... LESS SUBSTANTIAL THAN THE TOURERS, less stylised than the Softails, they provide the easiest route to Harley ownership for riders new to the American big-twin experience and, as luck would have it, they both come in basic street form, as sportsters (with a small "s") and as customs. We've already put the Sportster Sport against the Dyna Sport on-line, and we've not been offered a stock XLH1200 to pitch against a stock Super Glide because they're no longer available in the UK, but we can play with the customs.

For as long as I can remember, and for all I know since their introduction half a decade before my own, Sportsters have been regarded by some as girly bikes: smaller, lighter and generally more manageable than a big twin. That was arguably true in 1957 when a big twin was a Hydra Glide with a huge crank, cast iron barrels and just about the time when the world realised that lighter bikes are quicker than heavy ones. When the FXs broke cover in 1971, the big twin became somewhat less substantial but as a scaled down Electra it escaped the girly tag quite successfully, and when the first Low Rider appeared in 1977, it was so successful a foray into the world of customs that it was just too bad-ass for the fairer sex.

A lot of other bikes have been similarly condemned since but usually due to a low seat height, think 535 Virago - okay, sorry, you can cast that image aside now, but you know what I'm saying: scaled down customs for the vertically challenged. Against that backdrop, the Sportster is a different thing entirely, standing tall in the saddle and with an entry level set at 883cc, it could be seen as the next step up but it isn't. The Sportster is a model in its own right. It's not an entry level Harley any more than a Buell is a Sporting Harley, and that's all there is to it.

Sportsters don't help themselves in that they used to be the Sporty Harleys, but they have been left wanting over the last couple of decades in that department, so where does that leave them? Touring? Don't laugh at the back: they tried it. Custom? Good call, after all people have been customising Sportsters as long as they've been riding them. "
So in the red corner - okay, the two-tone red and silver corner - we have the tall skinny XL1200C Sportster Custom. No pretence at performance, and plenty of style: loads of chrome, tall skinny front end, flat bars atop straight risers, a decent two-up seat and a slotted version of the ubiquitous solid rear wheel. Nice. If you like that sort of thing.
In the British racing green corner - well it would be if it wasn't called Jade Sunglo - we have the FXDL Dyna Low Rider. Not the Wide Glide with its long forks and skinny wheel because it's, well, bigger, but the Low Rider because it is the deceptively small big-twin.
Depending on who you talk to, the Low Rider is either the first or second factory custom out of Milwaukee, though personally I see the Super Glide as their first street bike, not custom. Be that as it may, it has been around for twenty-five years with only a few wilderness years when the Motor Company mucked about with its moniker, applying it, seemingly at random within the FXR range, but it started as a 4-speed shovelhead, and was the obvious choice for a Dyna-derived custom, with that frame sharing more than a few styling details.

In those heady days of the late seventies, the 4-speed frame came in one form and until the advent of the Evo, and a quick mod to produce an interim Evo 4-speed, that one size fitted all. There was the odd trick, like raked yokes in the first Wide Glide, but it did the job well enough so why mess? It came with a low seat height of 27-inches, drag bars in pullback risers, 3.5 gallon Fat Bob tanks and looked stunning, if you like that sort of thing.
Models came and went over the years, and the Low Rider underwent more changes than most with Sport, Custom and Convertible models signalling massive changes in equipment but, for me, the Low Rider was always the 4-speed, flat-bar on pull-back riser equipped, low-seat street custom. With the advent of the Dyna, the shape and opportunity returned, and last year it did with a vengeance: a shade over 25-inches from blacktop to backside and the lowest stock big-twin Harley ever. Using the short-limbed criteria applied to the metric cruiser that need no longer be mentioned, it was a girly bike if ever there were one - but take my word for it, there's no such thing.

The differences between these contenders are manifold: in fact you'd struggle to find common ground beyond the manufacturer's badges, but they are remarkably close in their potential owners, if only because of their size.

