I somehow managed not to throw my leg across the new generation Softails last year and was keen to make amends as soon as opportunity allowed, and the Heritage Classic was the ideal choice. This was not least because we needed to get a roadtest of a bagger of sorts, but also because the halfway-house between the street bikes and the full-on Tourers is a closer relative to the Electras of old, and I have a soft spot for their simplicity. There is another natural contender for this crown within Harley's range, and that is (they are?) the Road Kings and you can expect a head-to-head with that – and hopefully the Victory Cruiser Deluxe later in the year

Having ridden a few Evo Softails, I didn't think I would ever take the concept of a Softail tourer seriously, but with the worst of the primary vibrations stifled by the balanced motor, there is a very real chance that this is a bike that you could do some distance on. Yeah, I know, you can ride for miles on any of them – the engines see to that – but I'm from the old-fashioned school of thought that demands that you can do so comfortably.

Contradicting myself almost immediately, the Heritage Classic is anything but simplistic, decked out as it is with studs aplenty, but beneath the trinkets is a good basic bike.

Designated the FLSTC, you'd expect to see heavyweight, Hydra-style forks fronting the Softail frame and you wouldn't be disappointed. Complete with the tin tops that really should still say "Hydra Glide" in the stylised script beloved of several generations of the Motor Company's design department, these fully shrouded forks are truly massive, and look all the more substantial for the addition of trademark spotlamps with their underslung, and equally massive indicators. Anything less than a sixteen inch wheel would look wrong in such company, and the fully valanced mudguard finishes the job off: pure history. I can see my old Shovelhead Electra Glide staring back at me (albeit without the alloy headlamp nacelle), and beyond that back to the Panheads that first wore the hydraulic front end. Aside from the forks, the back mudguard is the FL dresser item and the skirted seat is a more substantial, broader item than you'd find on the street models, and is complemented by a mid-height backrest for the pillion. Touring aspirations are signaled by a one-piece Police-style screen, and a pair of leather-finish panniers.

If that was it, we'd have a nice practical tourer, but it runs deeper than that. The Heritage Classic is something of a transformer with a removable screen and pillion seat; but that's as far as it goes. The bags are bolted down, and the sissy bar needs further spannerwork – which questions the wisdom of the pillion seat flexibility – which is a shame because the added thought would take you from motorway to promenade roles in a matter of minutes.

So, some flexibility, and still considerably closer to the principles of a 4-speed FLH than its new namesake. Shame about the studs, but that's a personal thing.

To straddle the saddle is to get the first shock. A touring bike with the 3.5-gallon fat-bobs? Why not fit the 5-gallon ones and have done with it? Ah, but y'see, they have … after a fashion. When redesigning the frame to accommodate the dimensions of the 88, not only did they stiffen the chassis and rework a few bits that were due a looking at; they also took the opportunity to fit a one-piece 5-gallon tank rather than the proper fat-bobs previously used. This does three things. Firstly it makes the tanks taller so that the bridge between the tanks is substantial enough where it crosses the frame. Second, the added capacity afforded by the height allows the tanks to be narrower as fuel can now be held in that bridge. Finally, the symmetry of the filler caps can be retained by sticking a fuel gauge in the now-redundant left-hand filler – together with a sticker to tell the hard of understanding not to attempt to unscrew that filler cap. I think it has made the tank look shorter front to back as well, but that's probably an optical illusion caused by the increased height … hang-on, I'll find a tape measure and a '98 Softail.

Another neat trick that they've incorporated in the fuel gauge on the injection models is a low fuel light. This is something that I'm sure someone forgot to point out when I picked up the bike and I labored under the misunderstanding that it was a poorly-positioned illumination light for almost too long, judging by the amount of fuel it took to fill the tank. The injection models need this because there is no reserve position of the fuel tap of an injection-equipped bike. Why? Because they don't have a fuel tap at all as the system likes to be permanently primed. This, and an engine diagnostic light are the simplest quick identifiers for an injection model that has had its air-filter replaced … unless you count the missing fuel tap.

The next thing that strikes those who have yet to be initiated into the ways of injection is the positioning of the choke: in the parts bin in York, Pennsylvania, waiting to be fitted to a carb model. No choke, or even a fast idle: the injection system's black box does the lot. This is both good and bad. Good in that the engine sounds happier from cold, and pulls more cleanly, earlier. Bad in that a big twin is a large lump of metal and the fact that the carb motors cough and splutter until a reasonable temperature is achieved, prevents the impatient rider from pulling away from rest, Hollywood-style, on a cold engine.

Nothing else to account for, and with a gently warmed engine (two minutes at gas mark 3), first gear can be selected with a positive action, and oft-times a definite clunk, and you're off.

