I rolled on the throttle. I rocked backward. The rear shock compressed. And the front wheel lifted off the tarmac.

I’m a minimalist. I own seven pairs of underwear. I own 3 pairs of shoes - black boots, brown boots, and running shoes. I own one motorcycle. And most importantly, I don’town a car. 

In my quest to downsize my possessions, I asked myself:

Do I really need a shelf full of books? Not when I can borrow them from the library. 

Do I really have to collect vinyls? Not when I can Spotify the record.

Do I really need a second motorcycle? Maybe we should talk about this one…

When you undertake this lifestyle, you realize that simplicity doesn’t always lend itself to functionality. You learn that you better do laundry every week or you’re going commando on Monday. You learn to dress up your boots for the work week and dress them down for weekend hikes. And you learn that you’re shit out of luck when your motorcycle gets a flat. 

If that last example seems oddly specific, that’s because I recently picked up a nail in my rear tire and had to take a sick day. I rely on one vehicle to get me to and from work, so I don’t have a plan B if anything goes wrong. They say the best ability is availability and I can’t expect the Harley to be 100% one-hundred percent of the time. So maybe a second motorcycle wouldn’t be such a bad idea, right?

I know what you’re saying, “why not just buy a car?” But I’m sorry faithful reader, that sounds far too practical and honestly isn’t an option for me. I enjoy not owning a car and I will do my best to keep it that way.

With that established, I should note that I want my second motorcycle to be off-road capable? I want to take on challenging, new terrain. I want to slide the back wheel out. I want to hit the whoops. I want to ride where I won’t get obliterated by a 2-ton cage on four wheels.

With that in mind, my search invariably led me to dual sports. Though I’d prefer a dedicated dirt bike, I’d also prefer to NOT own a pickup truck. How else would I get to the trails if I didn’t own an expensive toy (in the form of a truck) to cart my other expensive toy (in the form of a dirt bike) there? How could I keep my possessions to a minimum while justifying the purchase as a “necessary, and specialized” tool (wink, wink)?

Cue Zero’s light, dual sport, electric motorcycle, the FX.

At 289 lbs, the FX touts an astounding 46 horsepower and 78 ft-lb of torque! Versus Honda and Husqvarna’s 450cc dual sports, that’s a powerful package that was just begging to be ridden. So when I swung a leg over the FX, it’s safe to say that I was giddy as an alcoholic at an open bar.

At just under 35″, the Zero’s seat height isn’t for the vertically challenged. With 8.6″ of travel up front and 8.9″ in the rear, I had to use all of my 5′10″ frame to fit the bike. While stationary, I stabilized the bike on the tips of my toes, but anyone sub-5′8″ would probably need to favor one foot at stop lights, using their leg as a human kickstand of sorts. Compared to the low slung seat of my Harley and the intermediate height of the Naked bikes I’ve ridden recently, the FX felt like straddling a donkey without stirrups. 

With my toes brushing the concrete, I couldn’t help but bounce on the rear suspension. Surprisingly, the monoshock compressed quite easily, filling me with hope for undulating terrain, yet filling me with dread for twisting roads. It’s safe to say that my past experience with Yamaha’s FZ-07 left me with a residual distrust of mushy springs. 

Once the rest of the group mounted up, we set out for the Hollywood Hills. Zipping along Fairfax Ave, our e-motors buzzed like a pack of RC cars, the audible whir increasing along with our speed. If there’s anything consistent across the Zero models that I’ve tested (FX & SR/F), it’s the sophistication of the throttle mapping. Without the modulation of a clutch, you would assume that the power would engage the back wheel instantaneously, but the gradual roll on aids the most ham-fisted riders and ramps up with exponential velocity as you twist your wrist. 

While the FX gains speed without effort, it also holds low speeds with nuance and finesse. Squeaking past Hollywood traffic isn’t an easy feat for many a bike, but Zero’s dual sport pulls it off with a controlled low-speed mapping and steering. 

The narrow frame squeezes through the smallest of spaces and its height allows the handlebars to easily float over side view mirrors. With a combination of weasel-like maneuverability and a range of 91 miles per charge, the FX challenges all other commuter candidates in the field. 

As my group turned off Hollywood, leaving the urban landscape behind, I was pleased to see an empty street winding up a steep hill. That’s when the pace quickened. That’s when motor really stretched its legs. That’s when I could test out that suspect suspension.

