Harley-Davidson Dyna Low Rider S - Serial Thriller
I’ve ridden and tested loads of Harley-Davidsons over the years. From cut-down Sporties to monstrous Ultras, I’ve thrown a leg over most of them.
I’ve also always “got” them. The old adage suggesting that riding a Harley is, well, “different”, is as true today as it ever was. There’s still that air of mystique, the atmosphere of cool and, it has to be said, some of the compromises that committing to a Hog demands. Oddly, most of the people who knock H-Ds have not ridden one. So I always say, “Ride one. After that come and talk to me.”
But, and it’s a big but, I’ve never desired to own any particular one. I have never felt the overwhelming hankering that grabs many to have an H-D tucked away in the shed. I’ve never personally owned a Harley and probably never thought I would. Until now.
Enter the Dyna Low Rider S. It all came about on the Harley-Davidson 100 Years in Australia ride in which I recently took part. Riding the leg from Sydney to Melbourne the interesting way, Harley Australia head honcho Nigel Keough tapped me on the should at a lunch stop, saying, “Hey Snag, why don’t you grab the Low Rider S. I reckon you just might like it.” (I’d been happily aboard a Road King to that point). “Why not,” I thought. And the rest, my friends, is history.
“So, just what is this thing?” Those were the thoughts as I wandered across the road to the bike. “Hmmm. Nice-looking jigger. Very nice,” my inner voice was saying as I wandered around the S for the first time and saw the starkly minimal hot-rod flat bars, with the race car-style black-faced instruments placed along the front centre of the tank. It all strikes a determined, pitlane posture. All the stuff you need, put in the right places and nothing else. I love that. It’s like Milwaukee created a model that had me solely in mind. And it hit smack bang in the centre of the Snag target on just about every front. Yep, this was love and it remains so.
Every time I rode that bike into a town, I felt like the lead in a Tarantino movie. All sinister and edgy, with gritty steel guitar strains and emerging through back-lit smoke. Okay, I’m getting a little carried away there, but this is a bike that engenders emotion, and that’s worth the price of entry all by itself.
It’s not all about looks either. With 156Nm of grunt making its presence felt at just 3500rpm, the stump-pulling way it hops away from stops puts a lot of supposedly sportier equipment to real shame. They might disappear into the distance after a couple of hundred metres, but by then the victory wreath is well and truly around your neck. That’s another thing I revelled in — fixing up smartarses from the lights. Don’t we like that?
All that torque calls for a bit of respect and more than once I found myself overpowering the rear rubber. It’s all pretty predictable, but a little more straight-line grip might be nice. Of course, clearance is pretty shallow, so you are unlikely to overuse the sidewall and edge grip, so the rubber is fine when pushing on and cornering. You’ll scrape pegs way before you’ve used all the tyre.
Now, where was I? Oh yes. The donk. The Low Rider S gets H-D’s performance arm’s hot powerplant, the 1801cc Screamin’ Eagle Twin Cam 110 engine with a heavy breather intake, all mounted in a pretty nimble Dyna chassis. It’s also defined by what H-D calls Premium front and rear suspension. There’s a low seat height of 685mm and mid-mount controls, which actually make for a very comfortable and aggressive riding position. On paper, I wouldn’t have expected that, but I rode the bike on some very long highway stretches and never felt sore or fatigued. The scooped seat offers a backrest effect and my clacker sat perfectly in place against it. All that meant I could relax, my knees bent comfortably and the reach to the bars spot on. Again, go figure. Did a Harley bloke come by in my sleep and measure me? I’m 178cm and 82kg. Bigger people may possibly find it all a little cramped.
The Low Rider S is offered only in Vivid Black paintwork. Black finishes and textures abound, all neatly contrasted with the lovely new Magnum Gold lightweight five-spoke cast-aluminium wheels. H-D reckons that was inspired by the gold-tone magnesium wheels used on race cars in the 1960s. A cool gold tank badge harks back to the influential and sexy 1977 XLCR Cafe Racer model. I couldn’t care less that it is not available in other colours. I’d be choosing this one no matter what. Black and gold? Natural bedfellows for mine.
Housed in the speedo and tachometer console are high beam, directional light bar, neutral, low oil pressure, engine diagnostics, turn signals, security system (standard), gear position, low-fuel warnings, and ABS warnings.
ABS is standard and the bike stops well. Again, that’s usually not a cruiser strong point. This one has twin 300mm floating discs with four-piston calipers. Yep, I know! In truth, if the brakes were at all inadequate, well that would put my fire out for this bike right there. After all, it gets up and boogies in a big way. Good news here is that you really do get primo gear on the S models (and, to be fair, you pay for it) and the brakes hit the mark admirably. Big tick there.
Also on the bike straight outta the box is cruise control. Cruise is a great thing on a bike. Just being able to give that right hand a bit of a breather every now and then is a big bonus. However, quite a few I’ve tried work poorly and are more trouble than they’re worth, often hunting and disengaging, with complex operational controls and the like. Forget all that in this case. In keeping with the minimal persona the S exudes, the control is via a small joystick under the left switchblock. It’s intuitive and neat. And it bloody works. Other brands, take note. Please. Ride by wire is standard fare as well.
The six-speed box makes good use of all the torque and with the limiter coming in a at a pretty low 5600rpm, banging through the gears quickly is the order of the day. It’s no hot-knife-through-butter-smooth in its action, though, so don’t expect Japan Inc-style changes. That said, it’s pretty good and a big improvement on Harleys of yore. The brake and gear levers are easily reached from the mid-mount controls and you’ll find yourself using a bit of back brake — much more than on a sports bike, for example. The length of the wheelbase at and the way weight is carried a fair way back makes the rear brake very effective.
Tight-traffic running is aided by a bit of rear-brake application to steady the ship and hold the bike nicely upright at very low speeds. Again, I loved the way that all came together. Oh, and its narrow nature coupled with that low seat makes the bike a great lane-splitter. I did a bit of commuting work on the bike and it was great for that. Another pleasing surprise.
THE VERDICT
Well, if you’ve read this far, I reckon you know what I’m going to say. This is one very accomplished and considered motorcycle. What could have come off as a badge-engineered show pony is anything but. It’s not cheap at $26,250, but it carries its S badge with pride and that announces better-quality componentry than cooking models and a big fat whack of street cred.
It’s dynamically sound, ergonomically clever, fast, comfy and well, let’s face it — drop-dead gorgeous. It’s like Uma Thurman to look at. Brooding, classy. Simple as that. I found myself in my shed just staring at the damned thing. And I reckon I will own one before I die.
You probably should too.
