I need to be completely honest about something before getting underway with this. When I initially contacted Harley about trying some Motor Company metal, this 2025 Harley-Davidson Fat Boy is all I had in mind. I’m a relatively new rider, I had never ridden a cruiser at all let alone a Harley, and most importantly, I’ve never had a particular affinity for them. I’m glad I tried ride the Street Glide and Pan America first—they’re terrific bikes, but they were just primers for the full-fat Fat Boy. I never really got the whole Harley thing, but I do now.
You’ll often hear Harley people have always been Harley people. They grew up with a reverence of these mighty iron horses, they always wanted one, and they always knew they were going to have at least one. I am not a Harley person, but I think understand the Harley people now. It’s not unlike the Jeep thing that I’m not supposed to understand, where they’re deliberately compromised as a vehicle in pursuit of a vibe. In this modern era where truth isn’t true and facts are flimsy, vibes are the only thing carrying us forward—and holy cow, does this Fat Boy got vibes in spades.
More numbers, more vibes
The source of these literal vibes is a new and updated Milwaukee Eight 117 engine. It produces 104 horsepower at 4,800 rpm and 126 pound-feet of torque at 3,000 rpm, thanks to new heads with reshaped combustion chambers, plus a revised intake and exhaust. More important than just those numbers is the addition of greater electronic control over the engine which manifests in a few key fronts.
First, the 117 has variable valve timing, which results in an engine that feels stronger more of the time. It produces more power throughout more of its rev range, leading to much greater real-world performance gains than the peak numbers convey. Second, the engine has much smarter throttle control, and with it comes modern niceties like traction control and drag-torque slip control. This helps prevent newbies like me from being overwhelmed by the 117’s stump-pulling might, whether going or slowing.
Lastly, that same greater throttle control means the introduction of ride modes, as seen on other, less willfully anachronistic Harleys. You get rain, road, and sport modes, with road and sport feeling very close together. Harley-Davidson really wants to nail home the point that the Fat Boy is supposed to feel like a tough, mighty machine, and it’s noticeably edgier than Street Glide with the same engine in its normal road mode. If you do get caught in the rain, it’ll smooth the edges off and look out for you.
Big engine, big wheels, big vibes
Beyond that, the Fat Boy is still very much a living fossil, a well-executed restomod of a classic, but a classic formula first and foremost. While it may have a smarter engine than before, it’s little more than a big engine between a pair of bigger wheels, and not much else. It has no storage. No TFT display. No Bluetooth connectivity. Zero wind protection. And it’s all the better for it.
I got off the impressively refined Pan America immediately took a seat on this. The first ride was pure comedy, like transitioning from a brand-new Escalade to a classic Fleetwood lead sled. You sit so low that the Fat Boy’s fat, 694-pound weight doesn’t feel like it’s going to be a problem, with your feet firmly planted on the ground. There’s nothing in front of you, save for a medusa of chrome as the stern-browed headlight cowl, handlebars, and top plate are all covered in the shiny stuff. There’s a single five-inch analog speedometer gauge nestled low on the gas tank, with a rudimentary LCD display for the odometer, trip, fuel range, and a numeral tach. One at a time, of course; this isn’t a touring bike with a TV in the handlebars.
Before you’ve even fired it up, the Fat Boy sets a pretty clear tone. The big 117 fires to life with a signature barrel-chested grumble, and quickly settles into something almost resembling a smooth idle. There’s no need to worry about the march of progress taking away the single-crank-pin literal vibes Harley is known for. The clutch is a modern slipper clutch, but it’s relatively heavy and grabby, made semi-friendly only by the sheer rotating mass of the engine behind it. It kicks into first with a pronounced mechanical thunk, accompanied by another, minor thunk when releasing the clutch.
The throttle response is immediate and downright jumpy through the belt drive, leading the Fat Boy to buck like a bronco if you’re not very measured in your inputs. Whereas the Street Glide with the same engine felt curiously refined, and the Pan America almost felt like a big Honda, the Fat Boy immediately feels tough, bullying you into riding it a very particular way. It’s a brutish beast of a thing, like trying to tame a bear, and I fell in love instantly.
Taming the bear—with vibes
A key difference between this Fat Boy and bears is that, despite their size, bears are actually remarkably agile. That’s not a word I would use to describe this bike. The Fat Boy is the strangest handling bike I’ve ever ridden, but let me make clear that I did like it a lot and felt encouraged to ride it more and learn how to be a proper conquistador to this unruly beast. I’s a fun exercise.
On one hand, the—ahem, fat—160- and 240-size tires are very reluctant to lean, which is fair. You can only get about 25 degrees of lean before scraping the foot boards, and you really have to shift your weight to get this long-wheelbase, steeply raked bike to lean at all. On the other hand, once it starts to lean, it really wants to keep leaning, so you almost have to fight against it to keep the wheels down. Since you can’t lean, this means a lot of awkward bicycle steering at city speeds and fighting the bike at higher speeds, not unlike wrangling a bear.
To me at least, it’s very strange in the sense that the front end is so touchy, and almost given to bicycle steering … at all speeds. On most bikes I almost forget the front end can pivot at all; I’m so accustomed to just pushing down, leaning over, and letting the natural castor of that lean pull me through a corner. On the Fat Boy, you’re very aware that the front fork can pivot; I’d almost call it twitchy if it weren’t for the raw forces of the huge tires and long wheelbase keeping the bike going straight.
The Fat Boy understeers at every speed, making city riding a little awkward, and makes fast riding a challenge—but again, a fun challenge. It takes a lot of confidence to force your weight over, and a lot of upper body to steer against the front end’s twitchy proclivities especially over bumps. Here, the bike will scare you the first time you meet an undulation while turning. Go into corners slowly—slower than you think; you’ll need the breathing room until you’ve really got bear-wrangling mastered—and lean on the engine’s power to pull you through the exit in a hurry until then.
Are the vibes worth it?
I can’t stress enough: despite the above observations, I really enjoyed this bike. Wranglers, G-Wagens, and old Range Rovers handle terribly, too. I enjoy them all the same.
The Fat Boy isn’t entirely untameable. It is fun in an unconventional way—almost a morbid curiosity—to push yourself on it and learn how to best manage it. I wouldn’t have ridden it as much if it weren’t a satisfying task. Moreover, as you’d expect of a Harley, the Fat Boy is an exceptionally proficient open-road cruiser, with good ride comfort and a comfortable seat, for what it is. The riding position is fairly upright, with a little more of a commanding, forward lean than a touring Harley. But it’s not at all strenuous if you remember to relax and embrace the vibe.
There are bikes that are faster, handle better, feel more comfortable, offer more capability and practicality, and so on—even within Harley’s own lineup. That does not matter. Harley-Davidson motorcycles are, first and foremost, all about the experience. They get knocked for just looking cool, but it takes a real commitment to ride one regularly, and that’s a legit vibe. They’re meant to be a rebellious rude awakening in the face of good sense, and if you’re willing to get on board and can stay on board for the ride, you too will see there’s nothing else like the 2025 Harley-Davidson Fat Boy.