You haven't gone far before you realize that you're riding an American bike because the buggers will insist that you should look through your screen rather than over it. It's not as though they aren't aware of it, because they provide shorty screens, but old habits die hard. Ne'er mind, it's adjustable isn't it? Err … wasn't it? Yes, it was when it wasn't removable, but now it's removable and is not adjustable. Unfortunately, at six-foot-two my eye-line is absolutely perfectly aligned with the top edge of the screen – which is the least optically accurate – so I have the choice of sitting bolt-upright and peering over the top, or slouching and looking though. Actually, there was a third, but I couldn't be absolutely certain that the screen would still be behind the bus shelter when I had to take the bike back a fortnight later, so I discounted that one. I can slouch with the best of 'em so there was no contest, and as a recently valuated example, any rain that fell ran off the water-repellent coating left by the cleaning agent. If it were mine, the screen would have to be replaced or just removed.

The screen is also guilty for almost destroying my ability to be rational about this bike. For three hundred and some miles I laboured under the impression that the Twin Cam 88 is a mechanically noisy unit that sounds as though there is no oil at the top end. The total lack of wind noise while cowering behind that sheet of Lexan was the culprit, rather than the more common reflection of mechanical noises within a fairing on any machine, but it was enough to make eighty feel as though it was working quite hard enough, thank-you-very-much. Disappointed? Absolutely gutted. It has to be said that the solid-mount engine and very firmly mounted fuel tank would have done nothing to diminish the sounds emanating from the motor. I'll go further, and say that it was the amplification of the engine noise through a by-then almost dry fuel tank that made me realize that the fuel gauge illumination lamp might just be a low fuel warning light – I have experience of a similar phenomenon on a Kawasaki Eliminator.

Is this a criticism?

No, more an observation and a gentle nod to those who take the Heritage Softail Classic out for a spin at dealer open days.

Before handing the bike to Rich, I conducted a small, but illuminating experiment. I took the screen off and tried again. Enormous difference. I went from wondering why anyone bought Softails to quite fancying one within five miles. Divorced from the noises of the engine, spurred on by the modest amount of noise from the silencers that could be heard above that of the wind, I wound it open and cracked my face in proportion to the new-found fun … probably for the first time in a week. I also got piss-wet through for the first time in a week of inclement weather, and this is where the Heritage classic wins out. It may be a pain in the neck to look under or over it, and it may offend your ears but that screen does a remarkably good job of keeping the worst of the weather off you. And you can always take it off when you're riding for pleasure rather than to cover the miles. Even then, it does need to be shorter … between four and six inches shorter at my reckoning.

Another big bonus of the Classic is the bags. I like bags almost as much as I hate throw-overs. I like them for their security because a bike with bags has always got bags whether you're carrying anything or not, which reduces the temptation of the opportunist thief to check their contents – risking being caught for no potential reward. The solid slant-bags of the original Road King, inherited from the full dressers lends an additional level of security in that they can be locked – and have far better access than the leather of these and the Road King Classic's, but these are just fine for most purposes. I put my waterproofs in them when I picked the bike up, and removed them when we parted and never gave them another moment's thought. I hate throw-overs because they're invariably too small, too nickable, too cumbersome to carry and too bulky to store off the bike … and because my years with an Electra spoiled me.

But you can get all this on a Road King, so why build a Softail version of what is ostensibly the same bike? Well, because while the Road King is undeniably a good competent bike, it is aesthetically challenged to those for whom a Harley is a Panhead and nothing else will do. For my money, the entire touring range has cosmetic problems with the goose-necked frame and reversed yoke set-up but that, again, is a personal thing. I would go for a third option, if it were available, of a Dyna bagger in the style of a seventies 'Glide – as you'll soon be tired of hearing – but in the absence of that, the Softail would be a close second. Well it would, except that at the beginning I mentioned that the choice between rubber-mounting and balance shafts had been settled in favor of balance shafts, and that would cause me to think very seriously indeed.

I don't know why Harley settled on balance shafts because it required a fundamental change in the engine itself: an engine that had already been heralded as an improvement. One opinion is that the Softails, as the chops of the ranges, needed to retain the direct link between engine and frame for sensory feedback but that doesn't cut it for me. The vibration that remains in the engine is not enough to give the old-fashioned satisfying sensations of the older motors, as it is higher up the rev range and a little more intrusive than it need be. Worse than that, it changes the engine characteristics, shifting the maximum torque further from tickover by some 300 revs from 2900 to 3200rpm. Not a big jump, perhaps, but a yawning chasm when compared to the 2350rpm of the Evo's peak. Okay, so the 88/88B's 106NM is an improvement on the 97NM of the Evo but the nature of the beast has been altered. We don't get power figures quoted, but I'd be surprised if we didn't lose a little power at the top too: such are the penalties of balance shafts. You've also got to wonder whether the balance shafts would need to be modified in the event of over boring the motor to release the hundred brake potential of the engine as the primary balance of the engine will be inevitably upset. Yes, rubber-mounting the engine will have an impact on the chassis, but with the work done on the chassis to accommodate the new engine, how much more would have been needed? The turnbuckle days of the FXR chassis, with the requirement for large amounts of space around the motor, are over and no one could accuse the Dyna of having a bulky, obtrusive frame. From the viewpoint of comfort, this would be less of an issue with almost everything else in the range, but with the long-haul potential of the Heritage Classic it is unfortunate. It might be enough to dissuade a few potential purchasers, but then the Road King is there to catch them so perhaps I'm overstating the case.

