I lean into my problems

I have a problem.
Actually, I have several.

Most of them appear to involve motorcycles, and the firm belief that perfectly functional factory components can probably be improved.

But suspension?
Suspension is different.

This isn't just:

“Ooooh, shiny.”

Although, to be fair, the new YSS stuff is quite shiny.

Suspension has always been one of those things I've cared about on motorcycles. Long before the Low Rider. Long before the personalised number plate. Long before I apparently decided that every motorcycle I own needs its own chapter on the internet.

Because you can have all the horsepower in the world...

...but if the bike is bouncing, wallowing, diving, kicking you out of the seat or generally behaving like the wheels and chassis have recently had an argument...
you're not going to enjoy using it.

And when the road starts bending?
That's when suspension stops being something buried underneath the motorcycle and becomes something you can feel.

So naturally...
I fix it.

This particular disease started with a Honda

Way back in 2009, I had the Honda Hornet.
And apparently even then I was incapable of simply leaving suspension alone.

Suspension Journey part i
Suspension Journey part ii

I ended up doing a deal that replaced the standard front forks with RaceTech-equipped forks and added an Öhlins 46DR rear shock. In true Paul fashion, I decided this was also an excellent opportunity to document the whole process because, as I wrote at the time, that seemed like the appropriately nerdy thing to do.

The installation process was also reassuringly familiar.

Remove forks.
Make tools.
Break tools.
Install forks.
Become slightly concerned about whether everything is actually tightened correctly.
Discover I don't have the right equipment to install the rear shock.
Carefully ride to Honda Hamilton.
Pay someone who knows what they're doing.

Perfect.

Honda Hamilton fitted the Öhlins, checked my handiwork at the front, and suddenly the Hornet had proper suspension at both ends. My original review was basically:

“It certainly seems better.”

Very scientific.
Very detailed.

Clearly the foundations of a future motorcycle journalist were already there. 😂

But it planted something.
A motorcycle with good suspension simply feels different.
More settled.
More predictable.
More willing to let you get on with riding rather than constantly negotiating with it.

And that lesson stuck.

Then came the Fat Bob

Fast-forward to 2015.

FXDF Suspension Upgrade

New Harley.
Same problem.
My FXDF Fat Bob was barely in my possession before I found myself heading down to Kiwi Suspension Solutions.
They happened to have a reconditioned ex-demo pair of Öhlins HD022 shocks available at nearly half price.

Obviously there was absolutely no possible way I could walk away from that.
I mean...
It would have been financially irresponsible not to buy them.

That's how motorcycle economics works.

The Öhlins went onto the Fat Bob and, while I was there, Robert Taylor casually suggested that perhaps the front suspension deserved some attention too.
Because Robert understands motorcyclists.

You don't say:

“Your suspension is terrible.”

You say:

“You know... while we're here...”

And suddenly someone's wallet becomes considerably lighter.
The Fat Bob ended up properly sorted and the difference reinforced something I'd already begun learning with the Honda:

Suspension isn't about making a motorcycle harsh.
Good suspension isn't necessarily stiff suspension.
It's about control.
You want the wheel moving over the road while the motorcycle itself remains composed.
You want the tyre following the surface rather than bouncing over it.
You want support when you're braking.
Control when you're accelerating.
And confidence when you're leaned over looking through a corner.

Especially that last one.

Then Dave Moss got involved

By 2018 I'd moved on to the Suzuki SV1000S.

Different motorcycle.
Completely different character.
Same obsession.
That year Dave Moss came to Hamilton for Shiny Side Up.

Dave Moss tuning

I've followed Dave's suspension work for years and, at the time, described him as fairly high on my list of motorcycle-guru man crushes.
Still seems reasonable.

I originally expected to spend the day sitting in the audience listening to him talk.
Instead he had some spare time.

Wicked.

So I spent most of Saturday listening, asking questions and fiddling with the SV's suspension with Dave Moss.
And that added another important lesson.

You can buy expensive suspension.
You can have adjustable suspension.
You can have knobs.
Clickers.
Springs.
Preload.
Rebound.
Compression.
Enough anodised aluminium to make a MotoGP engineer slightly aroused.

But if it's not set up properly...

you've basically just purchased expensive knobs.

Spring rate matters.
Sag matters.
Damping matters.
Balance between the front and rear matters.

Setup matters.

The best suspension component in the world isn't much use if the motorcycle attached to it has no idea what you're asking it to do.

Eleven years later...

And now we're back at Kiwi Suspension Solutions.

Again.

In the last post, after Robyn climbed onto the back of the Low Rider for her first ever pillion ride, I mentioned that I'd started thinking about suspension.

That was probably understating the situation slightly.

There had been conversations.
There were plans.
There were parts.

And now...

there is YSS.
Lots of YSS!

I've gone for a complete YSS suspension setup on the Low Rider.

Rear shock.
Front end.
Remote rear preload adjustment.

The works.
And seriously...

look at that rear spring.

RED.

On my black, chrome and red Low Rider.

It's almost as though somebody knew I was going to photograph it.

The only disappointing part is that Harley hides the bloody thing underneath the seat.
There's this lovely bright red piece of suspension engineering sitting there looking properly serious...

and then you put the seat back on.

Gone.
Bit rude really.

Robert Taylor. Again.

There is a reason Robert Taylor keeps appearing in these stories.

He's been doing this for a while.

Quite a while.

Back in 2007, Robert wrote that he already had 25 years of suspension experience, along with a suspension dyno, extensive specialist equipment and multiple technical trips to Sweden, the US and Italy. He talked about developing setups ranging from compliant road-bike suspension through to national championship-winning race applications.

That was nineteen years ago.

So when Robert starts talking about spring rates and damping...

I listen.