We accelerated up the increasing incline, each rider inclined to increase the space between them and those following. We banked right. We banked left. And to my surprise, the “mushy” monoshock retained its rigidity in the corners, responding to my every input. 

On my Harley, I depend on the weight of the bike to slow down my approach into an uphill corner, but on this featherweight, you barely lose any velocity. Despite my approaching speed, the bike easily negotiated each turn, relying on the combination of snappy handling and ride height/lean angle. 

Though blasting through the corners is fun, speed is nothing without brakes, and the FX delivers in that department. Once we slowed to a stop, I peered down at the front rotor, floored by the fact that it only housed a single 240 mm rotor and a 4-piston caliper. The stiff, even braking left me perplexed. How could such a minimal package provide maximum performance?  

I could chalk it up to the light weight of the FX, but that would be an oversimplification because the J-Juan calipers that come equipped on all Zeros have only outperformed my expectations on the bikes I’ve tested. 

Once the pack regrouped at a stop sign, we turned down a side street. 

I rolled on the throttle. I rocked backward. The rear shock compressed. And the front wheel lifted off the tarmac. 

Now, I can’t lie, I wanted to see if I could wheelie the FX. Lacking a clutch, Zero’s dual sport has to rely on horsepower alone to get that front wheel up, and I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t curious if it could do it. But once I achieved my goal, I came to my senses and kept my lead wrist in check.

We soon descended the domestic labyrinth, bending the fleet of Zeros through the gentle curves of the Hollywood Hills neighborhood. Little did I know, a stop sign was waiting for me at the bottom of the hill. 

I stabbed the front brake. I slammed on the rear pedal. I braced for the endo. I waited for the rear to break loose. But instead, the bike eased to a steady stop, the calipers progressively clamping down on the frisbee-sized rotors. 

After that close call, I diagnosed the only shortfall with the FX, and it wasn’t the brakes, it wasn’t the handling, and it damn sure wasn’t the power. The sole complaint I had for the FX was the ergonomics. 

While the bars are wide, while the riding posture is upright, the height of the footpegs leave your lower quarters cramped. At a level angle, the pegs force your feet into an acute angle with your shins. Having my knees bunched up, I found myself frequently dangling my right foot where it naturally wanted to rest, under the brake pedal. Not the safest of positions when you need to brake in an emergency.

But aside from the performance of the bike, you also have to take pragmatism into account. The biggest barriers for the FX - and most electric motorcycles - are price and range. With an MSRP over $10K, I’m not sure if I could justify purchasing a bike that only nets an hour and a half of ride time. I wouldn’t be able to undertake a long trip on the FX. I would be limited to a 45-mile riding radius or risk the possibility of not making it back home. Living in the city, I’m not sure if I could even make it to the dirt with that capacity (or lack thereof).

In order to get the most out of the FX, I would need to transport it to the nearest trail, and it doesn’t make much sense to pay for a $10K bike that would need a $20K truck for me to properly enjoy it. At a scant 91 miles per 9.7-hour charge, I realized that the best ability truly is availability. And I’ll take a Harley that’s 100% ninety percent of the time versus a Zero that is only 100% fifty percent of the time. 

In time, the range of e-bikes will increase and the price will decrease, but for now, I’ll rely on my good ole Low Rider…and maybe take a few more sick days.

Harley-Davidson’s Baby Bike

Sometimes less does mean more… customers.

Yesterday, Harley announced their partnership with Chinese Manufacturer, Qianjiang Motorcycle Company Limited, to produce the smallest bike in their current lineup. 

At 338cc, HD will only offer the entry-level moto in China, catering to the needs of its large and ever-growing urban population. Whether you agree with the move or not, the announcement aligns with the company’s current direction, appealing to a younger, metropolitan demographic. 

With a goal to reach 50% revenue in international sales by 2027, this news marks a pivotal moment in Harley’s future plans. While the rest of the motorcycle industry turns their attention to India, gaining access to the highly restrictive Chinese market helps the Motor Company plant a flag where others are unwilling to go. This move will also help Harley explore where it’s been historically reluctant to go, design updates.

Sporting a trellis frame and an inline twin, the new bike feels miles away from your classic Harley. Where are the forward controls? How am I supposed to attach a sissy bar? Why isn’t the motor v-shaped?

Despite all the departures from HD’s vintage aesthetic, the twin thumper still retains the iconic silhouette of one of the Motor Company’s most decorated models, the XR750. Leveraging the peanut tank, the tail section, and the livery of the XR, the brand plans to draw upon its legacy to attract a new group of riders. By leaning on the racing heritage, Harley preserves the design continuity of their past and acts as a stabilizing force in the face of a rapidly changing customer base. If the technology changes, if the feeling changes, at least the design is familiar. 

