The design lines were beyond gorgeous, the chrome's luster was brighter than anything else in the showroom. The forks were this monstrous mutant-like high quality complex masterpiece of function.
I crawled around the bike and gently checked the fitment of parts, looked at the welds on the frame (I am now a welding inspector and instructor) checked the quality around edges of the fenders, and the paint underneath.
Everything about the bike punched you in the face with attention to detail, and every piece, line and curve seemed to just be a symphony of collective perfection. Comparing it to any of the other brand new bikes on the floor was ridiculous.
Before the E-H Super x, I really liked the Harley Springer models. After the Super X I never looked at them the same again.
Everyone wanted to test ride this new bike with a 17,000 price tag. I never dared ask, I was an 18 year old kid, but the owner insisted.
My first impression watching that bike rumble like an earthquake intimidated me. As soon as I got to 2 mph the rumble turned to glass, and the balance was amazing.
In that first 10 feet my heart was beating like crazy, I was almost the most nervous I had ever been in my life, and I had the epiphany that this was the ultimate motorcycle on the face of the earth. I only rode the bike around the block a few times, but came back shaking and breathless. My dad had a Heritage Softtail with all the trimmings, and I never once got that sensation riding that. I had also ridden a really nice Yamaha Royal Star that failed to deliver a euphoria like the EH.
The last ten years had been spent building my career, and thoughts of owning my very own were always on the back burner. There are a few other bikes I might like to own, keep, and ride, but the Super X was always the Big Baddie.