For all the Sportster's custom leanings in terms of the front end, Harley have not been up to their usual tricks in the yoke department and the forks gripping the custom's skinny wheel retain the stock rake of the rest of the range, albeit canted back because of the use of the bigger front wheel and shorter rear shock. The effect is of an upright fork, but the net result is a bike that corners with confidence. We've always been complimentary about the Sportster's chassis and by not messing about with the geometry, the Custom inherits the Sport's agility for as long as the smaller contact patch of the 21-inch tyre allows.

By comparison, the Low Rider's kicked out front end gives it a lazier character. It uses the custom version of the Dyna chassis and as such runs a 32-degree rake and visually it works well. The alternative would be the sharper 28-degrees of the Super Glides and that would leave it a little stumpy-looking, although a 2-degree rake built into the yokes would bring it back to its 1977 base. The wheel is a nineteen-inch item and it suits the bike's overall style, as well as putting a little more rubber on the road. It is also here that the post-2001 Low Rider differs from what has gone before, notably that the forks are shorter, bringing it into real lowrider country, in the Chicano context. Park the new generation bike next to a pre-2000 example and the earlier model looks like a chopper. In fact, if you climb off almost anything else onto a Low Rider, it feels like a toy. Positively diminutive.

The frames couldn't be more different, with the Sportster's motor mounted directly to its supporting metalwork, fitting tightly round it, while the Dyna chassis - hardly huge itself - is isolated from its motor by rubber mountings at the front and back, and a turnbuckle at the top to prevent lateral movement. Both frames are stiff, and keep the wheels where you expect them to be, but the Dyna's makes for a more comfortable long distance ride, while the Sportster shakes, rattles and rolls at varying pitches according to the revs. An issue? Yes, frankly, if only because you can only see the road behind you in the mirrors when it's time to change up to the next gear, or you'll suffer from vibrations yourself. It's more of an issue with the longer stems of the mirrors on the Custom, but less than on the Sport because you push the 1200S that bit harder in pursuit of the performance suggested by its name tag, and hit harsher vibes earlier.

The back ends are very similar, both using short stroke shocks to keep the profile low. Here the harsh ride of the Sportster as a type can detract from the overall bike: oddly the very thing that makes the Sportster what it is counts against it as a custom for my money, but there are plenty who'll beg to differ - after all, it'll be positively pillow-soft after a hardtail. The Dyna's harsher back end is an essential part of stopping it from grinding its undercarriage on the road, and it will do until you jack up the preload on the stock units, and even then it's marginal. At 14 stone (224lbs) I ran them flat out to reduce the risk of grounding on a fuel station forecourt ... again. I jest not!

It wouldn't take much imagination to jack the bike up to the same height as the Super Glide and walk away from many of the issues, but I'm obliged to say that if I were to consider the Low Rider, I'd be fitting Progressive fork springs, or similar, and better shocks on the back to better deal with the reduced ground clearance because I love the ground hugging stance of the bike.

Big twins and Sportsters share a common allegiance to a 45-degree V-twin layout, but after that all similarities are purely coincidental, and that goes for power characteristics as well as outward appearance.

The smaller engine is a narrow unit carrying engine gearbox and primary drive inside a tiny package compared to the big twin. We would have called it a unit engine twenty years ago, meaning that the engine and gearbox casings are cast as a single unit, albeit under separate outer covers, but they still occupy their own specific parts of that case as though they were separate. Joining the cases together makes for a more rigid power-train and allows for a lighter primary drive casing, and the Sportster's primary is no bigger than necessary to tuck away a duplex primary chain and compact clutch. All current Sportsters share a common 96.8mm stroke and switch between capacities by altering the bore and relative dimensions: 1200s generally rev more happily than the long-stroke 883s.
The big twin is a whole new can of processed pork. With visible ancestry back to the 1936 Knucklehead, it remains an unashamedly "pre-unit" motor, although someone in the engineering department has seen fit to bolt those two units rigidly together. To benefit from the increased strength on offer? No, to let them bounce together. Between and underneath this composite power unit sits the oil tank, accessed from a filler cap on top, and visible as a sump underneath, protected from the all-too-close kerbstones that would crack it, should you be so foolish as to take one off the pavement without recourse to an access ramp, by a steel ridge welded vertically beneath the frame.