Harley seems to be following the approach Ford took with the Mustang and VW chose for the Beetle: they’re making what’s old new again. You could say that’s what Harley’s always done, but this time, they’re not afraid to change what’s under the hood/tank. However new, however earth-shattering the design may be to the Harley faithful, I’d be remiss to not mention how HD’s newest model eerily resembles another bike that Qianjiang manufactures, the Benelli TNT 300. 

Even if they’re essentially rebranding another bike, even if the production of the bike is restricted to China, I certainly hope the model makes its way to the states (along with production [of North American units]) because the small displacement market is the fastest growing segment in the industry. New and younger riders tend to opt for smaller, lighter bikes, and the Motor Company lacks a sub-500cc offering as it stands. 

You could say that the Street and Sportster acts as Harley’s beginner bikes already, but at  450 and 550 lbs respectively, many new riders (female and male) don’t consider those models manageable rigs for their first two-wheeled vehicle. 

With a 338cc motor, the MoCo’s baby brawler could deliver a lower entry point for riders (in age and weight), increasing the likelihood of developing brand loyalty with younger riders. 

While I think this is a great move for HOG, I can’t help but ask: 

Why aren’t they going even further/smaller? 

It makes me wonder why Harley doesn’t have a line of 125cc and 250cc dirt bikes. It makes me question where their 50cc and 75cc pit bikes are. If they really want to develop riders from a young age, why aren’t they making models that grow with them? Why are the majority of dirt bikes produced by Japanese and Austrian-based companies when it’s a predominantly American sport? If there’s such a big demand for dirt bikes in America, why doesn’t Harley have a dog in that fight?

In March of this year, HD purchased StayCyc, a brand that makes e-bikes for young children. At the time of the news, I saw this move as a forward-thinking. I felt that this would help the Motor Company appeal to future generations much earlier than their mid-life crisis.

But once those kids outgrow those mini electric bikes, are they supposed to wait another 10 years before they jump on an 883? Are they expected to stay loyal to Harley when competing brands offer the next immediate step up?

While this announcement is an encouraging move for Harley’s evolution, they need to address the gap between their product lineup if they’re going to retain the youngest of customers. I can only hope that their promise to introduce 100 new models in the next 10 years will fill in that gaping hole. I mean, who wouldn’t want a Harley-Davidson dirt bike? 

Though I feel the introduction of a 338cc motorcycle is a good step for HD, I look forward to seeing the next foot drop. The story will only continue to develop and I’ll be rooting for them the whole way.

What do you think of the new model? What do you think of Harley producing it exclusively for China? Would you want to see more small displacement options from the Motor Company? 

Let me know your thoughts in the comments.

My big girl hit the 10,000-mile mark the other day. 

Like the previous time I reached 5-digits on the odometer, it was a moment of immense pride for me. Sure, I like customizing my bike. Sure I like wrenching on my bike. But there’s nothing I like more than riding my bike. 

It takes those miles to understand the ins and outs of your bike, to learn how the back end reacts to wet asphalt, to figure out that you should put in an extra quart of oil for the last thousand miles before a service (they’re oddly specific for a reason ;). It takes time in the saddle to know that she gets 40+ mpg on the highway and 30+ mpg in the city (not advertised), that her handlebars start shaking at 4,000 rpm, that her tail light sits crooked after a long ride. It takes those rides to see how she performs at altitude, to know whether she can handle 100+ degree heat, to realize that you can huddle before her warm engine on a cold morning.

Like all milestones or anniversaries, the 10,000-mile mark allows you to take stock of what you have. It allows you to look back on what you’ve accomplished together. 

It allows you to look back on the good days…

…and the bad days.

I’ve pampered her…

…and I’ve abused her.

She’s ripped through the twisties…

…but she’s slowed me down to enjoy the simple things.

We’ve been to mountain tops…

…and valley floors.

She’s taken me to the coast…

…and to the forest.

Without her, I never would have made it to Man Camp…

…or Bass Lake…

…or Yosemite…

…and you can’t forget about Big Sur.

If it weren’t for my Sofia, I wouldn’t have seen the beautiful choppers at Locked N’ Lodi.

I wouldn’t have attended Dyna Days.

I would have stayed home instead of going to IMS.

