Harley Davidson FXWG Wide Glide

Make Model	Harley Davidson FXWG Wide Glide
Year	1980
Engine	Four stroke, 45° V-Twin, OHV, 2 valves per cylinder.
Capacity	1337 cc / 81.5 cu-in
Bore x Stroke	88.8 x 108 mm
Cooling System	Air cooled
Compression Ratio	7.4:1
Induction	38mm Keihin carburetor
Ignition	Analogue CDI
Starting	Electric
Max Power	67 hp @ 5800 rpm
Max Torque	69 ft-lb @ 3000 rpm
Clutch	Wet 9-plate
Transmission	4 Speed
Final Drive	Chain
Front Suspension	Telescopic forks
Rear Suspension	Swinging fork.
Front Brakes	2x 292mm disc
Rear Brakes	Single 255mm disc
Front Tyre	MJ 90-19
Rear Tyre	MT 90-16
Wet Weight	278 kg / 612.8 lbs
Fuel Capacity	12.5 Litres / 3.3 US gal

Harley FXB STURGIS and FXWG WIDE GLIDE Review

LOOK AT A HARLEY AND SEE THE refleotion of America. Travel the world and come home again and you will know America in three letters: big. In the beginning settlers came to this nearly empty continent in which they found material and space, incredible abundance within three million square miles and more. For three hundred years Americans believed something more important than Bigger is Better. Simply put: Bigger is Normal.
Most of the twentieth century lies now behind us, and the doorway to the twenty-first century, visible ahead, looms in a different scale. Smaller is Normal. Already we have begun to adjust ourselves to that doorway.

Don't expect new yardsticks to measure the Sturgis and Wide Glide. These 80-cubic-inchers violate the conventions now held sacrosanct in the engineering drawing rooms beyond the Atlantic and Pacific: minimum weight, compact size, high power-to-weight, simple efficiency. Efficiency: to wring all excess from space and material. Someday on the western shore of Lake Michigan efficiency will win, the doorway will be better engineered, and the entrance less grand.
Eighty-cubic-inch Harleys, with engineering traditions a half-century long, are many things. But most of all, the Sturgis and Wide Glide are grand.

These motorcycles belong to the first definition of grand: imposing in size and appearance and general effect. Beyond that, the motorcycles are grandiose in the second definition of that word: affectedly grand and pompous. Be it known that before a thing can be grand and grandiose in our 300-year American tradition, it must first be big. And in this test the Sturgis and Wide Glide do not fail.

Their proportions are gigantic. The wheelbases of the Sturgis and Wide Glide stretch out to 64 and 65 inches. On the scales, the Wide Glide registers 633 pounds fully wet; the Sturgis checks in at 609 pounds. Given its relatively modest drag bar, narrow tank and a seat 27 inches away from the ground, the Sturgis seems much smaller than it actually is. The Wide Glide, with its expansive saddle-tank, impresses the rider as unmistakably wide. His legs row forward to the pegs and his knees catch the tank midships on the sides. Having settled into place on the Wide Glide, the rider, once pocketed in the seat and in touch with the pegs, needs real missionary reach for the bar. Sturgis or Wide Glide, a glance around reveals how much space a Harley-Davidson Big Twin controls.

The space available has much to do with the way in which Milwaukee has packaged 80 cubic inches of engine displacement. An alternative layout might take those 80 inches,divide the sum into four, and squeeze the displacement into the smallest block possible. The FX engines obey an empty-continent convention; the space is there, so use it. Harley-Davidson arranged the displacement by tradition; into a narrow-angle Vee-forma-tion that results in two free-standing,

individual cylinders of 40 cubic inches each. Front to back across the cylinders measures about 20 inches; and while the basic engine crankcases are small, the downstairs portion of the FX unit spans almost two feet. Harley-Davidsons carry all this length longitudinally in their frames, and by iron-clad consequence, the motorcycles are long. Still, neither the engines nor the motorcycles model their size in disguise. They are what they are: big—without apologies, built for those who believe Bigger is Normal.

For decades Americans have associated quality with size, quality with weight. Before reliable metallurgy and sophisticated engineering, mechanical things got better through break-and-fix technology. When a part broke, it was replaced with a bigger and stronger piece; then the builders waited to see what in the chain of mechanical things would break next, and then fixed that. When at last nothing further broke, the manufacturer pronounced the product reliable, at which point the mechanism was usually big and heavy. On size and weight Harley-Davidsons look and feel unbreakable; they play on that persistent belief that things which weigh more are stronger and therefore last longer.

In one sphere or another, that belief seems self-evident to many Americans; and none of us is totally immune from it. Did you ever wonder why homebuilders try to use the heaviest front door practicable on a new house? Did you ever buy one 12-ounce bottle of shampoo instead of a second because the first one came in a slightly larger and heavier bottle? Did you ever buy one children's toy instead of another because the first felt heavier and therefore more substantial? Did you ever watch a smoker make the choice between two ashtrays, one lightweight glass, the other heavy brass? Would you be surprised that most smokers generally use the latter? In a hundred ways, every day, consciously or unconsciously, rightly or wrongly, Americans make that connection between weight, size and quality. Not in everything they do or every product they buy, but enough times to make the connection a powerful one.