Mechanically, I find the big twin less harsh than its XL counterpart and this is down to rubber-mounting as much as anything else, but is also due in part to the lack of a shock absorber in the drive train. The Sportster always feels as though it's on the verge of self-destruction to me, although I know that it is far from the case. I rev my XL-derived Buell motor far harder, and ride it far quicker so I know it is up to the job, but there are these noises, see? One day I'll get my hands on some balancing solutions to see if I can't tame the vibes, and my issues with the Sportster - or, you never know, the next generation Sportster might be a rubber-mounted XL with a bit of a tweak. We can hope.

The difference in the engine characteristics of these very different bikes is immediately evident as you let out the big-twin's clutch and feel it surge forwards, generating torque from deep down in the rev range. It's not as much as the Evo that preceded it - which has been the case with every successive generation of an engine that owes much of its form to the aforementioned Knuckle - but it is massively more than the Sportster musters. Short-shifting into second and riding the bike on its bottom end power gives the rider the distinct impression that work is being done by the engine as the low-pitch vibrations are amplified, albeit in rubber-damped form, by the mounting system. It sounds as though it might be unpleasant but personally I wouldn't have it any other way. It's never intrusive, or harsh, but is just there to remind you that you've got nearly a litre and a half of long-stroke V-twin spinning beneath you, whispering something to itself about potatoes - unless you've got pipes that are less restrictive than stock, in which case its telling the world about Sir Walter Raleigh's claim to culinary fame.

Of course, you're not obliged to short-shift at all, and the rev-counter on the tank-top dash will tell you if you're overstepping the mark as you hold the throttle wider for longer, and it's wise to refer to it. Once past 3,000rpm the vibrations all but disappear and the engine gathers pace quickly and without a suggestion of strain. The harder it revs, the smoother it becomes until it splutters as you bounce off the rev-limiter. Oops. Good job that's there. It needs to be, especially if you wear a full-face helmet because the chin-piece masks off the instruments, requiring you to physically move your head to glimpse their readings, but even with an open-face lid, you've got better things to worry about, watching the road, and the traffic.

Bouncing off a rev limiter can come as quite a shock to old-school Harley riders as there is so much more power higher up the rev range than they'd expect, and on such an easy-spinning motor, but that is where the increased performance has been generated as the motor has evolved over generations.

Whichever way you ride it through the gears, you've got an engine that gives a tradional sensory feedback and a broad spread of power, but which settles down to a smooth running plant when you've miles to cover.

You're welcome to try bouncing off an XL's rev limiter, but unless it's balanced, or is a well-sorted example, you'll be shifting up long before then if only to return to engine speeds that are less demanding of your body. It's more of an issue on its sportier sibling but the Custom's riding style protects you, once you've learned to live with the blurred mirrors, and it spite of that it really does make a nice cruiser. The return journey to drop the 1200C back with Harley-Davidson UK, was going to be the best part of 200 miles, and it was going to be in December. To say I wasn't looking forward to it would be an understatement: I was considering root canal work to defer it a little longer, but I ultimately bit the bullet and set off. Half on motorway to cover some ground quickly and half on fast A-roads to ease the boredom of travelling on motorways, the Sportster Custom was more than "almost pleasant", it was downright enjoyable. I stopped for a warming brew halfway down, and was delighted to realise that I could have carried on without discomfort. Most unexpected on a bike that is set up so firm, and further compromised by a feet forward riding position placing greater weight on the backside - which reminds me that I haven't mentioned the seat: superb, and up for pillion duties in a way that the rest of the range are distinctly not … well, not for Marie, who blanches at the sight of any Badlander.

It's all about the "fit". At six-two, I nestled into the 1200C better than I expected to, and - as they'd have said in magazines of old - the controls fell readily to hand. The same was true of the Low Rider to much the same extent, but I think I'd put a pair of flat bars on those pullback risers if only to satisfy my sense of the aesthetic, and I feel that a slightly more upright riding position would better suit the bike too.