Cycle World has described him as a chassis guru, and Kiwi Rider has featured Kiwi Suspension Solutions setting motorcycles up specifically for rider weight and riding style. KSS's work isn't limited to race bikes either; Robert has long made the point that much of the job is improving ride quality and chassis control for ordinary riders dealing with our sometimes spectacularly ordinary New Zealand roads.

Which is exactly what interests me.
I'm not building a race bike.
Obviously.

It's a Harley-Davidson Low Rider with ape hangers, cowboy boots somewhere nearby and approximately enough chrome to interfere with local satellite communications.

But I do like corners.
Quite a lot, as it turns out.

And I want the bike to feel controlled when I get there.

Motorcycling New Zealand has also listed KSS supplying everything from Öhlins and Nitron through to YSS rear shocks, cartridges and fork upgrade kits, so Robert's involvement with YSS isn't exactly a new experiment.

And this time...
YSS it is.

There are knobs now

One particularly useful addition is the remote preload adjuster.

This little thing makes me disproportionately happy.
Particularly now that the motorcycle occasionally changes configuration from:

One idiot on a Harley

to:

One idiot plus Robyn on a Harley.

Changing passenger and luggage weight changes what you're asking the rear suspension to carry, and being able to alter preload without turning the process into a garage-based archaeological expedition is rather handy.

Dial.
Adjust.
Done.

It also looks like something important.
Which, as we've established, is a completely legitimate engineering requirement.

And up front...

The rear isn't doing all the work.

The front end has had the YSS treatment too.
And the giveaway is sitting right there at the top of the forks.

Those little YSS caps peeking through all that chrome make me grin.

Partly because they look cool.
But mostly because they represent something I've learned through the Honda, the Fat Bob and the Suzuki:

You don't really want a brilliant rear end attached to a front end that's doing something completely different.
The motorcycle needs to work as a system.

Front.
Rear.
Tyres.
Geometry.
Rider.
All having approximately the same conversation.

Preferably without anyone shouting.

NTB Racing gets the spanners

Of course, purchasing nice suspension and actually installing it correctly are two different things.
So the installation was handed over to Mark Fisher at NTB Racing in Hamilton.

Which feels appropriate, because NTB isn't exactly new to this motorcycle nonsense either.

NTB Racing began life as Northern Trail Bikes in northern England in 1998, originally working in the rapidly expanding off-road market. Racing involvement followed almost immediately and the business became an agent for brands including Gas Gas, Husaberg, Sherco, Husqvarna and Aprilia.

After relocating to New Zealand in 2010, NTB moved more heavily into road bikes and established itself in Hamilton, particularly around European machinery. Their workshop has specialist tooling and modern diagnostic equipment, but more importantly, there's that background of actually caring how motorcycles work rather than simply replacing whatever the workshop manual tells you to replace.

Which is exactly the sort of place I want pulling half my Harley apart.
Mark fitted the complete setup.

No homemade tools.
No broken homemade tools.
No cautiously riding into town afterwards wondering whether I'd remembered to torque something.

Apparently I've matured.

Slightly.

Funny how this keeps happening

Looking back through the old blog posts, I've realised this isn't really a series of unrelated motorcycle modifications.

There's a line through all of them.

2009 — Honda Hornet

RaceTech front.
Öhlins rear.
Start learning what better suspension feels like.

2015 — Harley-Davidson Fat Bob

Öhlins.
Kiwi Suspension Solutions.
Robert Taylor.
Discover that even a big Harley benefits enormously from getting the chassis sorted.

2018 — Suzuki SV1000S

Spend a day with Dave Moss.
Learn that suspension isn't just the hardware.
Setup is everything.

2026 — Harley-Davidson Low Rider

Robert Taylor.
Again.

Complete YSS setup.
Front and rear.
Remote preload adjustment.
Installed properly by Mark at NTB Racing.

Apparently I've been travelling towards this moment for seventeen years.

Which seems an unnecessarily long-winded way of becoming a suspension nerd.
But here we are.

Why bother?

The funny thing is that suspension is one of the least glamorous modifications you can make to a motorcycle.

Nobody hears your new shock when you start the bike.
It doesn't add horsepower.
It doesn't make:

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

any louder.
Half of my shiny new rear suspension disappears completely when I put the seat back on.
Nobody standing outside a café is going to wander over and say:

“Mate... your damping curve is fucking gorgeous.”

Probably.

But when you're riding?
That's where it matters.
When the road gets rough.
When you brake into a bend.
When the bike settles.
When you look through the corner.
When you tip it in.

And instead of wondering what the motorcycle is about to do...

you already know.
That's the good stuff.
That's confidence.

And confidence is what allows you to stop wrestling with a motorcycle and just...
ride it.
Which is exactly what I've been rediscovering since buying this Low Rider.

Look ahead.
Relax.
Set the line.
Tip it in.
Trust the bike.
Throttle.

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

Next corner.

I lean into my problems

So yes.
I have a problem.
I've owned this Harley for roughly five minutes and already changed the handlebars, grips, pegs and suspension.

I've bought intercoms.
I've taken Robyn pillion.

I've started inventing longer routes to places I could reach much faster by simply behaving like a normal person.
And now I've installed adjustable suspension because apparently the 300-ish kilogram chrome-covered Milwaukee tractor needs to be even better at going around corners.

Could I have left it standard?
Absolutely.

Was there anything catastrophically wrong with it?
Nope. (although I bet a months salary Mark and Robert would disagree with that!)

Because I've learned something over all those years and all those motorcycles.
When something between me and the next corner isn't quite right...
I don't ignore it.
I don't ride around it.
I don't pretend I can't feel it.

I fix it.

Then I point the motorcycle at a twisty road and see what happens.
Some people run from their problems.

Apparently...

I lean into mine.

🤘

FUCK YEAH.

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