Pack Mule on a Rocket

Having spent most of my motorcyclist life on bar hoppers, choppers and the occasional bagless standard, a practical thought finally got through to my head. Maybe something comfortable, something that had space enough for all the stuff I liked to overpack for long trips. Maybe something even, dare I say it, posh.

You may scoff and say I’m just getting soft, but I prefer to believe riding smarter is better than riding harder, at least in the long haul. Making slightly fewer dumb decisions is a nice perk of getting older. Comfortable bikes relieve road fatigue and extra storage space makes packing and unpacking quicker, easier and less tiring. Sit the roomy hard bags and big tour pak on a counterbalanced and rubber-mounted 117 cubic inch (1923 cc) power plant, load it with tech I can’t figure and you have Harley-Davidson’s luxury liner, the 2025 Street Glide Ultra.

Harley was foolhardy enough to loan me one for my ride from Los Angeles to Tombstone, AZ, some 1400-miles roundtrip after some local meandering. The town’s annual Helldorado Days celebration of all cool things 1880s was calling and I wanted to arrive in style and not feeling beat up and exhausted.

The old cowboy saying of, “ridden hard and put away wet,” came to mind when I recollected most of my long-distance adventures using machines not built for long-distance adventures. These were always marked by over-the-seat saddlebags that really didn’t hold all that much and a flail of bungee cords attaching what I could to where I could. Archimedes wrote, “Given enough bungees and I could carry the world,” or something close to that. Sometimes it felt like I did, including when I strapped a child-size rocking chair found at a faraway antique store to my sissy bar. It certainly was a conversation starter at gas stations and such. It was well worth flying from Belgium then riding a couple of hours for the big joyful smile on my little daughter’s face.

On this trip, I resisted bringing home any furniture, although I’m sure the Harley could handle it. I felt absolutely spoiled by the bike’s power (claimed 105 hp; 130 lb-ft torque). It floated down the superslab like a ’57 Cadillac, if the Cadillac was pulled by a locomotive, a posh, pretty locomotive. There was no hint of vibration through the seat, handgrips or floorboards, light years away from some of my older bikes that shook like cranky old washing machines. It was easy to slip into the zen of the ride on an open highway, cruising along in sixth gear and not even noticing I’m going at a speed that would instantly land me on the nearest chain gang. Do not attempt this at home.

At highway speeds, the Ultra is a dream, albeit sometimes a strange dream. The non-adjustable windshield was just high enough to make me a little crazy. I had to crane my neck to look over it, slouch to look through. My eyes tended to drop down to the top of the curved shield, bending light and making the highway lines a little squiggly. Some might like this sort of psychedelic effect but it kind of hurt my head. I thought about removing it altogether a couple of times, but keeping the wind and odd kamikaze bug off my face felt the smarter choice. I also thought about temporarily removing the passenger floorboards. I tended to smash my calves into them when backing up, but I didn’t take tools to either the boards or shield. Besides, Harley probably wouldn’t have appreciated me making mods, even itty bitty ones, to this $30,749 (base price) sled.

The Ultra is like a missile, built for speed but with plush accommodations. It’s when things slow way down that control becomes more of a deliberate and precise effort. The Street Glide Ultra weighs 866 lbs wet, according to the specs, but it feels heavier at parking lot speeds and tight maneuvers. If you make the mistake of parking it on a slope kickstand side downhill, then muscling it back up can get interesting. And if you’re in a mining town, say like Bisbee, AZ, which are almost invariably slopey, then you can really be in for some fun. And if that slope happens to be on dirt or gravel, it’s time to call your momma for help.

In my recent expedition to Tombstone for Helldorado Days, a ride up the mountain to Bisbee was on the menu. It was there, parking on a mild enough looking paved incline, that for the first time in some might say my aged motorcycling life, I was stuck. Embarrassingly, absurdly, stupidly stuck. I couldn’t get the kickstand off the ground no matter how hard I cursed at the thing. I couldn’t start the bike and ride off the stand because the Ultra doesn’t like that. It stalls. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, was I ready for assisted riding? After many years in the gym, I concluded this was not my fault, except for the parking in a dumb spot part.