Side-by-side, the differences are marked, but are generally seen by the onlooker not the rider. You sit on the Sportster, but in the Low Rider. The Sportster looks to be a tiny bike from its frontal aspect, while the Low Rider looks like it's further away than it really is: proportionally right, but smaller all round. Side-on, the Low Rider is a toy. It's tiny, and never did it look more so than now. The Sportster is more spread out … bigger … gangling is probably as good a word as any, and I'll have to come clean and say that it is too gangling for me. I like the compactness of the Low Rider, even if it is diminutive.

I started by making the dangerous "girlie bike" reference, and I'll finish on much the same: there is no such thing as a girlie bike, but there are certainly bikes that better suit the shorter of limb and both of these bikes qualify in very different ways. If you can't get both feet flat on the deck on a Low Rider, you're going to struggle with any bike - and that includes 250cc pseudo cruisers. You might not get your feet flat down on an XL1200C but as long as you've got some purchase, there is little weight to contend with and you'll be fine with its balance. Then it's down to what you want. You would previously have been left with the 535cc baby vee and the smaller cruisers, although people would have been trying to get you onto a Hugger for years, but the Low Rider opens up a while new world. You don't need to compromise your desires: you can have a big twin if that's what you want.

The only rider I would put on all of that is to make sure I don't come across as recommending them only for the shorter rider.

In the Low Rider's case, it may be close to the ground, but the accommodation of the Low Rider is exactly the same as offered on the Super Glide, it's just that bit closer to the tarmac, and the bars are slightly closer to you with the pullback drags atop pullback risers. I'd go as far as to say it could be the ideal bike for someone nervous about getting to grips with the bulk of a Harley, because while it is the same package as almost any big twin, it comes in the most manageable form they make. Just remember to jack the suspension up if you're tipping the scales on the "comfortable" side of "well-covered".

In terms of the Sportster, don't feel you have to buy a big twin to get the custom stance. If you like the very different nature of the Sportster's motor, and the massive ground clearance that it offers over the big twins, you might just have found your ideal motorcycle. I know I've found my favourite stock Sportster, and that's from someone who doesn't especially like Sportsters or customs, and that's because it an extremely rideable bike.

Second Opinion:
Words: Rich

It is extremely rare for me to end up disliking a motorcycle. After some time with just about any machine I tend to get used to it and then have an irritating habit of empathising with even its bad points. No such flood of emotion accompanied the Dyna Low Rider when I returned it.
I had been practically forced against my will (albeit through reasoned argument and actual riding experience) to become a convert to Harley's Dyna range. All the Dynas I'd ridden to that point were supremely competent motorcycles: comfortable, silky smooth, great over long distance, handled very well - sometimes brilliantly - were practical, quick and well braked. They had all been great fun so far.

Mmm, not so the Dyna Low Rider. For a start it claims to be a Lowrider and yes it is low, but I kind of expected them to look more like the custom bikes they share a name with than they do. The term Lowrider, to me at least, speaks of a ground hugging chopper, fast, practical, stockish fork rake and length, the rider out of the worst of the wind blast behind petrol tank and low, narrow 'bars, their bum an inch or two from the fat rear wheel. Usually minimal chrome and a tasty but fairly monochrome paint job. In short a usable, working custom. Sorry and maybe I'm wrong, but the Dyna Low Rider doesn't look like that to me. If truth were told I'd always assumed I'd never actually seen a Dyna Low Rider in real life - I had of course, but again assumed it was a workaday Dyna. When somebody actually wheeled one out in front of my eyes and said 'There it is!' I kind of went 'Oh! Right, okay …' all disappointedly. True, I'd seen pictures of them, complete with 'Dyna Low Rider' writ large underneath but, again, I just assumed they couldn't really look that … ordinary in the flesh. I did like the look of the Dyna Low Rider's seat and I definitely liked the handlebars, but that was about it looks-wise.

