The bike’s male-slider fork is well damped and has seven- way adjustments for rebound and compression damping, and the rear dual shocks offer five-way spring preload adjustment. On smooth terrain and riding over small road imperfections the suspension feels compliant, especially the front end with its superior fork. Bumps are very noticeable in back, though, where the short shock travel jars the rider. I noticed a slight pogo effect when going over potholes; something other testers did not experience, possibly because of their heavier weight.

The belt-driven Cruise is outfitted with Bridgestone Battlax radials, a 120/70 ZR-18 front and 180/55 ZR-17 rear, which provide stability and good grip even in light rain. Some weight savings come from the hollow-cast aluminum wheels. When you get to twisty roads the Cruise is planted and stable, both in long sweepers and tight corners. It has good low-end torque and there’s no throttle abruptness when you get on it coming out of a corner. It holds a line well, and if it weren’t for the limited cornering clearance the Cruise could keep up with some sportbikes in the twisties. UM refers to the Cruise as a power or sport cruiser, and once you ride it you can relate.

The seat is not only low at 27.75 inches, it’s also narrower than the average cruiser’s seat, which should thrill riders with short inseams. With my 34-inch inseam, when the Cruise is parked on its sidestand I can walk up to the bike and literally step right over it and keep on walking. The long wheelbase of 65.4 inches makes it feel like a larger motorcycle when you climb aboard, and the reach to the handlebar is a stretch and the footpegs place your feet way out in front. But check this out: The footpegs are dealer adjustable (the shift rod needs to be changed) to one of two positions, and can be moved back approximately 2 inches from what you see pictured. The seat is comfortable enough that your butt will outlast your upper body and arms at highway speeds. As is typical on a cruiser, windblast hits the rider in the chest so you need to hang tightly to those handgrips at speed. We found that cruising below 75 mph was the best way to ride longer distances in comfort. (There’s also a touring version available with a National Cycle windscreen, three-piece Saddlemen detachable synthetic saddlebags, a backrest, a luggage rack, engine guards and floorboards.)

The Cruise gleams in the sunlight with its combination of chromed metal and plastic. Mirrors provide a good rear view, and though the triple disc brakes are not up to sportbike standards, they’re fine for cruising at more moderate speeds and we didn’t experience any fading or grabbing. The tank pivots up for easier engine service, and you’ll need a large Phillip’s screwdriver to remove the single bolt that holds down the one-piece seat. Our test bike did not come with a toolkit.

Our only complaint is with the Nintendo Game Boy-like LED digi­tal instrument panel that’s some­times hard to read in sunlight. The fuel gauge seems to have a mind of its own, as it takes anywhere from 2-5 miles after a fill-up before the bar graph registers full, and then it jumps around, so we rely on the tripmeter to figure out when to gas up. The Cruise does gets excellent average fuel economy at 45.7 mpg. The speedometer has a delayed reaction as well, though curiously that seems to be correcting itself—as is the light backfiring when coming off the throttle at highway speeds—as we put on more miles.

We can’t offer any assurances as to how the Cruise will hold up for the long haul; we can report that we’ve put almost 1,000 trouble-free miles on our test bike, and we’re impressed with its handling and rider friendli­ness. Probably the biggest challenge UM faces is convincing those who are skeptical about investing in a relatively unknown product that it’s reliable, so the company has tossed in a three-year, 15,000-mile transferable warranty. The $6,399 price tag makes it competitively priced as well. Note: The Cruise tested here is a 2007 model; for 2008 the only change will be color choices: silver, black or bur­gundy. Our test unit came with a Hyosung instrument cover; apparently, late-2007 models have a new one made by UM.

