicked out would involve a 4-degree rake incorporated into the yokes, and the implication of handling would need to be considered, but then let's not discount a quick-steering Low Rider. Hmmm …

As you move into big-twins, the floodgates of the tuning industry open wide and you can achieve almost anything that you want: 1550cc Dynas are increasingly common through dealers, and even 1700cc strokers are raising their heads. Yes, the Dyna is the natural home for the post-FXR performance streetbike. Tourers benefit from a little tweaking too, sure, but the increased weight and ponderous handling make it more of a safety margin than a search for absolute power, and the 88B Softails with their balance shafts haven't had anywhere near the same focus on them yet - it'll be interesting to see what impact major tuning has on their balance shafts.

One reason why the Dyna is so attractive for tweaking, is the rubber-mounted motor which isolates the rider from the increased vibrations that performance tuning almost inevitably creates. The faster the Twin Cam 88, or indeed the previous Evo lump, spins, the smoother the sensation to you as the rider … unless you venture to touch the cylinder head which would give you an indication of what an unbalanced solid-mount Softail would be subject to. It was the same on the FXR, and has a similar effect on Buells, all conspiring to break the link between harsh vibration and the strongly-held belief that it was early warning of impending disaster within the bowels of the motor.

Softails
Just as it is massively unfair to label all Dyna Glides as sports bikes, so too it is to label Softails as customs: check out the FatBoy and Heritage Softail Classic. That said, just as in the Dyna, the base model provides a blank canvas upon which you can paint your own picture and in the case of the Softail Standard it would be a custom bike that would typically roll out.

Again, there have been no corners cut in the building of the Softail Standard, and I will go so far as to say that in stock trim it is my favourite custom Softail by a margin, as well as being my favourite Softail too. The seat is a practical, comfortable perch: less so that the Deuce but more than the Night Train. It lacks the sheer beauty of the Deuce's forks, but also saves the cost of them; and it has most of the bits that make an excellent starting point for a mainsteam custom, notably wide-glide yokes, fatbob tank and mudguard and a tall-skinny front wheel … and a kicked-out 34-degree rake on the frame that almost reinvented custom bikes in 1984.

It's actually quite strange to think of the age of the Softail chassis: I remember its launch but it doesn't seem that long ago - very much like the Evo that it arrived with but look at that date again: 1984. That's seventeen years!

In that time, the Softail chassis hasn't changed massively. It arrived as a solid-mount frame just as the rubber-mount FXRs were replacing the stock 4-speed FXs and it is argued that there was a deliberate policy of producing a bike that appealed to the hard-core traditionalist to avoid the charge of adopting technology for technology's sake. Whether that's true or not is a matter of conjecture through the factory spin, but it did give a broad appeal to the increasing ranges and allowed the sports and custom riders a less compromised foundation for each to create their own magic. The only major change in the frame came with the adoption of the TwinCam88 engine which happened in the 2000 model year, and then the choice was between a rubber-mounted Softail or a balanced motor. The balanced motor won that argument and the 88B motor has given the Softail a new lease of life. I've heard rumours, and I'd love someone to substantiate them, that every time Harley-Davidson attempted to rubber-mount a motor in a Softail chassis, it ripped the mountings out: I don't see how that can be the case, but if someone on the inside knows, please tell.

The Softail Standard bears more than a passing resemblance to the first Softail of 1984 with its high bars on tall, pulled-back risers, and shameless use of traditional laced wheels - which further sets it apart from the other two custom Softails. It has an honesty of style that is unpretentious but which also gives an indication of the potential lying underneath - and not that far underneath either - and like the FXD offers a saving of £1000 over its closest cousin, in this case the Night Train. What Harley scrimp on to make that cost saving is the engine finish and a disk rear wheel, and I can live without both - certainly when the seat is so much more comfortable, if stylistically compromised. I would have to change the seat of the Night Train if I were to have one because I found it too harsh for medium distance work, so to change the Standard's seat for something prettier wouldn't be an issue.

