The V-Rod has always been a strange curiosity for me, as a rider, an enthusiast, and as a writer. When I got my first glimpse of a V-Rod in 2002, I was let down a little by many of it’s styling cues as well as it’s overall function. Without ever driving one, I thought it looked cumbersome and a bit too flashy. To me, the idea was lame; who wants a drag-racer styled bike that still gets its ass handed to it by smaller displacement foreign bikes? Unfortunately, the same fate has happened to Milwaukee’s famous Big Twin as every foreign motorcycle manufacturer has nibbled off H-D’s nuts to make their bikes look like Harleys, yet outperform them at the same time.

Two years ago, in 2007, I was very upside down on my latest bike, a 2005 Springer Softail Classic, when I first saw the sinister VRSCDX, Night Rod Special. I had received the Spring 2007 edition of Enthusiast magazine. On the cover was a rider straddling a Night Rod Special, with the title Pick the Perfect Power Cruiser. I immediately began scouring the local dealers to get my first glimpse of this monster. The DX quickly became my favorite stock H-D. With several short phone calls later, I discovered this bike would be a tough acquisition for me both financially, emotionally (my wife), and availability. Hearing the possibility it may be a “one-year-only” bike, I desperately tried to figure out a way to get it. Unfortunately, I was VERY upside down on my Springer, and the going rate for the DX was around $23,000. Honestly, I couldn’t swing it. Rather than sit around crying about it, I began to chop my Springer Classic, work my ass off, and make double payments.

2008 saw another change to the DX line that made my lust grow even stronger; the addition of ABS as well as an engine punch-up from 1130 cc to the famed Screaming Eagle sized 1250 cc! The possibility was starting to creep into my head again, but I really wasn’t in a situation financially to get the bike, so again I let it settle into the back of my brain. At least I thought I could forget my lust, until I saw one on the road.

After having some engine work done to my bike and stripping her of all unnecessary weight, I quickly got the reputation as having the fastest Harley, at least with my riding buddies. The punched out 88 was eating stock 96’s all day long and even held it’s own with H-D’s Screaming Eagle CVO’s until the 110 came out. This is just freeway racing, I never took the bike to a drag strip. For the most part, my bike could hang with the best of them and I have opened her up enough to peg the speedometer’s listed 120 mph on more than one occasion. One crisp night I was flying down Hwy 59 at a clip of at least 120mph when I saw a black flash scream by me like I was standing still. Even at that speed I could tell it was my beloved VRSCDX, and my fever began to burn once again at a psychotic rate. I had to get one. The growl of the aftermarket pipes made this sound very different from the sewing machine V-Rods I had heard in the past. It sounded more like an explosion than a motorcycle; a cross between a Hyabusa and Harley!

So, with a scheme of trading in my wife’s Sportster and getting the Night Rod Special, I rode into Kingwood Harley 5 miles from my house. After getting the disappointing offer on her trade in and being told I would have to fork over $2500 clams before still financing the $16,000 dollar remaining balance, I had to decline the deal. No matter how bad ass I thought this bike was, I refused to bury myself in another 7-year note paying over $35,000 for a bike. If you add in the fact that I had never even ridden a V-Rod, the thought became preposterous. I once again stored the image into the back of my brain and tried to concentrate on other things. In other words, I chopped my bike up even more and convinced myself I didn’t need another bike.

Every time I went to the dealer, I would find myself drawn to the NRS, lurking in the corner like a panther resting before the hunt. I had visions of that same bike flying by me on the freeway and frankly, it made my dick hard. I wanted this bike like a crackhead fiends for his rock.

After the release of Harley’s new Muscle, and with the economic woes of late, I started to see the prices of my desired DX drop some. No longer was I seeing 22 or 23 grand, but a more reasonable 18 and 19 grand giving me a glimmer of hope.

This past January, I left my job of 7 years to get in on the ground floor of a new company. After getting the horrible statement showing my 401k had drizzled down to a 101k, I decided to cash in on what was left a pay off some debt. My wife and I decided to pay off my Springer and her Sportster. Against her greatest hopes, my friends knew it would only be a matter of time before I tried to buy the DX. Some of them tried in vain to tell me how cool my bike was and how I would be dumb for getting rid of it. Constantly I would hear how I didn’t need a different bike, and I should just be happy with the one I already had. Throw in the fact that it was now paid for, and the idea of another bike note became absurd.

First of all, I don’t care how cool you think my bike is… it’s MY bike. Secondly, I have never claimed to be smart, so back the fuck off!

I planned on chopping my bike even more and started designing the extreme road machine. With a plan to have my front end raked to 40 degrees and to get my heads ported and flowed, I began making calls to shops like Lucky Devil Cycles to book an opening. Unfortunately, he was extremely busy and couldn’t make a spot for me at the time. Not to be deterred, I decided to head to Harley to get a quote on the headwork. This is where fate stepped in, the devil set his crosshairs, or maybe it was just plain luck, but I can clearly look back and see this is the point of no return in my story.

The cockpit, half cruiser, half racer.

I decided to ride over to Kingwood Harley-Davidson about 5 miles from my house. I entered the store with the plan to port and polish the heads to try for the sacred 100 horespower mark when Dustin Hasselgren, The Finance and Sales Manager, came over and started shooting the shit. While I bored him with my elaborate plan to make my bike into a fire-breathing 100 horsepower monster, he made me an offer I thought I’d never hear.