She’s even turned me on to neighborhood gems like The House of Machines…

…and Elysian Park.

She’s a beauty…

…and a beast!

But most importantly, she’s brought me closer to those I love…

…and introduces me to new friends.

She makes me feel bad-ass.

She makes me feel like I’m on top of the world.

She makes me feel good about myself…

…and isn’t that what motorcycles are all about?

So with that, here’s to the next 10,000 miles, Sofia!

Where you riding this weekend?

Whenever I read or watch motorcycle reviews, I can’t help but notice a heavy reliance on spec sheets. And I get it, approaching a subjective review of a product with an objective data set certainly helps set the playing field for all competing models. However, this post isn’t about the latest electric naked bike that just hit the market or the revamped scrambler that is being hyped as “game-changing”. This post is about my daily rider.

With that in mind, I could dwell on the dual-bending valve Showa forks, or my high-flow S&S air cleaner, or the 102 ft lbs of torque that the Milwaukee 8 engine produces. But bragging about your bike’s specs is like plastering a “Proud Parent of an Honor Student” on your bumper or boasting about how attractive your significant other is. They’re used to favorably reflect on you, not reflect how that person - or in this case, motorcycle - makes you feel. Sure, your girlfriend could be model material but if she treats you like shit, why does her “hotness” matter, right?

So I’m not going to take that approach in this review. Instead of flooding you with figures on compression rates, length of suspension travel, or lean angle**, I’m going to explain how all of those things contribute to the feeling she gives me. 

**Please see the stock spec sheet here (if it interests you)

I purchased my Low Rider in April of 2018. I had to trade in my Sportster Iron 883 - which was heartbreaking for me at the time (see the story here) - but it was well worth the sacrifice. From the moment I rolled her off the lot, I knew I made the right decision. 

She handled better than the Sporty. She accelerated WAY faster than the 883. And most importantly, she braked lightyears beyond the Iron.

Now, I know what you’re thinking: 

I don’t want to know if it’s better than a Sportster, I want to know whether it’s a good purchase.

But I think it’s important for me to establish the bike I originally owned and how that shaped my assessment of the FXLR, and the first place I noticed an improvement was in the suspension. 

The combination of Showa forks up front and the monoshock out back puts Harley’s past suspension offerings to shame. For 650 lbs., the bike feels responsive and surprisingly nimble. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that the bike dives into corners and I’ve definitely put that feature to use. But the fork not only allows you to attack the twisties, but it also does a great job of keeping the rubber to the road. The wheel hop of the Sportster: eliminated. If you’re debating whether you should buy a new Softail, I could easily make a case with the upgraded forks alone, but that’s just the front suspension, you still have the brilliant monoshock in the rear. 

While the fork provides improved handling, the rear suspension grants a new level of comfort. Those potholes no longer send shocks through my spine. Those railroad tracks no longer make my teeth click. Those road irregularities no longer buck my girlfriend off the seat. And if there’s any barometer of rear suspension performance, it’s your old lady’s ass…and mine loves the FXLR. But comfort isn’t the best feature of the monoshock, the stability it provides is. I’ve hit 120 mph twice on the Low Rider thus far, and the stability of the bike never faltered. The speed wobbles of the Dyna: eliminated. Are you noticing a theme here yet?

But don’t get me wrong, the suspension isn’t perfect. There’s no adjustability in the front and the rear doesn’t give you dampening or rebound settings. Also, you have to remove the seat to adjust the monoshock. Unless you’re planning on carrying a flathead screwdriver on you, I wouldn’t set my heart on changing the preload on the fly. 

Now, I should note that I plan on upgrading to Ohlin’s suspension (front & rear) in the future, but the stock setup would be sufficient for 90% of those looking for a Harley. 

Ultimately, the OEM suspension makes me feel grateful. Grateful for the safety it provides. Grateful for the responsiveness it adds to such a massive bike. Grateful that I get comfort and performance right out of the box!

Which leads me directly to the heart of the Low Rider, the Milwaukee 8 motor.

It shakes less. It runs cooler. It pulls harder (through all 6 gears). Compared to the Twin Cams I’ve ridden, the M8 outshines them in every way. To be honest, you’ll probably need to regulate your own speed if you buy a new Softail because they’re most comfortable at 85-90 mph. Every time I ride on the highway, I hit 100 mph at least once (unintended and intended). There have been many times where I unconsciously hit 70 mph on surface streets! 