The nicest thing for me about the Standard is that it doesn't have the disk wheel, because having ridden the Deuce, I would be lacing the hub of the rear wheel to a seventeen inch item to get the Deuce's more sure-footed handling - and that is the primary attraction of the Deuce for me. The Deuce forks are available from H-D's own accessories catalogue, but the rear wheel isn't as a matter of interest. The Deuce, for the record, is more than £3,000 at least over the Standard, and nearer £4k if you want the injection, and the lack of EFI is the only major shortfall of the Standard. I can understand it with the stripped-to-the-bones raw concept behind the Night Train, but the Softail Standard with EFI would work out at £10,495 and would be a seriously attractive motorcycle for the money.

Still, a custom Softail is as much custom as Softail, and the trimmings give you no doubt. Feet kicked forwards onto forward controls, high and wide bars spreading your arms up and out to better suit cruising - or to replace push-ups at the Gym for developing arm and neck muscles when ridden at high speed - and a bolt-upright spine at the beginning of a journey which soon develops into a slouch as you settle into the ride. The big clock dashboard on the fake Fat Bob tanks are a throwback to the days when this would have been a raked-out HydraGlide, and the rear mudguard might well have started as a dresser rear 'guard that had been spun through sixty degrees of so on the bikes of yore, but is now a made-for-the-job item that can follow its design back to the launch of the 4-speed Shovelhead Wide Glide.

The engine is a plain finish, just as the FXD, with the notable exception of the nose-cone which is left with a blasted finish - as is the chaincase - as a contrast to the polished versions on the Super Glide. I have to say that the Super Glide's polished items get my vote, but how much will it cost to get the Softail's parts polished? It is all personal taste at the end of the day, but I can't help thinking that the blasted finish of the FXST doesn't do the Twin Cam's nose cone any favours accentuating an already foreshortened, previously instantly recognisable part of the engine. In the grand scheme of things, small potatoes indeed.

Anything else?

No, not really. Of the entry-level bikes it is the most appropriate because the idea of a custom bike is to be, well, unique … custom … individual. And while the factory custom concept, quite apart from being an oxymoron in itself, has provided the inspiration for generations of custom bike builders, the FXST - especially in silver - looks like a bike in primer just waiting to be finished. That it should be such a good bike in the first place is equally laudable.

Where would you spend the money you'd saved?

Where d'you start?

For a grand you could tighten up the back end with the seventeen-inch rim and low-profile tyre, probably with flatter bars; or you could put a stretched tank on it to emphasise the lines of the Softail chassis and still have change for a seat and modest paint job. You could go to town with the paint and stick with the rest of the bike, capitalising on the inherent strengths of the existing bike.

For three and a half grand, you could get really excited and end up with something that would draw attention away from the worthy but over-finished Deuce with a Staged engine, sorted-out handling, twin disks, sleek bodywork and very much more a personal statement.

Alternatively you could get a tin of Halford's matt black and blather the whole lot in it and pretend its spent the last forty years languishing in a shed somewhere in the middle of the US.

Tourers
The Road King is by far the most expensive entry-level bike in this round-up because it isn't really an entry-level bike: that would be the Electra Glide Standard with its plain finish engine, traditional handlebar fairing and FLT tank with a monumental chrome dome filler cap cover where the big speedo rightfully belongs, but we don't get that in the UK, so the Road King is the base tourer. Ne'er mind, eh?

The one thing the Road King shares with the other bikes listed here is the price differential between itself and the next model up. Again it is £1000 and in this case it is saved because the fuel injection of the Classic is missing, and the ABS bags are the same as used on the Electras rather than the restyled leather panniers of its namesake. The whitewalls could be considered an omission if you've ever fancied spending a long time on your hands and knees scrubbing them clean, and the seats are different, but there is no quality difference there - if anything, the removable pillion of the stock model offers greater flexibility for lifetime saddle-tramps with partners who wouldn't wish to join them … or who weren't invited.

