Motorcycle specifications Harley-Davidson1450 DYNA LOW RIDER edition HOGGER 2001 After or before the end of the world?

some of life's encounters leave unaccustomed, imperishable memories. Or sometimes within the bounds of the putrescible, like this unusual rendezvous one sticky foggy evening.
A contact had informed me of the arrival of the famous and mysterious Hogger. A strange being, on the border between the imaginary and the nocturnal. Few have ever come close to him. Those who have seen him have discovered a new form of fear; those who know him would like to rediscover sensations like fear one day. But no matter what the risks, the individual must come this night with his bike, which he cherishes more than anything else, surpassing its identity and its smell.

that Harley.... Sorry, HIS Harley, Hogger has been working on it for nearly a year. His goal: to create the perfect motorcycle, his ideal, the fruit of his torments (there's always something that doesn't satisfy him, in his life as in his liver). So, when the opportunity arose to get to know his hard work, there was no way we could pass it up. Especially when you see this bike, it's hard to believe that it was originally a Dyna Low Rider.

but first, it's important to get to know the character. Knowing the individual is essential to understanding the bike. Esteban Hogger. You've already met him in some of the MP files, especially on the H-D and Saxon sides. Nobody knows his age, his true identity, his sex, his origins. But part of his story is symbolically engraved on his motorcycle. After much research into the cuneiform engravings adorning the tank, we discovered that Hogger was a Mossad agent who infiltrated the Tibetan secret service. After a harrowing mission to Bolivia, Hogger decided to leave his unit and live as a hermit. 10 years of solitude followed. Amputated of his right testicle and left eye, and stripped of his survival instinct, the man attempted a return to sociability.

the first step was to acquire a Dyna FXDL Low Rider 1450 cc... which didn't stay original for very long. After many transformations, the bike is now a mix between a Fat Boy and a Low Rider, with a clear touring-oriented bobber bias. Enough to give you a headache!
The whole thing has lost some of its harmony, becoming an extension of the owner's soul. The wheels sigh like a locomotive ready to haul thousands of wagons, proud of having covered a million kilometers and tired of doing it all over again. She waits, sure of herself, not very impatient, and not really enthusiastic about taking anyone other than her master.

i approach, while the 1450 looks at me with an evil eye, and the sky shylyand Hogger sets about patching one of his rangers with dried jackal leather. I shudder at the sight, but I'll go through with it.
Once settled in, the beast reveals itself with subtlety. He seems to be murmuring Foreign Legion songs, while his mind wanders to the world of travel. It 'smells' of the port of Amsterdam, the heat of Kansas and the steel foundries of the Ruhr. This bike is a world unto itself, with an atmosphere as heavy as Genesis' 'Mamma' video.
Start the engine and the twin comes to life with the cough of a drug-addicted ox. It's a rude awakening, the head pounding, the adrenalin trapped in the arteries of the injection. The strokes of the connecting rods follow one another, like the forced steps of a claustrophobic trying to get out of a tunnel with a broken leg. The pulse quickens, the rhythm settles, it's time to leave.

maybe it's the wheelbase, maybe it's the 300 kg, maybe it's the Fat Boy handlebars... whatever it is, Hogger's bike handles with restraint. A bit of highway cruising to reach the front enfilades allows you to judge the riding position. Not really ideal for cruising, but well positioned for style. Without realizing it, speed naturally settles at 90-100 km/h. Beyond that, the battle against the wind begins. But never mind the speed, it's time for the engine. A pair of more aerated pots allows the Milwaukee engine to express itself more valiantly than the castrated European-style twin. The torque is there, powerful, fat as melted cheese bathed in oil, ready to give a good slap with every downstroke of the piston. With a rev counter as calligraphic as a diesel's, this is the exact opposite of hypersport mechanics. The twin-cylinder engine takes its time getting up to speed, and doesn't like to approach the red zone. At 1,000 rpm, it already doesn't want to know it. He doesn't accelerate, he pushes; vibrating his muscles to the rhythm of his throat. With each deceleration, it backfires with dryness, spitting out a few combustion remnants with echoes of bloody metal. A crocodile with guts in the air and drool made of steel.

the gearbox is an adventure in itself. As flexible and docile as a rusty switch, it requires patience and conviction. First, grab the clutch handle, which seems to pivot in soft lead. Then, press firmly on the selector (a double-leg would often be very useful). Shifting gears is no picnic: the linkage feels like a set of wrenches. A 'schrankglll' punctuates each gear while tearing off a piece of the foot. It's virile, forbidden to fragile feet, and completely surreal if you've tried a 1200 VFR DCT with handlebar shifting a few hours before.

there's no doubt about the American bike's character. As for taming its mechanics, you might as well get used to the idea that every kilometer will have to be lived or suffered. With time and distance now flowing by with a certain placidity, everyone has understood that they have to deal with each other. So, let's take a spin around the Osprey ridges. Unsurprisingly, this custom offers neither arsouillian leaping nor voluble spontaneity, but a lightness distilled to the tempo of the twin. Don't rush it, know how to compose it, work on it gently to bring it along on the trajectory in a relaxed way. She wants to go for a walk, without taking the time to pick up pebbles, but allowing herself the leisure to do so. Metal and weight dictate their law through a certain rigidity of American history, which has become one of the symbols of today's Harley legend.
It brakes... when it wants to, with a wrestler's feel; nothing at first, then power as you grip the lever. This simple front disc is dying. Better to use the rear, which proves far more pleasant and efficient.

as the day fades away, so do my lumbar sensations. The poor rear suspension isn't really up to the task. We return to its protector who, unsurprisingly, hasn't moved position since we left. Like a block of granite embedded in the rock, he shows no emotion, although his eye seems to warn of danger as I deploy the side stand to conclude my journey. It's here that I get the last adrenalin shot, when this metal rod appears as stable as a house of cards under the mistral wind. What scares me more: getting three quintals of steel on my knee, or facing Hogger in a rage at having seen his companion fall? Fortunately, it's holding. Phew.

rebellious, ungrateful, cavernous, vibrant, from another time, another philosophy.the Dyna 1450 Low Rider "Hogger" is alive and kicking from the moment the ignition is switched on until the pistons stop firing. You can't remain insensitive, you have to experience the road and accept its point of view. A bike with a strong taste, bits that stick in your mouth, crumbs everywhere and punches on the table. Something impossible to find on a Japanese bike. After that, it's all a question of point of view, on every detail that can appear as either a flaw or an emotion.

hogger puts his leather back on and gives me a smile tinged with bitterness. He takes his place on the folding seat, cracks the twin, and drives off like a cornered buffalo. I know at that moment that something paranormal has happened, and that the eternal question will be asked for a long time to come: why?
Hogger's life has been one endless journey, where his passion for his bike has led him to ravage the roads of many countries. Far removed from the predispositions of a Pan-European or an R 1200 GS, his Low Rider nonetheless knew the frontiers of the Sahara as well as the secrets of Slovenia. To this day, I can't help thinking that Hogger has stopped somewhere, and that some people are trembling with fear. But that chapter of anguish is for the next episode...

M.B - Photos unknown

Editor's note: This test does not reflect the behavior of an original Dyna Low Rider, as this 'Hogger' model has been extensively modified by its owner. So don't generalize.