#and those are big stirrups because i picked that saddle for the aesthetic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

freewheelen · 6 years

Text

Softail Vs. Dyna Vs. 2018 Softail

This past weekend, I booked a Dyna rental for my girlfriend and myself. Our plan was to test the bike out on our way up to a Born Free pre-party in Mt. Baldy. With a combination of highway, city streets, suburban roads, and twisties between us and our destination, it seemed like a great opportunity to gauge my comfort with transitioning into the Big Twins. But you know what they say, "man plans, God laughs"...

Upon arrival, Eagle Rider informed us that they didn't have the FXDL that I reserved online several days in advance. After airing my grievances, they graciously issued a reimbursement and we were on our way.

But what were Michelle and I to do? We planned our whole day around riding the Dyna. We spent our entire week in anticipation of straddling one of those beasts. We just couldn't accept such an anticlimactic conclusion to our day. So we decided to do the worst thing we could have done...we visited the dealership.

For the past six months, Michelle has endured my endless ramblings about my next bike.

"I want a 2018 Softail." "New bikes are too expensive. I want a Dyna." "What would you think if I kept the Sporty and got an old Softail for our road trips." "It's decided. I'm gonna keep the Sporty. Get a touring seat and bump her up to 1275." "Don't get mad at me, but what would you think if I told you I want the new Softail again?"

I'm sure it's been maddening. I'm sure she rolled her eyes more than a teen with a "cool mom" while I changed my mind more times than a ratchet changes sockets.

But all that talk in the past 6 months was just that, talk. I hadn't dropped into the saddle of a Softail. I hadn't revved up a Dyna. I hadn't nearly shit my pants from the sheer power delivered through a minuscule twist of my wrist. It was the time to stop talking and start riding. It was time to put my money where my mouth was, literally.

Our first stop was a shady, little used car dealership here in LA. They had a gorgeous 2007 Softail Custom but were unwilling to let me test ride her, so I took that as an indication of there untrustworthiness.

From there, we jumped on the 405 and headed over to Top Rocker Harley Davidson in Canoga Park. I purchased my Iron 883 from this dealership and the bike has been nothing short of a dream, so I figured I'd exercise some good judgment and loyalty (two declining qualities these days 😉).

Whoever said, "ignorance is bliss" was the wisest (wo)man in the world. After about six months of riding, I knew I wanted a bigger bike, I just never knew that I wanted it as bad as I did after test rides.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. First, like all bike shoppers, let's do a walk around.

Design

The initial detail that stands out to me on the 2018 Softail Low Rider is the tank console. In the past, the Dyna models took a subtle, low-profile approach to the dual gauge set up. Sleek and streamlined, it blended into the tank. It felt like a part of the tank, not a part on the tank.

On the other hand, at a profile angle, the Softail Low Rider's console is tall and attention-grabbing, reminiscent of the FXR tank gauges that stacked near the triple tree and dropped off about half way down the tank. In my opinion, the nuance of the Dyna design tops the new layout, but that's until I saw the FXLR from a rider's position.

Look at the refined details, the precise cutouts and taper of the tail section, the simplicity and subsequent beauty of the analog gauges.

In the end, I think I'd take the Dyna's console, but new Low Rider's version no longer seems as hideous as I once thought.

The next thing that caught my eye was the side covers.

Looking at the Dyna, there's no confusing the fact that a battery resides behind that cube-like box.

It's not trying to disguise anything. It embraces the form of the function, and it does so with a very tasteful design with hard edges and a chiseled face.

Over on the Softail, you have a bastardized "horseshoe oil tank" that truly serves to cover the mono shock anchored under the seat.

Not only does the faux scheme rub me the wrong way functionally, but it's sloppily executed. It seems like Harley cross-bred the Sportster side covers with the Softail oil bag and all we got was something that Saturn would have put on their cars.

The old Softail oil cans had such strong, sharp seams.

Courtesy of Low Rider (lowrider.com)

It looked more hand-made component while the new "oil tanks" look more manufactured, and frankly, lazy.

Again, the Dyna comes out on top when aesthetics are concerned.

Next was the swingarm.

Here's the Dyna:

Nothing special: a long, horizontal bar attached to an obliquely-mounted rear shock. I wouldn't call it pretty, but I also wouldn't call it ugly.

With the 2018, the "Softail" no longer resembles the rigid frames of the past.

Sure, the top bar slopes from the neck to the rear axle, but the lower arm resembles the Dyna's swingarm more than the bottom tubes of the past.

For this reason specifically, I wish they would have renamed the line of Softails to something completely new (Classic line, Heritage line, etc.). I'm sure Harley has an attachment to their registered trademark, but advertising these bikes as a "Softail" not only does a disservice to the customer but to the bikes as well. They're masquerading as something they aren't when they have the opportunity to make history under a whole new moniker.

In the end, the design of the bikes is just that, eye candy. Having a beautiful bike won't get you out of a pickle the same way Ms. Universe don't win a Nobel Peace Prize. It all depends on what you're looking for in a bike, and the other side of the coin that needs to be taken into account is...

Performance

First up was the Dyna Low Rider.

As soon as I threw my leg over the bike I could feel the size difference. My Sporty has a very narrow pan-style seat, so the added cushion and width on the Dyna made my legs bow a lot more than I'm used to. I truly felt like I was in a saddle (the horse kind). I almost looked for stirrups instead of the pegs.

Once we rolled out of the lot, I picked my feet up and immediately noticed the forward-mid controls. Coming from the Iron, where you're feet are directly below your knees at a 90-degree angle, this slightly relaxed feel (relative/subjective) was ergonomically welcomed.

