The Spark: Yeah, a Harley Supermoto, Why Not?
So, picture this: me, in my garage, staring at my trusty old Harley. It’s a solid machine, no doubt, rumbles just right, pure American iron. But, and it’s a big but, I was getting this itch. I kept seeing these supermoto bikes, all light and flickable, just tearing up the corners. And then this totally off-the-wall idea popped into my head: what if I tried to make my Harley… well, more like that? A supermoto Harley. Sounds nuts, right? That’s kinda why I had to try it.
Getting My Hands Dirty: The “What Was I Thinking?” Phase
First thing I did was just strip the Harley down. Took off the saddlebags, the windshield, all the chrome bits that screamed “cruiser.” I wanted to see the bones of it. Man, there’s a lot of bike under all that stuff. My initial plan was pretty loose, not gonna lie. I knew I needed different wheels, better suspension, and to shed a metric ton of weight. Easier said than done with a Harley, let me tell ya.
I spent a good chunk of time just measuring things, looking at how other supermotos were set up, and then looking back at this V-twin monster in my garage. It was a lot of head-scratching.
- Wheels: Definitely needed 17-inchers. Laced, if possible, for that supermoto look.
- Suspension: This was gonna be the tricky part. Stock Harley suspension is, well, built for comfort, not for speed in the twisties.
- Brakes: If I’m gonna make it go faster around corners, I need it to stop faster too.
- Weight: Lose as much as humanly possible. Every bolt, every bracket was under scrutiny.
The Actual Work: Grinding, Welding, and Lots of Coffee
Finding parts was an adventure in itself. You can’t just buy a “Harley Supermoto Kit.” So, I started hunting. For the wheels, I ended up finding a company that could lace some 17-inch rims to hubs that would fit. That wasn’t cheap, let me tell you. Then came the suspension. I looked at adapting forks from a sportbike, or even a dirt bike. This meant a lot of research into fork diameters, axle sizes, and brake caliper mounts. I ended up having to get some custom triple clamps machined to make it all fit. That was a learning curve, for sure. My angle grinder and welder became my best friends during this period.
For the rear, I managed to find some longer, more performance-oriented shocks. Getting the stance right took a few tries, adjusting preload and sag. It’s not like there’s a manual for this stuff. You just gotta try things, see what works, and what definitely doesn’t. I ditched the big, heavy stock exhaust for something lighter and way louder. Probably annoyed the neighbors, but hey, project bike, right?
Making it Look the Part (Sort Of)
Once the core mechanicals were starting to come together, I thought about the aesthetics. I chopped the rear fender, went for a super minimal solo seat, and swapped out the big handlebars for some wider, flatter tracker bars. It started to look less like a traditional Harley and more like… well, something else. Something meaner. It was definitely a Frankenstein’s monster of a bike, but it was my Frankenstein. Wiring was another beast; I tried to simplify it as much as possible, tucking everything away neatly.
The Moment of Truth: First Ride Jitters
After what felt like an eternity of late nights, busted knuckles, and moments where I seriously considered just pushing the whole thing into a dumpster, it was finally time. I rolled it out, checked everything one last time, and hit the starter. That V-twin roared to life, but it sounded different through the new exhaust, angrier. I’m not gonna lie, I was pretty nervous.
That first ride was wild. It was still undeniably a Harley – you can’t hide that engine character or the weight entirely. But man, it turned! It actually leaned into corners with way more confidence than before. The upgraded brakes hauled it down much better. It was still a heavy beast compared to a “real” supermoto, but it was so much more agile and responsive than it used to be. It was a blast! A slightly terrifying, incredibly satisfying blast.
What I Reckon Now
Looking back, it was a massive undertaking. More work than I initially bargained for, that’s for sure. There were times I was properly stumped. But figuring out those problems, making parts fit that weren’t supposed to, that was the fun of it. It’s not the prettiest bike, and it’s definitely not the most practical, but I built it. Every time I take it out, it puts a massive grin on my face. It’s a unique machine, and it taught me a hell of a lot about what’s possible if you’re willing to just get stuck in and try. Would I do it again? You bet. Maybe a different base bike next time, though!
