Indian Roadmaster cruises around our taxing test route
Is Indian’s new Roadmaster now the last word in American V-twin touring luxury?
It is hard not to be impressed by the Indian Roadmaster. This is a machine so visually striking that during every ride you end up talking to someone about it, explaining what it is (yes, Indian, as in the film) and then discussing the beautiful stitching on its seat, the cool illuminated Chieftain head on the mudguard or its eardrum-battering sound system. But by the same token it’s also a physically imposing bike, especially when you try to get it in and out of your garage. I’m over six feet tall and more than used to manhandling bikes, but manoeuvring 422kg of Roadmaster at low speed is still a herculean task, especially
on an uneven surface or if you have a gravel drive. You quickly learn to put both feet down when you come to a halt for added security, and as I paddle backwards out of my garage I wonder why Indian haven’t added a reverse gear as part of the latest update. Honda have been doing it for years on the Gold Wing and so have BMW on some of their biggest tourers. It’s an opportunity missed and I leave home hoping I won’t have to back it up on the MCN250. With the bike filled up with fuel at Oundle (taking our combined weight to over half a ton), we are ready to rock; quite literally! What is it about a bike with a stereo that instantly makes you feel the need to broadcast your musical taste to all within earshot? Sadly, my iPhone decides to have some fun at my expense and as I start the bike my apparent love of the disco classic Night Fever is revealed to all. A frantic prod of the mute and in silence I change my playlist via the switchgear (which gives you access to your all of your albums etc if you are plugged in via the USB port) and I leave with something a bit cooler rousing any Oundle inhabitants attempting a peaceful lie-in. Onto the A605 and the Indian instantly feels as if it has shed half of its weight. Like walruses on land, big cruisers are only ungainly when they are moving at sub-walking pace and once up to speed they feel far more fluid and engaging. Bulk becomes stability as you melt into the sumptuous comfort of the seat and go with the flow as the V-twin’s gentle pulses whisk you along and the stereo helps alleviate any boredom.
The Thunder Stroke 111 motor is an absolute beauty of a power plant. Updated for 2018 with three (unnecessary) power modes, it is so relaxed it is bordering on the horizontal and perfectly suits the Roadmaster’s outlook on life. A mountain of peak torque is delivered at just 2100rpm and despite being a massive 1811cc V-twin, it is super-smooth and vibe-free. You can just stick it in top and relax as the thump-thump (not a potatopotato soundtrack, I hasten to add) of the surprisingly loud exhaust lets you know it is running. Aside from the gearbox, which has all the refinement of a 1950s tractor as the cogs engage with a thump,
it’s wonderful. When it comes to demolishing straight lines, few bikes can tick off the miles with such ease. But the UK is a bit smaller than America and that means traffic... and corners.
I was concerned that I’d spend much of the MCN250 stuck in lines of traffic as the Roadmaster’s size would prevent filtering. However, in and around Northampton the wide dual carriageways meant that there was more than enough room between the lines of cars to slip through. Thanks to the motor’s low centre of gravity and the short stretch to the bars, the Roadmaster is remarkably balanced at low speed, making filtering easy, and drivers certainly see (and/or hear) it approaching. You need to be aware if its width, but it is in no way cumbersome at slower speeds and the clutch is smooth and fairly light. I wouldn’t choose to ride the Indian in traffic, but it is certainly happy to deal with it should the need occur. It is out on the open road that the Roadmaster truly excels. Most riders see big cruisers and assume they don’t handle, but this really isn’t the case here. Despite the damp conditions, once we’re away from Northampton and onto the twisty roads that lead to the M40, the Roadmaster demonstrates its sporty chassis.
Thanks to pleasingly firm suspension the Indian can be enjoyed on smooth bends and rolls through them at pace with surprising composure. It gets a bit choppy on smaller, bumpy roads such as the cut-through from the A5 to Silverstone, but on the
‘A firm ride means it can be enjoyed through bends ’
well-surfaced run towards Banbury it was a joy. Although pulling out of wet junctions did reveal a major annoyance.
I’m sick of having this argument with American cruiser firms,
‘Both the heated grips and banging stereo go up to 11’
but (like Harleys) the Indian lacks traction control. The manufacturers claim owners don’t want it, but the combination of solid Dunlop Elite 3 tyres, huge torque very low in the rev range and cold wet roads saw me have more than one spinningup moment. Can we focus some development time on European buyers who do ride in the wet and cold and at the very minimum add some kind of anti-spin system? Even if it is only active in first gear. During the whole MCN250 I was nervous about the Roadmaster’s rear when accelerating in first and I’m amazed this has been overlooked; especially when you’re spending the best part of £26k on a premium bike. Moving on, and despite the driving rain, it was impossible not to enjoy riding the Roadmaster. I know the old ‘why not buy a car?’ comment will be aimed at it from some quarters, but this misses the point of big cruisers. Size brings with it luxurious comfort for both rider and pillion, a banging sound system and a presence that few bikes can match. Sure, there are downsides; you will sometimes get stuck in traffic when negotiating narrow roads such as those that lead through small Cotswold villages, the occasional low-speed drop will happen due to the Indian’s sheer weight and the initial price tag is fairly terrifying. The Roadmaster has lot of positives, though. There really is no easier way to tour on two wheels and having finished the MCN250, despite the rain, I could happily have turned around and done it again. It’s fast enough, handles well and is oh-so comfy. And it can be fun.