The passenger sits in a true lap of luxury, ensconced against a backrest that’s equipped with wraparound arm­rests and built-in speaker’s—the volume control is on the side. The rear seat is as comfy as the rider’s portion, and the feet are placed on fold-out footboards. It all results in a spread-out, settled-in feeling. Just note that the protruding speakers inhibit the ability to carry long items that overlap the seat, such as the tent and camp chair I carried on my weekend sojourn. Your H-D dealer will cheerfully sell you a luggage rack that attaches to the TourPak lid, but lacking that I was able to position these items toward the front of the passenger- seat where they cleared the speakers. The 63.5-inch wheelbase enhances straight-line stability on the highway, where the Ultra can thrum along with the tunes pouring from the stereo speakers and the intercom system allowing the rider to easily speak with the passenger. The full-featured cruise control holds speeds steady across hills and valleys, and can be fine tuned by nudging the thumb control.

With rake/trail figures of a relatively steep 26 degrees combined with a laid-back 6.2 inches, the Glide offers a sat­isfying blend of surprisingly light, quick steering for a 850- pound motorcycle, with stability. It becomes fun to hustle down a twisty road until it runs smack up against the bane of most Harleys—lack of cornering clearance. Way too soon the side-stand and footboards begin to drag, and cooler heads need prevail; the Glide forces the rider to remain with­in its cornering limitations or suffer the consequences. With its three four-piston brake calipers, the days of having to immediately upgrade your Harley brakes are over. Now with the addition of optional anti-lock brakes, things get even better. Head for that patch of gravel across the road, keep the bike upright and nail the brakes. You’ll feel the initial deceleration, a sudden pulsing in the brake lever and pedal as the brakes momentarily release and by contrast the bike almost seems to accelerate across the gravel patch, then immediate reapplication of the brakes and deceleration. All you need to do is maintain pressure on the brakes and the bike does the rest; ABS can save your hog’s bacon (as long as you’re upright rather than leaned over in a corner).

The FLH has an air-adjustable rear suspension, and Harley calls for no additional air pressure for a solo rider of up to 150 pounds, on up to 20-25 psi for a big rider and 200-pound passenger. Air pressure in the system acts as a spring, and the rear suspension is adequately damped. My only comment is that I wished for greater damping in the non-adjustable fork, which moved too readily for my tastes. With the 9.2:1 compression ratio you’ll run 91-octane (premium) fuel in your Big Twin. Another notable change this year is that fuel capacity has been increased from 5.0 to 6.0 gallons, yet the tank still has a clean look. The 38.4 mpg I recorded during my solo, mostly highway time on cruise control was a bit disappointing, and translates to a range of about 230 miles.

Some riders have a tendency to dismiss Harley- Davidson’s air-cooled twins as antiquated dinosaurs, as overpriced bikes that don’t measure up in terms of tech­nology. Granted, that was true a number of years ago, and today their power and smoothness do not match that of the multi-cylinder bikes. However, considering that the Ultra is a toured intended for comfort, luggage carrying and a sat­isfying ride, the new, better one reminds us not only how far Harley-Davidson has come, but that it’s still moving onward and upward.

In 1984, features such as Elastomer rubber engine mounting and fully enclosed chain final drive were recent innovations, and the 80-cubic-inch Evolution engine (the one that was to save Harley-Davidson from extinction) had just been introduced. In the intervening years the entire Harley line has gone to belt final drive and electronic fuel injection. The Electra Glide’s fairing has been improved and updated. There’s now a full sound system. The saddlebag lids are now attached and can no longer be lost, the brakes now have four-piston rather than single-piston calipers, and fairing lowers are standard on the Ultra. And in case you feared that the rate of change had slowed in recent years, for 2007 the E-Glide was given the new Cruise Drive six- speed transmission (which debuted on other models the previous year), and the Twin Cam 88-inch engine was upgraded to 96 cubic inches. This was accomplished by leaving the bore intact, but adding almost 10mm to the stroke. For 2008 fuel capacity has grown by one gallon, and various models (including the Ultra) are available with anti- lock brakes. It just goes to show that the rate of change has actually increased in recent years.