The base for the tourers is the Tour Glide chassis that was introduced for the first FLT in 1980. Bigger, heavier and more cumbersome than anything that had gone before it, it is an acquired taste and engenders any bike so fitted with an immense proportion that would hopefully deter novices. All FLHT-framed bikes are serious tools and shouldn't be underestimated. In the right hands they are incredibly manoeuvrable - as anyone who's seen the Shriners doing their party pieces will attest - but that comes with experience. Road Kings are thankfully less imposing than Electras, but they can still catch the unwary and are not recommended here for a first Harley-Davidson.

By the time you are ready for an FLHT, however, you will find the FLHR Road King to be a long-legged, comfortable, versatile and practical motorcycle for anything from a trip to the Supermarket or to Singapore. Solid bags offer the most secure means of carrying a surprisingly big load, and are lockable - which isn't to say invulnerable to theft, just less tempting to the casual tealeaf who's unlikely to risk being caught breaking into something that may well be empty. And opening the bag is the only way they'll find out, because they're hardly likely to shake it from side to side to see if anything rattles … well, and not get crushed under 700lbs plus of heavy metal. The bags do come off very easily these days with a key and two dzus fasteners keeping each of them on a rail, but the bike without them isn't pretty so they stay where they are. The thing that is removable and useful is the screen, because hot days behind so big a screen can be uncomfortable. Okay, so hot days aren't too commonplace in the UK, but I prefer screenless running unless I'm going a long way in torrential rain.

What can you do with a stock Road King? Well, not a right lot, really, short of playing with screens, colour schemes and luggage combinations.

Actually, you can do a lot with a Road King. You can ride it … for miles and miles and miles, and that'll be the reason why you bought it. A touring bike with some street presence ridden one-up sans pillion and screen, it is the bike that the original pre-FX big twins were, except it's bigger and more ungainly due to the increased size of the FLT frame. Check out the 1200FLH in the classics section to see what we're talking about here.

It'd be a strange thing to do, I know, but I'd be interested to see how much work would be involved in pulling all the bits off a Road King and refitting them to a look-alike 4-speed frame to get back to that simpler form - assuming frames exist for the Twin Cam 88 frame that will incorporate the rubber-mounts. What would result would be undoubtedly less of a tourer, but more of a streetbike … and it might be cheaper and quicker to dress up a Dyna.

So ...

... there you have four bikes in four different frames using three engines. Everything else in the Harley-Davidson ranges have come from these basic components and we've already seen the diversity that they offer through the rest of the roadtests. What you get with the blank canvas, entry-level models is the opportunity to put your money where your mouth is and build the bike that you've always wished the Motor Company had made for you, and to do so with the best possible starting point.

Of course, if you want to do the custom thing properly, you can go and buy yourself an engine, frame and running gear and do the lot yourself, but it will be harder, will require more technical ability, patience and a lot of confidence … or a shop close-by who you trust implicitly. It isn't for everyone, and it certainly isn't for first time customisers unless they have massive budgets, and that's a massive budget compared to the most expensive bike here: one-offs don't come cheap unless you do everything yourself.

Any one of the four bikes above will give you more than enough space to do your thing, and give you the essential starting elements of frame, engine and running gear. The trick is to work out what you want, and which of them will provide the best starting platform: you can build performance Softails, touring Sportsters, extreme Dyna chops and street Glides but you'll be making work for yourself. That isn't to suggest that there are rules because there aren't, but it's as well to stick within more modest guidelines to start with while you practice your skills - or cut up the odd Jap cruiser until you're happy without wrecking a lot of money's worth of proper motorcycle.

In reality, most of us are going to change a bit here and there to make our bike suit us better, and it is those people that we are talking to, and if I've only managed to make them realise the diversity of the ranges and help them make an informed choice of their first, or next Harley, then I'll be happy.