Eighty cubic inches strung out fore-to-aft would make any engine dominate the visual part of the whole; Harley-David-sons have no trouble in keeping the first part in motorcycle preeminent even though the bike is eight feet long.

It's hard to think of these motorcycles as the FXB and FXWG; the shorthand nomenclature seems fit for parts, yet somehow misses the grander sum. Americans may commute in Datsun B210s, but when's the last time you rode in a Series 62 Cadillac? The Germans, always big on digits, have succeeded in creating an AuslSnder snob appeal based on numbers; to wit, the BMW 733i; owners probably value these prestige numbers as handy reminders of the size of their monthly payments. Harley-Davidsons wear their identity tags, long and proud: Hydra-Glide, Duo Glide, Electra Glide, Sportster,Wide Glide and Low Rider.This kind of identity the Japanese have begun to pursue consciously with their products; the Yamaha XJ650 by any other name is the Maxim I.
Refined and filigreed, homogenized and pureed, the Sturgis and Wide Glide beneath their trappings remain Milwaukee

Big Twins. Excepting the Sturgis' belt drive (See Cycle, May 1980), the FXB and FXWG share bare essentials: engine, frame, brakes, shocks and swing arms. To be sure, the motorcycles look radically different, and each comes out of a distinct in-house pedigree; the Sturgis from the Super Glide side of the family, the Wide Glide from Electra Glide (FLH) lineage. Nonetheless, all branches run back to the Big Twin trunk.

Central to the Sturgis and Wide Glide is the 80-cubic-inch narrow-angle V-twin, the 3.50-inch pistons which travel through 4.25-inch strokes. Low compression, thank you: 7.4 to 1. The 38mm carburetor is as modern as Japanese technology can make it, and the electronic, breakerless ignition represents another step toward now-generation engineering. The separate transmission case houses four speeds, and four suffice nicely.

Belt drives aside, internal specifications are ditto. It's the external specifications that turn left and right at the styling studios. The same 80-cubic-inch engine merely provides a metal sculpture background for detailing differences. Motorcyclists don't normally think of engines with individual trim options, but for all purposes, Harley-Davidson offers just that: black cylinders here, aluminum ones there; chrome covers one place, black counterparts the other; acorn nuts on one model, hex-heads on the other; the variations continue through air-cleaner covers, ignition wires, and so on.

The actual steering-head angle of both the Sturgis and the Wide Glide is the same time-honored 30 degrees. But to points forward the Wide Glide gets positively radical for a motorcycle that a major manufacturer builds. The Glider's front end rakes out to 33 degrees with five inches of trail; by comparison the Sturgis has 31.4 degrees of rake and almost five inches of trail. Re-angled line-boring of the triple clamps accounts for these differences. Since the Wide Glide sprang from Electra Glide stock, the FXWG front end is a stylized, amplified FLH assembly. Harley-Davidson cleaned up the sliders and tailored them to the Wide Glide's fender; into these sliders fit fork tubes which are longer than standard FLH issue.

The buckhorn bar carried on risers spans a modest 28 inches; were it not for the relatively narrow 84 ribbed front tire, the Wide Glide might need a tattooed Godzilla at the tiller in order to turn. Only apparently. By the customizer's book of specs, the Wide Glide's front end rake is positively conservative, so a degree from Muscle College isn't a prerequisite to riding the FXWG. In fact, the Wide Glide's way-rad look is more visual than real.

The spoked 21-inch wheel creates the illusion of front-end height and longitudinal stretch.
Lined up against the Wide Glide, the Sturgis looks like a pin-striped Orange County Republican. How ironic: the Sturgis' progenitor, the 1971 Super Glide, shocked nearly everyone at its introduction. It was outrageously left-wing for Milwaukee. That should tell the more observant something important. Presently Harley-Davidson alone has 10 years' experience with motorcyclists' sensitivity to high-fashion hardware.

The comings and goings of the original Super Glide dual tank illustrates that proposition perfectly.
First an historical note.Very early motorcycles carried their gas tanks inside the perimeter of two main frame tubes, which ran back from the top and bottom of the steering neck and joined below the saddle. In the 1930s, saddle tanks became popular; they draped over the frame members, covering the skeletal ugliness. This layout often had separate left-right gas tanks, together with an oil tank in one side or the other. When progress (recirculating oiling systems with engine-driven pumps) moved the oil compartments out of the topside tanks, additional space opened for gasoline. With the passage of time, most manufacturers simply built unitary saddle tanks.

On to 1971. Harley-Davidson's new Super Glide sported a neo-classic 3.5-gallon dual tank. Buyers thought these tanks with their in-tank tachometer-speedometer pods were funky-dumb rather than funky-neat. So in 1973 the Super Glide got a unitary tank, and the instruments took a hike to the handlebar.