That 96-inch motor (1,584cc) offers a bore and stroke of 95.25 x 111.25mm, figures that indicate a torquey stroker rather than a revver. Sure, it’s still air-cooled and its valves are actuated by pushrods with hydraulic lifters that never need adjustment, but power has been tweaked in unex­pected ways. Two years ago when we tested the 2006 Ultra Classic its 88-inch Twin Cam motor produced 65 horsepower at 5,700 rpm on the Borla Performance dynamometer, and 67.4 lb-ft of torque at 3,800 rpm. Now, despite gaining 8 cubic inches of displacement, horsepower has actually fallen to 62.4 at 5,200 rpm, but torque is up to 77.8 lb-ft at 3,600 rpm. That’s a whopping 15 percent boost, and anyone who rides a Harley can confirm that torque is what it’s all about. Not only that, but the Ultra’s flat torque curve delivers more than 70 lb-ft from 2,000 on up to 4,400 rpm.

Hit the starter button, and after a loud whump from the starter damper the electronic sequential port fuel injection helps the engine fire up immediately…unless you were foolish enough to forget to pack the hands-free security fob that’s part of the optional Smart Security System. It’s a pas­sive key fob that must be within several feet of the bike or nothing will happen except the turn signals will simply flash at you angrily. When the fob is more than 8 feet away, the security system arms itself and disables the ignition. When the bike is disturbed, the signals flash; a siren alarm is optional. Should you lose the fob or leave it sitting in your garage when you ride off, you can arm or disarm the system by using the turn signal controls to enter a PIN number.

Even when cold the Glide can be ridden away immedi­ately without protest or hiccup. For the 2006 model year, peak clutch lever effort was reduced by 35 percent on Big Twins, and in ‘07 touring models got a new clutch cable that resulted in a further 7 percent reduction in effort. The six- speed shifts easily, quickly and with low effort with its heel­and-toe shifter. Gone are the days when one had to pause between shifts on a Harley to allow the parts to properly align.

The Ultra is a traveling machine, which is where it excels. Vibration from the single-crankpin V-twin was tamed long ago, isolated from the rider by rubber engine mounts. The seat is one of the best I’ve ever encountered in motorcy­cling, a firm base overlaid with soft padding. Typically, I start squirming around within the first 100 miles of a ride, trying to redistribute the pressure points. However, with the Ultra took a 400-mile weekend ride and it wasn’t until late in the second day that the squirming ritual began. The seat is nar­row at the front so the rider can get the feet down at a stop, and the 30.7-inch height is reasonable. Footboards are rubber mounted so that no vibration enters there; the left one is crowded a bit by the heel-and-toe shifter. The rider sits rather upright behind a full instrument panel that includes a large speedometer and tachometer, and four smaller circular gauges that keep track of fuel supply, charging rate, oil pressure and ambient air temperature. As for entertainment, the Ultra includes a Harman/Kardon 80-watt audio system with AM/FM radio, weatherband, CB, intercom, four speakers, and there’s a power outlet for electric clothing and such. A dizzying list of audio options includes XM Radio, Bluetooth, GPS and a CD changer.

A major factor in pleasant touring is wind protection, and while that classic fairing deflects the wind it also allows a significant amount of buffeting to the rider’s helmet. You won’t be able to hear much of that wonderful audio system at speed unless you utilize helmets with speaker headsets. The Ultra Classic comes standard with a pair of lowers, leg protectors that include a small storage bin under each snap- on cover that can hold a pair of winter gloves. Each lower also incorporates a curved plastic panel that stows inside. On a cold day the rider can squat in front of the bike and rotate these panels outward on their tracks to block the wind. On warmer days they can be rotated back behind the lowers to allow for more airflow, a good thing since the larger engine now puts out more heat, especially from the rear cylinder exhaust pipe on the right. Likewise, tinted wind deflectors at the edges of the fairing can be rotated inward on warm days to direct airflow to the rider’s body. Both of these comfort items are quite effective.