“Hey, I’ll make you a retarded offer on that ’08 DX I have in the corner. I’ll even discount the warranty and throw in the first 5 services.”

My mind began to swirl with the plan of how to make this happen. Shit, the DX makes 125 horses before I even do anything to it! This bike featured things I could only dream of; anti-lock brakes, water cooling, slipper-clutch, and its bad ass looking. No bike before or since makes me stop and look like the DX. I told him I had to think about it, and I went home.

On one hand, I had a bad ass Springer that was paid for, but on the other, I had the opportunity to get the bike I really wanted for an unbelievably low price. I chose to check into the deal the following day. Sadly, I didn’t mention any of this to my wife. I could hardly sleep that night as visions of me flying down the freeway at 140 mph aboard the finest motorcycle Harley produced kept me fidgeting. Morning couldn’t come fast enough and I knew before the next nightfall the bike would be mine.

9 am the next morning, I strode into the dealer ready to hear the details on this “retarded” deal. I was pissed when the sales manager who I had been dealing with was off for the day. I knew he was going to give me the best deal, and I wasn’t sure any of these other salesman could pull the strings he could have. A phone call later, Mad Max Salas, my new salesman, was up to speed and ready to deal.

I was floored by their offer for my bike, $11,000! WTF? I couldn’t believe it, that price seemed really low. Just as I was getting ready to walk, they told me the price of the DX, $15,300. I don’t remember much after that except them bringing the bike around for a test drive. That was probably the worst thing I could have done. Before I knew it, I was signing the papers. With 5 year warranty, Service Plan, Tax, freight, etc, everything included, I financed $7500! For 4 years and less than 6 bucks a day, I was going to have the bike I always wanted! How could I turn this deal down? So, I bought the bike.

I called Mike, my trusted friend of many years and asked his advice. He responded in typical Mike form, “Enjoy your Porsche, pussy!” I knew he would understand.

Riding the DX is unlike any experience I have ever known. The speed off the line isn’t shocking, but the roll on power from 4500 rpms to 7500 seems unreal. The bike is a 5 speed, but because the powerband of the Revolution engine is so wide, it’s almost like having two gears for every click of the shifter. Without hesitation, this bike can go from 75 mph to 100 mph in 4th gear!. The top speed is easily over 130 mph and with very little work, I am sure I would hit the fabled 150 mph. Sitting bone-stock, I have personally had the bike to 130 mph and it was still pulling!. I haven’t had this much fun on the bike in a long time. The Dunlops are stable with a D240 240/40R-18 on the rear and a D208 120/70ZR-19 out front. The extra long wheelbase makes this a street-legal dragster that could be very lethal. I would call this a brutal ride in a different way than riding another Harley. Each style bike has its own attitude. Whether you ride a rigid, a Sportster, a garbage wagon, or a Japanese bike, you definitely get a different feel from each machine. I don’t care how many flames you put on a bike or how fast it “looks”, there really is no replacement for displacement, and I have never felt a stock Harley with this much pop out the door. Imagine what a few upgrades could make this thing do?

The dual disc, Brembo front brakes will stop on a dime. I mean that literally, on a dime. After getting used to the slowing power of my Springer’s front brake design, actually stopping when I hit the brakes was a welcomed yet surprising change. The front forks are somewhat spongy, but I think the remedy is as simple as stiffer fork oil. My only styling gripe is the addition of the aluminum hand levers and foot controls. With everything else being black, why not finish the bike off with black controls? I guess it’s the factory’s way of leaving the door open for a 200 dollar upgrade at point of purchase.

I have read of the limited ground clearance when turning the DX, but never felt the pegs scrape. Maybe I am not aggressive enough, or maybe it’s from being used to riding the slammed Softail with floorboards that has kept me in a straight line style, but this bike seems to handle everything I have thrown at it. Also noted, unlike the former 38 degree rakes the original V-Rod sports, this one has a much more manageable rake with a combined 36 inches if you include the trees. I never experienced the fabled flop that was associated with the earlier models.

The seat is uncomfortable after 30 miles, but that can be cured with the addition of Harley’s Sundowner, so I’m not too worried. The seat height is a low 25 inches combined with the drag style handlebar and forward foot peg position squeezes your abdomen together and stretches your back forwards. I am ok with the riding position, which I have heard is compared to a clam, but this bike isn’t for the meek. I wouldn’t recommend this bike for someone who is 40 pounds overweight and has a hard time tying their shoes. If you fit in this category, get a Geezer Glide. The Night Rod Special is a streetfighter that needs to be ridden by someone who can back up that claim. I can see women racing down the street on a DX without a problem. The younger “Dark Custom” demographic, most would find the ride to be as unbelievable as I did. This bike plain kicks ass and once you embrace this beast, I think the transition would be too hard to turn from.

To be honest, the bike still gets its ass handed to it by the street racers riding 1000cc rockets. This bike doesn’t carve canyons like a Ducati or Kawasaki. To be as frank as I can, this bike seems almost, un-Harley. But truthfully, I don’t care. The lines make me twitch with excitement. The ride makes me pull even harder for more throttle. Even the exhaust note that sounds closer to a jet engine that a traditional potato thumper makes me perk up. The main thing is this bike makes me want to get out and ride. I want to ride to the store. I want to ride to the beach. I want to ride across country. And at the end of the day, isn’t that really what all this is about?

On to Page 2...