First Ride: 2008 Harley-Davidson FLHTCU, 105th-Anniversary Edition

Photography By Bob Stokstad

A rough count of the other bikes I saw on the road while touring the Midwest in August suggests that two out of three bikes are made in Milwaukee. With customer approval like this, it seems hardly necessary to comment on any Harley, much less their venerable top tourer, the FLHTCU, a.k.a. the Ultra Classic Electra Glide. But there is still that other one-third and, if you belong to it, you might wonder what it's like to sit on one of these queens-of-the-road and ride into the sunset. I found out by picking up one at Harley's headquarters in Milwaukee.

Anything new and different requires a period of adjustment. I adjusted the day after picking up Big Mama (affectionate name I bestowed on the first day) by riding 300 miles between Milwaukee and Lansing, Michigan. Another 500 miles during the next week and I was completely at home with my new ride. I knew without thinking where that gigantic brake pedal was and how to maneuver the forward shift lever without getting my heel caught in the rearward lever. After first scoffing at cruise control, I fell in love with it. Never before having ridden a motorcycle with a backrest, I discovered the ergonomic blessing afforded by that awkward protuberance. And sitting hour after hour on that wide, comfy leather seat with feet up on those Model A-like running boards became a pleasant pastime interrupted only by the bike's need for fuel or my body's own biological requirements. I enjoyed listening to the radio over wind noise, through earplugs, with the volume flat out, still able to recognize human speech and song (gospel preachers and Country & Western come through best).

Even after riding a younger relative, a 2009 Street Glide with the new frame design and 180mm back tire, I felt no reason to forsake Big Mama. While there are a number of improvements in the '09 upgrade of the touring line, they of course do not render last year's model obsolete. Some are welcome—the rerouted exhaust pipes keep heat off the passenger—but at moderate speeds on country roads I couldn't detect a difference in handling. I could detect Big Mama's heft. In motion it's light as a feather, but try to back it out of a parking space and you'll discover that, like any 850-pound motorcycle of any make, it's about as easy to move as a comatose walrus.

After 1600 miles and the close of Harley-Davidson's 105th Anniversary celebrations, it was time to take leave of Big Mama, this gorgeous copper-colored, 105th-anniversary edition, serial number 0048 of 7000. When I got it, it had been on the road for 15 months and 10,000 miles, ridden by countless others, but I refuse to let jealousy spoil our relationship.