The Low Rider really is low, so low that any potential enjoyment to be had with a wonderfully taut frame and good suspension is wrecked by a terrifying lack of lean angle. I ended up blushing at roundabouts as first one side then t'other rasped the asphalt. Oh don't get me wrong, those roundabout frame sparks and exhaust grinding are all heroic and dashing derring do - at some speed - but not when you're twiddling around the things it isn't. The single front brake was excellent to begin with, very responsive and very effective. However, towards the end of my time with the machine it went off the boil quite rapidly and really would have benefited from the regular service that it had missed: I had personally covered over 2000 miles on the bike by then, plus whatever Andy had put on it beforehand. To be fair, any responsible owner would have serviced the brakes at least once within that kind of mileage or at least dealt with it at the first sign of deterioration.

The Dyna Low Rider is of course blessed with a rubber mounted Twin Cam 88 engine, which is superb. A true Dyna, it is as smooth as silk at speed and seems capable of eating as many miles as you care to throw at it. It was just a disappointment for me personally that the miles that the engine was so eager to devour were covered in real discomfort for me as the rider, and actual pain for any of my pillions. The rear pillion's seat is not particularly plush for a start and slopes towards the rear to give a fetching fastback effect. So while looking the biz, pillions have to physically hold onto the rider to stay on the seat at all, making a desperate - and distracting - grab and tug every now and again to haul themselves back up the slope and off of the mudguard. Not good, and comes with extremely painful bruising to show for it over long distances, too. As for myself, I just wonder if I was too big for the machine, to get the best out of it. As a gateway for people of smaller stature to experience the big twin with some degree of confidence - that it won't be too much to handle for instance - the Low Rider could be just the job, but I can't comment simply because I can't make myself smaller to find out: well, not painlessly.

Whereas I'd discovered that the other Dynas, Wide Glide included, were fantastically capable motorway machines, if you had no choice but to use them, the Low Rider, for me, wasn't. The engine sure was willing enough, but I couldn't sustain many periods at speeds above 70mph. I felt on top of the machine, full in the windblast, my arms spread flat and wide by those handlebars that are so terrific on other Harley models. I hunkered down as best as I was able, but couldn't get low enough. In anything but windless conditions, the wind flowing past my helmet would begin to pull my head from side to side unless I locked my neck down tight and gritted my teeth. I had to pull hard on the bars to lean my torso into the wind and then lock my lower back to relieve my aching arms - which still ache now, three weeks after giving the Low Rider back.

This high speed riding position may have been easier for me personally to sustain had the Low Rider been fitted with forward set foot controls, instead its pegs were up underneath me and my gangly pins didn't like that too much either. Again, though, to be scrupulously fair, I honestly do not think the Dyna Low Rider has been designed with a six-foot-one, 33" legged, fat, whinging fool like me in mind. If my legs were considerably shorter, for instance, then the pegs, as close to the seat as they are, could quite possibly be in exactly the right place. The same goes for wind battering my upper body got - had I not been sticking three feet straight up in the air, had my upper body been a lot more compact, then hunkering down between the bars and behind the tank would've been much easier.

But then, would those bars be too wide for a smaller person?

Again, can't say. Certainly I would have to change the handlebars for a set of drag bars straight away. They, incidentally, would look great behind a nose fairing … and you'd have to fit a belly pan then. Oh yeah, pull the front forks back up through the yokes, yep and perhaps rear set foot controls and a single seat, dual front brakes and a higher level, up-swept 2 into 1 exhaust …
… I'll best shut up now.

Whereas I was expecting to quite like the Dyna Low Rider and ended up not liking it very much at all, I really didn't expect I'd have anything nice to say about the Sportster 1200 Custom and found almost immediately that actually I rather liked it. Fuckle fick!

I had carried a rucksack full of prejudice against the Sportster 1200 Custom and like any prejudice; it was unjustified, illogical and had no basis in actual experience. I had expected to deride the motorcycle from day one and even went as far as being absolutely sure of what I expected a Sportster 1200 Custom to look like before I'd travelled down to Wayside Harley-Davidson to take temporary possession of one.