On the flipside, the M8 is very particular when it comes to modifications. My tuner/mechanic has told me that finding the right configuration of parts is crucial to any performance upgrades you install on the new mill. Luckily, I had some guidance, but if you’re considering customizing your Milwaukee 8, I suggest consulting a professional - or at the very least read some forum boards - before you slap on any old exhaust or fuel manager. 

On the note of fuel management, if you want to maintain the maximum range (200+ miles per tank), leave the engine in stock form. After my numerous mods, I’m lucky if I can squeak out 150 miles between fill-ups. I’d be lying if I said I regret sacrificing those additional 50 miles per tank - because Sofia absolutely rips - but it’s something you should weigh before buying or upgrading an M8.

 If I had to express how the engine makes me feel, I’d say it makes me feel spoiled. Spoiled by all that torque. Spoiled that she pulls through all 6 gears. Spoiled that I get the power of a Harley without all the shaking or heat.

Now, we’ve been dwelling on speed up to this point, but if you’re planning on going fast, you have to be able to stop as well…

When it comes to the brakes, I have to caveat that I ride my Low Rider harder than most Harleys are intended. I currently need new rotors, pads, lines (braided), and a master cylinder rebuild because I’ve run the brakes into the ground. 

Though the front end is only outfitted with a single disc, the bite of the 4-piston calipers really help to slow down the 650 lbs. of the Low Rider. While the front brake lever loses feel over time - due to the rubber brake lines - it easily retains the forceful braking of those 4-pot calipers. However, the same can’t be said of the rear caliper, which lacks any responsiveness and is downright mushy. 

Most riders say that the front brakes provide 70% of your stopping power while the rear covers the remaining 30%. On the FXLR, that ratio is more like 90/10. But in the end, you’re riding a Harley, and Harleys have never been known for their braking components. Now, that’s by no means an excuse, but if you’ve ridden a Harley before, your expectations are already set appropriately. If not, good luck! 

With the vague feel of the rear pedal and the diminished responsiveness of the front lever over time, I’d say that the brakes make the bike feel sketchy. But hey, you’re riding a chopper, baby! Sketchiness is part of the package.

In the end, if I had to do it all over again, I would buy the Low Rider every time. The bike outperforms every Harley I’ve ever ridden and it’s one of the most aesthetically versatile platforms under HD. You can go Club Style, Bobber, Chopper. Hell, I’ve even seen Scrambler and Cafe Racer M8 Softails. It’s for that reason, that I didn’t cover the design of the Low Rider. I think my bike is the perfect example of the FXLR being a blank canvas for you to customize yourself. 

Now the only question left is: when are you upgrading?

Let’s just get this out of the way, I wouldn’t buy the GT 650 or INT 650 as my second bike. I’d buy it as my first.

Up to this point, I’ve been judging motorcycles based on my personal search for a second motorcycle. My criteria consisted of 4 qualities: cheap, dirt-capable, lightweight, and powerful (added after I rode the Himalayan). On that note, neither of Royal Enfield’s new Twins meets those standards. Let’s just get this out of the way, I wouldn’t buy the GT 650 or INT 650 as my second bike. I’d buy it as my first.

Due to my first experience with Royal Enfield’s Himalayan, I had low expectations for the brand’s new 650s. The underwhelming power delivery, over-anxious brakes, and inconsistent suspension of the mini-ADV left me skeptical of Royal Enfield full lineup. It’s safe to say that I reeked of a dismissive air when I swung a leg over the INT, but my generalization of the brand was quickly remedied with the first whack of the throttle. 

Every motorcyclist knows the feeling of a good pull. It’s when the acceleration pushes you back in the saddle, when the rear shock compresses and the fork lightens, when you tighten your grip on the handlebars for fear of sliding off the back. My first pull on the INT 650 delivered such a sensation, so much that I said (out loud), “Whoa! That’s more like it!”

That 648 cc, single overhead cam engine that sent me hurtling through space and time happens to be the heart of the new Twins. With a torquey low-end power delivery, the engine boasts an exciting edge yet retains an affable disposition. Whether you’re running the Twins through their paces or cruising about town, the middleweight mill is happy to comply. For those hipsters looking for a CB750 or XS650, you no longer have to sacrifice reliability for aesthetics. The GT and INT 650 gives you the best of both worlds with smooth, efficient EFI fuel distribution and cafe racer styling. 

