Motorcycle.com

Woooo Hoooo!!!

If that isn't how you feel astride the V-Rod, then no pill is gonna cure your ills (to paraphrase the late 20th century poet laureate Robert Palmer). Oh V-Rod, how do I love thee, let me count the ways (Elizabeth Barrett Browning, now we're moving up in the world). Dahdun . . . DUN . . .dahdun . . . DUN . . . feel like ma-kin' love to you, my darling V-Rod (Bad Company, OK I'm getting out of control here.)

Seriously though, what an ambitious and daring project by H-D, and what a grand success. They could have played it safe, and stuck with the "big bikes for bad boys" formula that has powered their post-AMF resurgence. But instead they swung for the fences and put it out of the park!

I should qualify my enthusiasm by saying that many of the V-Rod's attributes are of a love-it-or-hate-it nature and there are those who despise it with as much passion as I adore it. And just because they're wrong, that doesn't mean they aren't entitled to an opinion. H-D has fused past, present, and future in a manner that can either appall or delight.

For instance, the riding position created by the forward positioned foot pegs and pulled back handlebars is my Platonic ideal of ergonomics. This is how I want to feel on a cruiser. Nothing too severe, but leaned back, stretched out, and feelin' like Peter Fonda in Easy Rider. I can even kick up my heels and get a cramp-relieving, full leg extension without the need for unsightly highway pegs. The bullet boys here at MO, accustomed as they are to the face-down fetal position, utterly loathe this attribute.

Perhaps they are merely disconcerted by their body's newfound ability to circulate blood to all of their extremities. I can only speculate.

If the V-Rod's stylized pipes, raked-back forks, and in our case, factory custom paint, have you thinking, "all show and no go", you would be mistaken. The long (93"), and low (26" seat height/ 5.6" ground clearance) looks conceal a lean (596 lbs dry weight) and mean (106bhp) machine. While admittedly not a canyon carver, the form to function ratio of the bike's design is far superior to a custom chopper when it comes to handling. Overly agressive lean angles will, however, be sharply reprimanded by the sound of your $20,600 (with $2,600 paint kit) investment being devalued as it polishes the pavement. Speaking of pavement, when pointed in a straght line, H-D's new creation gobbles it up as fast as almost anything without a fairing.

My singular complaint being that it does it so quietly. No potatoes here, the V-Rod's Porsche pedigree shows through in the Germanically efficient sound of its performance Revolution engine, well . . . performing efficiently. This may come as a great relief to some, but my second favorite pastime is setting off Bavarian car alarms through the garage doors of Beverly Hills' hoi poloi at 2AM on my way back home from the bars while howling "Born to be Wild" at the top of my lungs, so I kind of wish I could have my potatoes back.

My most favorite pastime, by the way, involves a jacuzzi filled with Sparks caffeinated malt beverage, a very long straw, and those blond twins from the Coors beer commercial, but I only get to indulge that one in my dreams.

"Value of owning a vehicle that cruises for chicks and scores digits for you while you sleep: PRICELE$$!"

Speaking of ladies, the V-Rod is George Clooney, Brad Pitt, and Antonio Banderas rolled into one when it comes to getting props from the fairer sex. I support this assertion with the following actual 'honest to the man with the plan' statistic. Number of love notes seductively tucked between the seat and gas tank, including name and phone number, by real-life women breathlessly requesting that whoever I am, I simply have to take them for a ride on my bike, left on the V-Rod: 3. Number left on every other test-bike I have ever taken home: zero.

Value of owning a vehicle that cruises for chicks and scores digits for you while you sleep: PRICELE$$! YEAH BABY! GRRRRRR! The miniscule pillion even serves as a screening device to ensure that only the tight of bottom dare request permission to come aboard.

Unfortunately, it also serves as a deterrent for them to stay aboard long, as the minimalist padding and rearward sloping seat angle will have your date alternately yearning to get off, and clinging to stay on. But I'm beginning to split hairs here.

The Bottom Line:

Both of these bikes have earned the right to hold their heads high. If price was no object, the V-Rod would be my steed of choice. However, considering the approximately $7,800 gap in price as configured for this comparo, with a few more ergonomic mods, the Warrior starts looking like a very attractive alternative for those with a more civilian budget and/or jealous wives or girlfriends.

And the Better Half Says...

By Ashley Hamilton

I tell you true: The V-Rod's pillion perch is not a mount at all, rather, I'm sure it's some sadistic torture device. And it's good at its task: the narrow, pointed-in-all-directions seat rides up worse than a vengefull pair of thong undies. But the physical torture pales next to the phsycological deathdance the sloping-down-and-back "seat" imparts on you -- the driver (if he's got any girth or size to him at all) sits relatively leaned back, pushing the passenger to be leaning back too, clinging for dear life. On a painful, narrowing, sloping-downward seat. Any fit of acceleration could easily divest your passenger of her place. I rode on the back of our V-Rod from Torrance to Long Beach -- all of 15 miles -- and made EBass promise to go get another testbike and come back and pick me up.

"Good thing you wore comfortable shoes," he tells me. The bastard. Chivalry is gone, I know that for fact now. Likewise, the V-Rod is invisible to my eyes. I won't acknowledge it until the MORons get a real seat for the beast. And a silver bike. Purple flames? Huh? Purple rain? Where's the fairing formerly know as WindJammer? Whatever! Regardless, if you care at all about your passenger, plan on spending some coin to get a new seat. Or, if you've got some nagging hag of a wife, by all means, leave the stocker on -- we'll all know what you're up to, it'll be our little MORonic joke, and we all promise not to sniggle.

The MO boys giggle and say nasty things about the high, rearward pegs of the Warrior -- I fail to see how a female dog in heat relates to a motorcycle's passenger pegs. Feel free to not enlighten me. What I do know is that the Warrior's secondary accommodations are super comfy. The pad looks narrow, but it only looks that way because the driver seat is so wide. Thickly padded yet firm, it helps to be fairly flexible to bend your legs up and out to wrap around the driver, but it's a comfortable, bolt-upright position that never seems to jar the kidneys. It is best, however, for a guy and a girl, or two girly guys, but not for a pair of manly men; once, Sean and EBass had to ride it tandem to pick up another bike, and it was a hilarous, squirming bout of "dude, don't touch me" guydom. I laughed for days, and almost forgave EBass for (almost) making me walk home from Long Beach.