Harley-Davidson Softail Standard: High on the Hog

Parking the Harley-Davidson Softail Standard - a relative bargain at $22,995 - in my driveway made me inexcusably happy.

Live to ride: the Harley-Davidson Softail Standard. Picture: Scott Toepfer

What I love about the whole midlife crisis thing is the maths. I thought I was having one a decade ago – I was talking about dying my hair blond again, taking up golf and finally, definitely writing a novel – which was a worry, because it suggested I was going to die at 80. Today, as the mumblings of another midlife meltdown rumble beneath me in the suggestive shape of a Harley-Davidson, I’m much happier to calculate that if this is the real thing, I’m likely to live beyond 100.

Conversely, of course, if I am suddenly gripped by the desire to ride motorcycles more regularly I might struggle to make it to next week, because what strikes me very quickly every time I get back on one is that being rusty at riding is not like being out of practice at driving a car – it’s more like attempting to juggle two sharp axes and a chainsaw without practising on skittles first.

The sense that other motorists are going to kill you, not through murderous intent but deadly disregard, is constant and might explain why so many Harley owners take delivery of their new bikes and instantly do illegal things to the exhaust pipes – so that even if drivers don’t see them coming, they will at least hear, and possibly feel, their approach.

As a result I’m somewhat surprised by the almost polite “potato-potato-potato” chunterings of my unmodified 1746cc Milwaukee-Eight 107 V-Twin engine (no, I’ve no idea what all that means either, other than “it’s big”). It’s a lovely, belchy and brusque noise – Harley calls it a “soul-satisfying rumble” – but it feels like it should be louder. Imagine meeting Meatloaf and discovering that his speaking voice was sotto voce.

I found myself staring at it, admiring it and beginning to get the whole thing.

Unless I rode it around constantly in second gear, the sound wasn’t going to protect me against dozy drivers, so I felt like I needed to get my reaction times firing and be able to move quickly, which presented another slight problem. The Softail Standard has a “stretched riding position” with a “low-slung stance” and “mini ape-hanger” handlebars – all of which means you ride it in a semi-supine position with your hands in the air. (The term “Softail”, incidentally, means the rear suspension is hidden rather than boldly visible – not that you have a midlife-shaped, gravity-afflicted rear end that needs more padding.)

I’ve never understood the ape-hanger thing, a desire to raise the handlebars on a bike to the point where you look like you are hanging from a tree and possibly covered in fleas, but I do know it’s not ideal for making the quick, counter-steering manoeuvres that you can perform with your wrists on sporty Japanese motorcycles.

But this is one reason Harleys are associated with midlife spread, because they change your riding position from the head-down, bum-up, road-sniffing aggression of youth to one better designed to provide ample room for a beer belly. When I think about it, as a young person you are generally more in a hurry, walking on your toes, or at least bouncing off the balls of your feet, while the older man is more often seen cooling on his heels, and the Harley aesthetic reflects that, too.

A lack of cornering involvement has irked me in the past, but after some time with the Softail I have started to soften.

The aesthetic is, of course, what a Hog is all about, and I must admit that, increasingly, I find myself won over by the look. The Softail Standard is all gleaming chrome and polished black, and parking it in my driveway made me inexcusably happy. I found myself staring at it, admiring it and beginning to get the whole thing.

This particular Harley – a relative bargain at $22,995 – is described as raw, stripped-down and a “blank canvas for customisation”, which is where the company really cashes in as a man of a certain age starts buying bling to make his bike feel more personal and stand out even more.

It’s a machine to love, to fuss over and cherish, but it’s not made for the man in a hurry, nor does it feel particularly fast, in bike terms. The relaxed placement of the pegs mean that it has a lean angle of just 28.5 degrees (the technical term for that is “not a lot”) before you start making sparks and scaring yourself. This lack of cornering involvement has irked me in the past, but after some time with the Softail I have started to soften.

On the road

Similarly I’ve never liked the feeling that my chest becomes a giant windsock when riding Harley style, but on this bike I found a happy medium, between 80km/h and 100km/h, where it just feels… right. Relaxed. Effortless. Like riding a couch that vibrates slightly and looks marvellous when you slide past plate-glass windows.

Another thing I enjoyed about my borrowed Softail Standard was sending photos of it parked in front of my house to various friends around the world with the caption “Midlife crisis – it’s happened”, and pretending I’d bought it. Only one of them fell for the ruse, the others pointing out, correctly, that “You’re not that old… yet”.

Harley-Davidson Softail Standard

ENGINE: Milwaukee-Eight 107 V-Twin 1746cc (49kW/149Nm).

FUEL ECONOMY: 5 litres per 100km

TRANSMISSION: Six-speed, belt driven

PRICE: $22,995

STARS: 3.5 out of 5