So much for the perilous ride on the blustery winds of fashion. End of the high-style segregated 3.5-gallon dual tank, known in some circles as the Bob tank. Right? Wrong. Along comes the 1977 Low Rider and the Bob tank is back in cruiser vogue. What was out in 1973 was back in five years later. More time passes: the Bob-and-a-half tank (5.0 gallons, get it?) off the FLH series becomes available on the basic cruiser bike. With extended front end, presto, you get the Wide Glide.

The fun doesn't end quite yet. Don't think that the Harley-Davidson Fat Bob (FXEF) has the Bob-and-a-half tank; it doesn't. Basically a Super Glide with a Bob tank, the Fat Bob begins to sound pretty close in concept to the original 1971 Super Glide. Not to worry; tastes change. So Harley-Davidson gives its clientele choice. Want to radicalize your Bob-point-five tank? For a couple hundred bucks, the Glider tank gets hand-painted flames. Perish the word decals.

Aft of the tanks, the Sturgis and Wide Glide go their separate ways. The Glider has its final-drive chain, wire-spoke wheel, bobbed and curled rear fender, and a license-plate bracket held over from—of all things—Harley-Davidson's XLCR Cafe Racer! Meanwhile, back in the Sturgis, the cast rear wheel turns under a very straight-laced, conservative rear fender. Although the saddles look the same, they're not; close, but different.
What does it all mean? Harley-Davidson manufactures a kind of mass-produced individuality. Of course that's a contradiction; it's also characteristically American: mass production to make goods widely available, and options to individualize the goods and soften their production-line origins. Harley hasn't built motorcycles to individual orders submitted by dealers for years; nevertheless, today there are five variations (Super Glide, Fat Bob, Wide Glide, Low Rider, Sturgis) on the basic cruiser 80, and the trimmings and details and forms constitute basic option groups. Never has a company been so successful in presenting a fundamental motorcycle in so many ways. •

The proportions and dimensions of these 80-inchers make an individual statement in a downsizing world. Other machines may appeal to the individualist through exclusivity based solely on scarcity; Harley-Davidson appeals with size and looks. Those in Milwaukee and elsewhere know that the look and the size are subtly and irrevocably tied together. The Wide Glide places foot controls and pegs inches ahead, not behind, the grips of the buckhorn bar. To violate accepted canons of control/space relationships would normally be unthinkable; only the size of the motorcycle makes these placements visually successful and at least functionally conscious.

To ride the Wide Glide is to realize the license size permits. The motorcycle is big enough so that the human body can be repositioned within its confines. In a curious body exercise for six-footers, the rider's legs push gently against the pegs; this in turn presses the rider's backside against and along the seat's rise; doing this bends the body at the waist and inclines the torso forward, letting hands meet the grips naturally and arms bend slightly at the elbows. Short riders probably couldn't get squared-away on the Wide Glide because the seat rise would be too far aft for them, but riders with Wide Glide dimensions can use peg-leg-seat pressure to cant their torsos forward into the airstream.

The foot controls themselves, however, never stop feeling awkWard because the rider can't use the brake lever or rocker-shifter decisively and comfortably without reaching for the controls with his feet; and after a while in city traffic his back will think it's still in gym class, doing leg lifts. That alone tells you why the forward-mounts are called highway pegs; on the open road our staffer with a spiral backbone rode the Glider for 75 miles, without his Gold Belt or ill effects. We preferred cruising the Wide Glide to riding the Sturgis and using its highway pegs, which are a moment away from the real pegs and their foot controls. Years of test riding leads to a preference for instant access to gearshift and rear-brake control levers.

The operation of the front brakes of both 80-inchers fortified this desire. The power of the front brakes underwhelmed us, in part because the grip strength necessary to get really effective front-braking overwhelmed us. As a consequence, we used FX rear brakes with greater frequency and determination than normal, a situation that kept our right boots close to the rear-brake foot levers. Just how much more easy-squeeze braking force riders would want, especially in the wet, at the Wide Glide's narrow front tire remains an open question; the Sturgis, on the other hand, has enough rubber to warrant real front-brake superpower.
Understand that Harley-Davidsons don't fit those performance doorways through which products designed afresh 24 months ago can pass: braking, vibration control, suspension compliance, ride adjustability, and so on.

These Harleys do not compute in a road-tester's notebook, which asks how they compare to most up-to-date technology available. Yet '49 Buick Dynaflow convertibles may be out of step in a world coming to Rabbits and Civics and B210s; still those changes make milestone convertibles no less appealing on a visceral level. Big V-twin Harleys and those rag tops may slip out of date, but so long as Americans believe in grandeur, these things will never quite go out of style. Only a Harley-Davidson can be a genuine American motorcycle; the company came with the territory. If you study America, you'll know this country is moving toward a re-industrialization in which totally re-engineered products will fit smaller doorways, differently shaped. But for now these Harley-Davidsons stand as grand symbols for an age in passing. ®