At 5’ 7”, I didn’t have tremendous leverage in my legs to push the bike backward and just enough off that hill to get it going. Traffic stopped behind me for the show. But gradually, inch by inch, huffing and puffing and grunting, I got it done, damnit. I think I heard applause. Why didn’t the Ultra pick a fight with a guy its own size? I can’t say, but I learned the hard way, like most things I learn, where to park this colossus.

Still, it was puzzling. Harleys are well known for their low center of gravity and adept handling. The seat height is posted as an “unladen” 28.5 inches, which was a bit higher than expected and a little uncomfortable for me with boots not quite flat on the ground. I’ve ridden many models from The Motor Company over the years and this was a first. Maybe I’m just getting shorter. It happens, you know.

Trunk space to spare.

Maybe it was the electronics loaded fairing, or the spacious hard bags and tour pak, especially that steamer size trunk sitting high above the rear fender, or the fancy antifreeze coolant (for the heads) and oil/air (the rest of the engine) cooling plus electric fan setup wherever hidey-hole the factory stashed it, or a combination of things that skewed known Harley gravitational physics, but this FLHXU felt top heavy. I spent the rest of that trip avoiding inclines, slippery dirt and gravel, and making slow maneuvers that required more effort and focus than I ever anticipated. When I first saw the Ultra all I could think of was all the storage space and how I could fill it, and that awesome sound and navigation system.

I’d rather not listen to music while riding, I prefer the introspective equanimity, a nearly spiritual union with man, machine and road, hurling myself into the wind, riding into the future. I did appreciate, however, the Ultra’s big 12.3-inch touchscreen and speakers I can clearly hear even at highway speeds. This 200W system can get loud, like hear you clearly inside the house from the next block loud. I loved it. I couldn’t connect my Android phone to the Ultra’s Infotainment system, though. The bluetooth paired, but did nothing. An aftermarket AI Box adapter is needed. Reportedly, H-D is working on making the system more Android friendly.

Harley’s paint jobs are always stunning.

The bike offers information at a glance via multiple screens. You can touch-toggle to readouts of trip mileage, hours ridden, average mpg, average mph, tire pressure, ambient air temperature, date, the direction you’re going in case you forgot, miles before you need to fill-up, and oil temp. Other features include Road, Sport, Rain, and Custom ride modes, Vehicle (brake) Hold Control, and a Traction Control System. Some of these things I now know I never thought to know.

H-D claims the Ultra gets a combined highway/city fuel efficiency of about 44 mpg. That seemed high for such a brawny beastie, but it was pretty spot on. In fact, there were highway stretches where I got almost 50 mpg. A tip of the lid to The Motor Company for building a bike with tree-stump pulling power and rocket speed that also sips gas. Usually, those qualities are mutually exclusive of each other. The Ultra’s 6-gallon tank (maybe a half-gallon less since the fuel pump displaces volume), will take you around 260+ miles at mostly rational highway speeds. That’s a lot of go without a stop, but I recommend taking a quick break every 100 to 125 miles or so, eat a light snack like a banana or protein bar, hydrate with something electrolytic, maybe get some bike fuel if you’re a mind to and gas stations aren’t too far apart. I happen to believe in the old biker motto, “Never miss a chance to get gas or pee.” Wise words to live by.

Stopping for short breaks fairly frequently also fights fatigue, which is not only safer but can get you there quicker. The longer you push yourself the longer your breaks are likely to be. By the end of the day, you’ll probably have taken more time to get to your destination, and you arrive a lot more tired.

My bar hoppers, as well as some stock bikes, left me wanting to get off the road fairly frequently. Tired and sore, I’d ask anyone in proximity, “Excuse me citizen, but can you rub my butt? It’s ok, I’m a motorcycle enthusiast.” This rarely went over well, nor did it result in many butt rubs, sadly. The Ultra’s smooth ride and cushy seat left me with no excuse to ask strangers for some clinical comfort, not that it would stop me, hypothetically speaking.

The Street Glide Ultra is a mighty machine. It effortlessly floats down the interstate in calm contentment, eating miles, cutting through wind, weather and unexpected challenges like the two mild dust storms that attempted to deter me from my mission. They looked apocalyptic but were no match for the Ultra. It gallops effortlessly for as far as your body will last. Most at home on the highway, it didn’t much want to be bothered with going very slow, or parking, and I could almost hear it say, “don’t even think about it,” when eyeballing an uneven bit of ground for a place to throw down the kickstand.

Joshua

For more information, visit Harley-Davidson.com