In my short time with the models, engine heat never factored into the equation either. Even with that day’s temperature topping 90° F, the oil/air-cooled mule inside the Twins never skipped a beat, even when the pace hastened. Although Royal’s 650s did get up to interstate speeds without hesitation, I should note that both models feel more at home on surface streets. The torquey motor benefits the urbanite from stoplight-to-stoplight and the lack of wind protection would quickly fatigue riders on longer journeys. 

Along with the punchy power delivery, the width of the frame, handlebars, and pegs allow the commuter to squeeze through the narrowest of spaces. I wish Royal’s Twins were on the market when I started riding because they’re great options for those just starting out, especially when it comes to the controls.

Like all of Royal Enfield’s lineup, the GT & INT opt for simplicity. The company tends to label its approach as “Purist” and a quick glance at the controls will drive that point home. Without the luxury of a TFT display, cruise control, or heated grips, the controls of the Twins are minimalist. That facet helps developing riders concentrate on the road instead of fiddling with menus and settings, allowing them to get comfortable with the clutch, throttle, and most importantly, the brakes.

Both models boast a single 320mm floating rotor with a two-piston ByBre caliper up front and a 240mm floating rotor clamped by a single-piston caliper out back. ByBre, the Indian subsidiary of Brembo, provides the braking components. I know what you’re thinking (Indian-made Brembos?), but the stopping power achieved with these “budget” calipers really do the job. Coupled with the 41mm fork and piggyback shocks, the braking system brings the hefty 450 lb bike to an even and controlled stop. Yes, neither component truly stands out on these bikes, when it comes to brakes and suspension, that’s usually a good thing!

It’s true that the INT & GT 650 share the same 648 SOHC engine, ByBre brakes, double-cradle steel frame, 41mm conventional forks, and coil-over rear suspension. However, they do differ in two major categories: aesthetics and ergonomics. The INT opts for a pseudo-scrambler look with high-rise handlebars (w. crossbar), bench-style seat, and mid-mount pegs. While the GT sports proper cafe racer cosmetics with clip-ons, single-seat (w. cowl), and rear sets. 

Despite the ergo divergence, both the Twins handled responsively, although I wouldn’t call them lithe. The added girth of the larger engine means that the supporting package needs beefing up (compared to other Royal Enfield models). As a result, the 650s weigh more than any other Royal Enfield and the extra poundage is evident in the corners. I wouldn’t label the Twins as unwieldy, but I also couldn’t praise them as flickable.

As a cruiser rider, the upright posture of the INT felt more natural, but the GT also proved the advantages of aggressive body positioning. With my abdomen lower to the tank, wind resistance was less of a factor and the direct input of the clip-ons resulted in a more reactive quality from the front end. Though the INT responded well to all of my inputs, I could dart through traffic on the GT (even if that feeling is primarily psychological - due to the ergonomics). For that reason, I think I’d side with the GT, as I’d primarily use both of Royal Enfield’s 650 in the city - and that’s where most consumers will ride these bikes.

With a base MSRP of $5,799, the GT & INT would be a viable starter bike for commuting students and city-dwellers. While most people warn novice riders against buying a 600+ cc motorcycle out of the gate, the 42 horses and 37 ft-lb of torque make the Twins manageable for newcomers. 

The retro-styling of the models will definitely appeal to a younger crowd and the affordable price point keeps them within reach. New riders tend to focus more on the aesthetics, but they will inevitably drop the bike (…a few times) and a lower price tag always helps to cushion those falls. If I were in the market for a first bike now, I would seriously reconsider buying the Harley-Davidson Sportster Iron 883, and I LOVED that bike.

If you’re new to the sport or searching for your first bike, I’d strongly suggest a test ride of the GT/INT 650. The combination of aesthetics, price point, approachable demeanor, and simplicity make Royal Enfield’s Twins a very attractive package. Not to mention, the 3-year, unlimited miles warranty with roadside assistance, reinforces the build quality of these machines. Believe me, If the company released a dirt-capable twin at a lighter curb weight, I’d be all over it. While that’s irrelevant when it comes to these models, the experience wasn’t for not. 

For me, Royal Enfields Twins were cheap, they were powerful, they just didn’t have taller suspension and knobbies that I’m looking for. Though I don’t plan to purchase the GT or INT 650, I learned that I will need my second bike to be commute-capable. The narrow footprint of the controls illustrated the importance of squirting through tight spaces in an urban environment. I guess my next bike will not only have to be cheap, dirt-capable, lightweight, and powerful but also commuter-friendly. I’m sure I’ll find that package in time, but for now, it’s on to the next bike!