There is little doubt that the vibration criticisms have been largely laid to rest with the balanced 88, and that the Softails have now got an engine to match the frame that has met with such acclaim … I just can't help thinking that a rubber Softail would have been that little bit better.

Second Opinion:
Words: Rich

Alright look, before we go one step further, I have to make a confession. Of all the models Harley-Davidson have ever put together – like, ever – the FLSTC/FLSTCI Heritage Softail Classic was THE bike I didn't want to be seen dead on (well, that is, apart from the thankfully discontinued – in Britain at least – FLSTS Heritage Springer). I've quite happily binged about on other 'embarrassments' like the SS250 Aermacchi my mate let me have a go of and the X90 Monkey-bike BSH had for blatting about the Kent Custom … they were so cheap and naff that you could argue they were cool. But the Heritage Handbag … mmm, how do you possibly explain that one away.

Why did I loathe it so? For starters, the Heritage offered more studs, conchos and leather laces than a popular S&M night on Canal Street. Moreover, it came in a selection of despicable color options (like white – the only white bikes that have ever looked okay were those Yamaha RD250s – oh, and perhaps, for the sake of argument the early Honda VFR750s) and had superfluous lights… and I hate superfluous lights. But most of all the Heritage screamed 'Pretendy Bike' at me: good for nothing but posing outside your up market supermarket, like Sainsburys. The Heritage Softail; a bike for impressing people who know sod-all about motorbikes, but like shiny things (you know, people who like Malls and QVC and Viragos and uh, stuff). And bought by just them type of people too!

The Heritage just seemed so artificial, so contrived, so cynically … (er, um … ah … c'mon, think of a really hideously damning word King – yeah, gottit) 'marketed'.

N'yahh. Boo. Sucks!

…Rasp!

The rot set in after the e-mail I'd sent Andy y'see, sort of going on about fringes and conchos and sort of y'know, taking the Mick a bit. Thing was that Andy had to pop round my place on the 2001 Heritage and I got to take a proper look.

I had a bit of a shock if I'm honest. For starters, I'd assumed, among a great pile of other assumptions, that I knew what one looked like.

But. Somebody, at Harley-D Design in Juneau Avenue most likely, had sneaked off when nobody was looking, and repeatedly hit this one, the 2001 Heritage, with a good taste stick. So viciously in fact, that much of the former frippary had fallen off. Gone were the conchos, the leather laces and an awful lot of the studs. The fringes and whitewalls only came as standard on the Heritage Springer (spit!) anyway, and this particular 2001 Heritage was even painted in an attractive dual color scheme of cream and 'teal' – a sort of greenie hued bluey sort of color. I'm not saying the 2001 styling was even close to 'restrained' but it was certainly less gaudy, still harking back to the romantic dress rodeo custom styling popular in the forties and fifties, but echoing rather than emulating. What was also astounding, was that I also found the general stance of this 2001 Heritage more pleasing to my eye. Why? I couldn't begin to guess at the time, it just looked ... better (fatter, more planted and purposeful, down to last year's new tank and Twin Cam friendly frame most likely), even desirable goddammit. Ashamed and disgusted I had to lock myself away and beat myself with birch twigs for thinking such filth.

No I didn't.

But I was worried, very worried... I'd actually started looking forward to 'my go'.

I rode it first as a pillion, Andy collected me and drove out 20 miles for the changeover. A lot of motorway, and only a bit of a buzz in the pillion pegs to tell of the plus 80mph speeds. The rear pillion back pad was a godsend and, despite the fact neither of us are under 6 foot or particularly spindly, there was room for us both – I wouldn't suggest ample, but definitely more than merely adequate. We refitted the screen, which really is a job counted in seconds rather than minutes (locate the four rubber protected mounts on the forks, line up with the cutouts on the screen, push and check the two clips have slipped home. Done) and the bike was mine. At least, for the next week it was.

Engine already hot, I turned for home before the heavens opened fully. The throttle seemed a little sticky, but the engine was beautifully responsive. Whereas the Twin Cam has slipped, nearly unnoticed, into some of the models in the range, it transforms the Heritage. The stock European spec Evo 1340 could be notoriously ponderous, but the stock Twin Cam retains some welcome sting in the Heritage. The 88 allowing easy overtaking, comfortable motorway cruising and occasionally surprising the odd performance car driver from the lights, who really wasn't expecting something that looked 'like that' to go 'like that'.