This latest rendition, the Breva 1200 Sport, is proof of that, as we found out during its Arizona introduction last September. Guzzi’s 703cc V7 first appeared back in 1967, and though there is certainly nothing interchangeable with the 1200 Sport’s 1,151cc version, it remains that essential push-rod twin. The 1200 uses the same engine as is bolted into the Norge (and the Breva 1200 not exported to the United States), with an oversquare bore of 95mm; stroke, 81.2mm; stampeding some 70-plus horses at 7,500 rpm. This engine is not really a low-rpm lugger, as it thrives on modest revs, with the maximum torque of about 60 lb-ft coming on at 6,000 rpm.

The headlight comes with a sporty little cowling, giving it a semblance of aerodynamic—this is not a top-speed machine, but one intended for happy speeds. At the bottom of the engine is a chin spoiler, aesthetically pleasing and also functional as it serves to protect the oil cooler.

The footpegs are slightly rear-set, and when the rider sits down (seat height is a shade over 31 inches, and a slightly lower saddle is an option), it is a long reach over the large six-gallon gas tank to the “advanced” handlebar —that is Guzzi’s word to describe the rather wide (almost 33 inches) solid-mounted Renthal bar, which suited my long torso and arms quite well. Those with a shorter reach might scant to loosen the mounting bolts and turn the bar back 90 degrees. Two controls at the left end of the bar operate the computer on the dash, telling the rider most things that he might want to know, except which stock to buy.

The Marzocchi male-slip fork, 45mm in diameter, is adjustable for spring preload, compression and rebound damping, and has 4.7 inches of travel. The rake is 25 degrees;  trail, 4.7 inches. The fork has been coated with an anti-friction compound called Tinalox. The Sachs shock absorber has preload and rebound adjustability, the rear wheel having 5.5 inches of movement.

Wheels are 17 inches, with a 120/70 tire on the front, 180/55 on the rear. The 320mm front discs use Brembo four-piston (opposed) calipers, the rear 298mm disc has a two-piston (parallel) caliper. ABS is an /option for the Europeans, but not for Americans, as Moto Guzzi research shows that most sporting riders in this country are not interested in it.

The engine sits in a tubular-steel cradle frame, with 58.5 inches between the axles. The transmission has six speeds, with shaft final drive. Dry weight is said to be 506 pounds.

Turn the e key, push the button, fuel is injected, two spark plugs in each cylinder fire the mixture, and the engine begins its leisurely side-to-side sway, so common with the longitudinal twins. Clutch in, first gear engaged, clutch released, and I am smoothly away. I like the ergonomics and the wide: bar, making the Sport easy e, to maneuver out of the parking lot, and the saddle g, suits my butt. We settle in for some 80-mph freeway cruising out to Apache Junction, east of Phoenix, and then head off to the Apache Trail in the Tonto National Forest. Not that there is much forest out here, just rock and dirt and cactus.

I do enjoy that loping gait which all Guzzis have, not a frenetic rush to power that one feels in many higher-rewing machines. A slight vibration comes through the bar and pegs, allowing the rider to keep his or her eyes on the road, rather than the tachometer. Which, on the Sport, has no painted redline, merely a red light on the face that blinks as the engine speed approaches the rev limiter, more easily noticed on a frolicsome ride than having to focus on the needle. The Apache Trail is a superb road, two lanes of good pavement going up and down and around for many blissful miles, good Sport territory; endlessly clicking the shift lever through the gears, braking, throttling up, slowing, accelerating. The transmission is excellent, as are the brakes, and the ECU for the injectors seems right on, with no hesitations nor hiccups. The Sport seems very happy with my keeping the tach between five and seven thousand, and is intended for the leisurely rider, like myself, who likes a bit of lean, adequate power and comfort. I’m having fiin without being crouched over and bent like a pretzel.

This was an all-too-short intro, as usual, and we hope to get a proper test machine, with all the optional touring accessories like saddlebags and heated grips, in the future. Already I would say that, having ridden many Guzzi models over the past 40 years, this has a fine engine and a fine chassis. Now Guzzi has to let the riding public know about it.