I was taken completely by surprise. A throaty roar accompanied the arrival of a quite tasty looking machine. Yes it was chromed to the nines and sported a deep shiny red and metallic grey paint job, which wouldn't normally have been my cup of tea, but the Sportster 1200C hung together so well I was quite taken aback. A tall and slender, spoked 21-inch front wheel was gripped by the familiar polished Sportster forks. They, in turn, were held by polished and lacquered yokes, the lower of which supported a deep-chromed, large bullet shaped headlight. Above the top yoke, an attractive shrouded pair of risers gripped a set of drag bars and the centrally mounted speedo was reverse mounted here too. The now well-established larger Sportster tank swept down and away from here to meet the seat and was adorned by real, actual metal, tank badges on either side.

The twin seat itself was much neater, lower and minimal than I could have hoped for, but it was while following the pair of fully chromed rear shocks down that I finally spotted the bike's crowning glory: the Sportster 1200 Custom is blessed with a gob-smackingly sexy solid disc rear wheel, artfully slotted close to the rim and a truly 'must have' item for just about every biker I met afterwards.

And why was I so surprised? Because shamefully I had expected bunny-ear pullbacks and a hideous stepped seat on an otherwise stock bike. Fifteen years out of date, fool - join the current millennium!

Although the 1200C had only 10 miles on its odometer and therefore I was not about to explore anywhere near the rev limiter, the performance from the beefy vee-twin was another source of enjoyment. Naturally I stuck to the A roads back to Manchester and the Sportster was totally happy rolling up through the gears smartly to nudge an easy 70mph on all those really enjoyable bits of the A5. The bike was quite capable, even felt eager to go much faster, but I wasn't about to let it until it had clocked up some proper mileage.

While I had to watch the speedo, fun was still to be had with the machine. The frame was much tauter than I had been expecting - this was no woolly wuss, this was a real Harley Sportster - " and it flicked around the countryside and through roundabouts with aplomb. I soon too discovered that while it only boasts a single disc up front, this disc, along with the one at the rear, was quite adequate, thank you very much, and allowed much later braking into bends, making the most of the momentum. That this first day with the 1200C was dry calmed my nerves regarding the minimal road contact afforded by the skinny front tyre - which was of course (dan-dan-daaah) an OE Dunlop - and you know how scary even a fat one of those is in the wet!

And if you don't, please take my word for it.

At these fairly spirited but non-motorway speeds, the fuel consumption was pretty frugal and a good 110 miles were covered before the paranoia of pushing an empty bike set in. In retrospect I should have ridden the machine 'til I needed to turn the neat new petrol tap onto reserve - but I didn't, because I'm a pathetic joke of a man. However, that those hundred-plus miles were covered non-stop was another surprise.

I was comfortable.

Though the rider's footrests are forward set, they are not too far away, or too high at least for my 33-inch inside leg. Many times before, with forwards, I've found myself locked into position, legs virtually straight out, unable to shift position and ease pressure points by pushing against the footrests and stuck, sunk into a soft seat, the bum goes numb very quickly. The Sportster 1200 Custom however allowed leg movement, the smooth, firm, well designed seat allowed bum movement, and the sensible but stylish handlebars were comfortable too, so backache wasn't a real issue either. The Sportster's well set up suspension was firm, but it didn't jar the rider and the result was a smooth ride, and while there was noticeable vibration - in that you could make out nothing at speeds over 40mph in the long stem mirrors - that vibration did not begin to transfer to my hands until we'd reached about seventy. As the test progressed and the miles accrued, the noticeable vibration moved up the rev range to around 80mph and I suspect that a fully run-in Sportster 1200 would see that vibration migrate still higher.

I suppose the final pleasant surprise the Sportster 1200C had in store for me was just how much fun I would have with it while I had it. I thoroughly enjoyed tooling around on the bike, which, when it comes down to it, is the chief reason we ride bikes.

