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Issue link: https://magazine.cyclenews.com/i/128208
(Left) Riding Bruce Chubbuck's 1936 EL was both a unique and a familiar experience. (Above) The foot clutch takes a little getting used to but wasn't all that difficult to operate. (Leftl The handshifter isn't the only item that dates the EL. The left handgrip also rotates to retard the spark for easier kickstarting. (Below) Hariey's 1000cc Knucklehead turned the technological tables on rival Indian and set the new standard for future H-D engine designs. tion advance by rotating the left hand grip away. At first, we were greeted by a few chuffs of smoke back through the air cleaner when the 60odd-year-old mill tried to cough its way to life. But then it did fire up, taking little time before settling into the familiar V-twin lope that made Milwaukee famous. The old machine sounded good, real good, and although I had never sat on its tractor pan seat before, it somehow greeted me like an old friend. Getting under way on the EL is a different experience altogether, as the roles on the left side of your body are reversed. First off, ignore that lever in front of the left handgrip - it's for the front brake. On this 01' girl, disengaging the clutch requires that you place your foot on the clutch pedal perched just above the left footboard and then ratchet your heel down and aft. Only then is it safe to snick the tankmounted shift lever forward of neutral to grab first gear. Catch a few revs as you slowly rotate your left foot forward, and the EL smoothly glides forward. I took a few minutes to idle around in first gear and then practiced a few stop-and-go maneuvers before Chubbuck encouraged me to really row it through the gears when I headed off on the three-mile ride around the outskirts of the Rose Bowl grounds. And that's when the magic of this particular machine really revealed itself. First of all, put away any myth that the Knucklehead is an obsolete powerplant when compared to the muchheralded Evolution and Twin Cam 88 Big Twins. While both have benefited from improvements in engineering and metallurgy, the Knucklehead more than matches their vibe. Its performance was nothing short of amazing, producing clean, crisp torque over a broader rpm range than I would have expected. Whacking the Owner Bruce Chubbuck (left) schools CN Managing Editor Scott Rousseau on the finer points of shifting the EL by hand. throttle released more of that beautifully familiar V-twin aural pleasure, and the more stick I gave it, the better it sounded. Mind you, I was respectful of the old girl, even though Chubbuck told me that I could "rev it to the moon.' In fourth gear, the machine felt like it was barely ticking over at 55 mph. In stock trim, the EL has about 95 mph on tap. But Chubbuck has this one geared for 112 mph! I'd bet that it would see every bit of that in the hands of someone brave enough to try. Not that there appears to be anything inherently dangerous about riding the hardtail EL around at freeway speeds, so long as you're sure to leave plenty of room between yourself and any motor vehicle built in the past 50 years. Aside from the slightly awkward feeling from the rotation of the left handgrip, the EL proved to be extremely road worthy on the fly. The inline hand shifter is easy to get acquainted with, the trick being that you'll want to locate each detent under the shift plate with your pinky finger and be careful to pull the lever precisely back to that point in order to avoid a false neutral. Steering is light and precise, and the machine changes direction rather nimbly. The EL's springer fork and plungerdamped tractor pan seat amply quell road vibrations, with, perhaps, a bit more rebound than some riders might like. It's not all-day comfortable like a modern FL might be, but it is comfortable enough to ride, say, from Pasadena to San Diego - a thought that I had to constantly reject, lest the musing unconsciously turn into reality. As with most vintage motorcycles, however, reality bites in the form of anachronistic brakes, and the EL is no different in this regard. Some 75 percent of modern motorcycle braking is accomplished through the front cycle brake. Clamp the EL's left-mounted lever to the bar, and drag both feet, and you'll likely come within about eight percent of that. The rear brake, on the other hand, feels overly touchy and is capable of skidding the back wheel, which doesn't help slow you down a whole lot either. If there's a conclusion to be drawn, then it is this: You're left wondering what life might be like in a world with no red lights or stop signs. We should all be so lucky, because while riding a 1936 Harley- Davidson EL might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for many, the magic of riding this Harley-Davidson is the same as that of riding any other Harley-Davidson - if that's what you're into. Be it a Flathead, Knucklehead or Panhead, Shovel, Evo, Twin Cam or that liquid-cooled Revver' in the V-Rod, all Harley-Davidson models seem to be bound together by 100 years of motorcycling heritage, each sharing, in the spirit of its predecessor, a joy for the open road. Their song remains the same. eN n e _ S • APRIL 9, 2003 39