For someone with minimum rise handlebars, I was surprised that I enjoyed the upright feeling as opposed to the hunchbacked, clamshell'd stance of my Sportster. I attribute that to the lower seat height and geometry of the Dyna. Though I've heard a lot of people mention that you feel inside a Dyna or Softail and that you feel on top of a Sportster, I couldn't relate until I experienced the ride of the bigger models myself. But the sense of control isn't the only thing that inside feeling provides.

When you get on the throttle of these bikes, they haul - and I mean teeth-clenching, white-knuckled speed. It's a funny game of inertia. The bike shoots forward while you feel like you're getting the hook offstage. But when that sensation kicks in, I felt like my rear was diving into the seat as opposed to sliding off it, like it does on the Sporty.

What I couldn't get over was the SHAKES. During long rides on the Iron (300+ miles), my hands would start to tingle toward the end of the day from the engine vibration. On our test ride, holding onto the Dyna's bars felt like I was trying to tame a jackhammer. I noticed it so much at one stop light that I glanced over at my Salesman as a point of reference, but because he was on a 2016 Softail Slim (counterbalanced), his arms were completely still. I know there are aftermarket products that solve this issue and the attribute could be a quirk of this particular bike, but I was looking for something to mitigate that sensation I experienced on the Iron, not amplify it.

All in all, the Dyna thoroughly impressed me. Aside from trembling like a dog at the vet and the incessant decel popping (obviously local to these particular pipes), the bike performed very well. It cornered much easier than I anticipated, pulled harder than a Strongman in the Bus Pull, and the braking performed at a much more consistent rate than my XL.

Next up was the 2018 Low Rider...

...Softail that is. For those that aren't avid Harley followers, the Low Rider model was converted to the Softail platform this year when the company discontinued the Dyna line. While this caused a major uproar from the Dyna faithful and Harley fans in general, I wanted to reserve my thoughts until I properly test rode one.

This year's model comes stock with a two-up seat, so Michelle strapped up her helmet and climbed on the back. Ultimately, I began my search for a bigger bike with her in mind. The Sporty's small size along with the stiff suspension has significantly contributed to the possibility of back arthritis in our futures so I wanted her to experience the difference between the Iron and Softail first-hand (the Dyna only had a solo seat).

With Michelle safely packed on the fender, I fired up the bike...and that's when it started to feel all kinds of wrong. Maybe 'fired up' isn't the right word, because the noise of the motor only rivaled the fluttering of a hummingbird. I remember thinking, "what is this?" No shake. No rumble. No roar. No potato-potato. How is this a Harley?

Before I knew it, my Salesman pulled into traffic. I wanted more time. I wanted to mourn the death of everything I'd come to love about the Sporty. That mechanical clank of the engine. That car alarm-activating exhaust. That feeling it gave you when you hit the ignition and she thundered to life.

Reluctantly, I jammed down on the shift peg and eased out the clutch. We were on the road. We were riding, but it felt more like floating. With the antiquated suspension of the Iron, I've become accustomed to absorbing every bump in the road with my own ass. It made me feel like I was connected to the tarmac, like I was one with it, even if it occasionally sent my tailbone up through my skull. With all that said, I wasn't sure about this new sensation. This...comfort. I wasn't used to it. I didn't trust it.

Then I pulled back on the throttle and instantly felt the rear compress downward. The acceleration force seemed like it was pulling my arms out of their socket. Michelle's fingers dug into my ribcage as she scrambled to cling to everything in arm's reach (the first thing she said to me when we returned to the dealership was, "if we get that, we need a sissy bar.") My measly 883 resembled a scooter when compared to the torpedo we were currently riding. It's power. It's smooth delivery. It's pull. It felt like everything was multiplied by two (literally, 54 ci vs. 107 ci.).

But once we got up to speed, the lack in engine and pipe noise made it hard for me to find my shift points. On my Sportster, the loudness of the Evo engine cues my every move. High growl? Upshift. Labored chugging? Downshift. I've developed a symbiotic relationship with that machine. We both rely on one another to get what we want. For one, work. For the other, play. I rarely look at my speedo at all when I ride. I'm sure most people do this, but I shift by feel and this was completely foreign. I couldn't feel anything. It was almost anemic. By Harley terms, it was soul-less.

Once we arrived back at the dealership, I sat down with Michelle and she praised the ride of the new Softail.

"I love it," she declared. "I thought you didn't like the looks?" I challenged. "Yeah, but she's so pretty in person...and comfy" "Yeah, but you can barely hear her. I mean, the pipes suck and there's no rumble."

And then she told me one of the most eye-opening things I’ve heard in a long time.

"Babe, those are all bad things."

At that moment, it dawned on me. My mind was closed. I've been so used to the way my Sporty performed that I couldn't see the new bikes for what they were...a mechanical improvement.

"Did we go over any bumps?" I asked. "Yeah, a big one in that intersection," she exclaimed. "I didn't even feel it." "Yeah, that's a good thing."

There's been a lot of controversy around the new Softails. With the burgeoning Dyna culture, it's no surprise that the fanbase would have an adverse reaction to the axing of a great platform and a cross-pollination that doesn't seem true to either name. But are we throwing out the baby with the bathwater? Can these new models be "Harleys" even if they're not the same as the ones from the past? Can they be great like the Dynas and FXRs before them without tarnishing those legacies? Can all bikes be good or serve a purpose even if they aren’t your style or preference? I can definitely say that the new Softails have a more metric feel to them, but is that the worst thing in the world if that means gaining performance?

Let me know your thoughts on the new Softails and the Death of the Dyna in the comments. The more argument (constructive, of course) the better. And let me know what you think I should get for my next bike and why. It obviously won’t determine what I get, but if there’s one thing in the world I love it’s difference of opinion.

Aside from that, be safe and ride on, y'all!

62 notes · View notes