Going quickly, at least for me, is aided by the screen, which although amplifying dry engine noise quite alarmingly (and therefore naturally having some aurally induced restraint effect on the throttle hand as Andy points out) also fulfils it's actual purpose extremely well, deflecting the blast of air, grit and rain so effectively, allied to the inherent stability of the machine, I often found I was traveling much more quickly than I would have guessed. So a word of advice; you really, really do need to keep an eye on the speedo around town … don't I Officer!

So I reckon whereas Andy would ride the Heritage most of the time sans screen, I opt to leave the screen on, only removing it on special occasions.

Thoroughly enjoying a late night ride, while collecting my girlfriend from work, I deliberately kicked down into fourth as we wound off the main drag up onto the motorway so as to impressively demonstrate one major difference between the 88 and the earlier Harley power plant. The Heritage leapt forward fairly eagerly and, gear box meshing perfectly, it snicked into top on-cam, pulling like a train. This Heritage was more grin than grimace inducing … at least in the grunt department

The new(er) chassis feels taut and solid, allowing more spirited riding than the footboards allow. And admittedly, while not really a problem around town – where the grinding and scraping is all part of the spectacle – the lack of lean angle became more worrying (at least for me) at higher speeds out in the country, where I soon learnt to ride into fast bends slower than I normally would have felt quite comfortable, which was a pity … well okay, a bit more than a pity. If the footboards were just an inch higher and perhaps a bit further forward, would that allow more fun to be had? Or would it just make the ride more uncomfortable? The boards do lift, so no-one is going to get into big trouble very easily, but it still takes a lot of getting used to. I was impressed by the comfort of this Softail though, easily up alongside the Deuce, and very reminiscent of its Touring cousins – which was a big surprise frankly – and with the panniers, albeit studded, it did force to me respect the bike as potentially very competent and rewarding touring tackle.

The brakes, single front and rear discs, were better than I'd anticipated too, and while not admittedly stand-on-its-nose stuff, I did feel confident at all times that they were up to the job. I tend to ride Big Twins much more on the rear brake than I would with most other bikes, under 20mph and through traffic especially. Gradually transferring the stopping power from front to rear, until at walking speed, I'm almost exclusively using the rear, hand hovering on the front as the emergency back-up, unexpected idiot avoider. The reason is simple; I find that the low slung Big Twins, like the Tourers and the Softails, much more stable and much easier to navigate at slow speeds when ridden on the rear and the rear brake on the Heritage was very good – plenty of feel, with the pedal sited seemingly lower, closer to the footboard, for easier use.

So at the end of the day, or at the end of the test to be more accurate, I left the Heritage Softail actually quite liking it and understanding why other people like it. At least, when I was riding it I liked it. I'd be brought back down to earth when I'd left the bike for five minutes and walk back to it, copping a glance at the chrome and studs. So no, I wouldn't ever consider going out to buy one to keep it as it is, but neither would I throw it out of bed. In the end my prejudice was entirely based on the way it looks – and looks, as we all should know, can be very deceiving. Underneath the handbag is a very nice motorcycle. Sorry 2001 Heritage Softail, respect due, words ate.

Specifications        

Engine:	Twin Cam 88B (balanced). Air-cooled 45° V-twin.
Displacement:	1449cc (88 ci)
Compression Ratio:	8.81
Bore & Stroke:	95.3 x 101.6
Torque:	106.0Nm @ 3500rpm (105@ @ 3000 on injection)
Fuel System:	FLSTCI Sequential Port Electronic Fuel Injected (SPEFI) model tested. FLSTC Heritage Softail Classic also available with Keihin 40mm Carburetor
Exhaust System:	Staggered shorty duals
Oil Capacity:	3.3 litres
Fuel Capacity:	18.9 litres (includes reserve on carb version)
Primary Drive:	Double-row (duplex) chain
Final Drive:	Kevlar belt
Overall Length:	2391mm
Seat Height:	673mm
Ground clearance:	129.9mm
Rake/Trail:	32-degrees / 147.2mm
Wheelbase:	1637mm
Dry Weight:	335kg
Lean Angles:	28.7° left / 28.9° right
Instruments:	Electronic speedo with odometer and resetable trip meter. Fuel gauge, oil pressure light, engine diagnostic light.
Color Options:	Vivid black, jade sunglo pearl, real teal pearl, white pearl, luxury rich red pearl, suede green pearl, bronze pearl. Two Tone schemes: Luxury blue and diamond ice, real teal and birch white, luxury rich red and black, suede green and black, concord purple and diamond ice