If I had to nit-pick - which I do, because it's my job - I wasn't too impressed with the standard of some of the chrome which showed signs of rust after only a few hundred miles of British weather - and regular washes I might add - and well, that headlight. It works fine, definitely the most illuminating headlight I've had dealings with on a stock Sportster and it does look well - it's just that it fell off. Proper fell off. Twice. The headlight is secured to the lower yoke on a chromed post that is drilled and tapped underneath, and a single bolt passes up under and through the yoke into it. That bolt sheared twice with only the cabling that passes into the headlight stopping it from smashing on the floor. Finally, I have to take issue with the side-stand, which causes the machine to stand too upright because it's either too long or set at the wrong angle. The result is when the Sportster 1200C is parked up it's fairly unstable. A push of a finger on the handlebar can start the machine falling over to the right and given a strong wind and an idling 883 next to it, it can and did fall over but luckily it was caught (by my f'king Road King).

So, that said, overall the Sportster 1200C was much, much better than I'd expected. Certainly, head to head with the Dyna Low Rider, I'd have to point at the Sportster and say it won hands down for me, fun, practical, nimble and cheaper.

Specifications        

Make and Model:	Harley-Davidson XL1200C Custom	Harley-Davidson FXDL Low Rider
Engine:	OHV V2 Evolution. Air-cooled 45° V-twin.	Twin Cam 88 Air-cooled 45° V-twin.
Displacement:	1199cc (74ci)	1449cc (88ci)
Compression Ratio:	9.0:1	8.8:1
Bore & Stroke:	88.8 x 96.8	95.3 x 101.6mm
Torque:	87.0NM @ 4400rpm	106.0 @ 2900rpm
Fuel System:	Single Keihin Carburettor.	Single Keihin Carburettor.
Exhaust System:	Staggered shorty duals	Staggered shorty duals
Oil Capacity:	2.8 litres	2.8 litres
Fuel Capacity:	12.5 litres (includes reserve)	18.5 litres (includes reserve)
Primary Drive:	Triple-row (triplex) chain	Double-row (duplex) chain
Final Drive:	Kevlar belt	Kevlar belt
Length:	2245mm	2330mm
Seat Height:	700mm	689mm
Ground clearance:	159mm	85mm
Wheelbase:	1510mm	32 degrees / 129.4mm
Rake/Trail:	30 / 119mm	1620mm
Brakes: Front Rear	292mm with 4-pot calliper 292mm with 4-pot calliper	292mm with 4-piston calliper 292mm with 4-piston calliper
Wheels: Front Rear	21 x 2.15 Laced Wheel. 16 x 3.00 Slotted Disc Wheel	19 x 2.50 Laced Wheel. 16 x 3.00 Laced Wheel
Tyres: Front Rear	MH90-21 54H 130/90 B16 73H	MH 100/90-19 57H MT 150/80 B16 71H
Dry Weight:	245kg	300kg
Lean angles:	35°left / 33°right	29° left / 28.5° right
Instruments:	Electronic Speedo with odometer and re-settable trip meter. Oil pressure light.	Electronic speedo with odometer and resettable trip meter. Fuel gauge, oil pressure light, engine diagnostic light.
Colours:	2003 Anniversary Schemes: luxury red pearl, white pearl or luxury blue pearl pearl; vivid black; gunmetal pearl; 2-tone sterling silver and vivid black	2003 Anniversary Schemes: luxury red pearl, white pearl or luxury blue pearl pearl; vivid black; gunmetal pearl; 2-tone sterling silver and vivid black
Price:	£7,445 r/w/b, vivid black £7,545 Gunmetal £7,795 2-tone 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	£11,195 r/w/b £11,245 vivid black £11,395 Gunmetal £11,795 Two-tone 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
Thanks to:	Harley-Davidson UK. Oxford Business Park, 6000 Garsington Road, Oxford England OX4 2DQ Tel: 0870 850 1903 (UK)	Harley-Davidson UK. Oxford Business Park, 6000 Garsington Road, Oxford England OX4 2DQ Tel: 0870 850 1903 (UK)