People stare, point fingers with shock and then make way with an unnatural urgency. I move ahead, the Harley parting the crowded roads like Moses' staff that split the Red Sea in half. With more lights than a carnival and a detachable windscreen that might keep even El Nino at bay, the Road King is an imposing sight.
There's really no use compounding my fear of it's size with sheer panic as I'm about to road test the Harley. I close my eyes as I swing aboard the motorcycle. But the eyes are not shut in fervent prayer, just that the chrome is blinding in the afternoon sun and has everybody scrambling for their shades.
Taking the Road King off the kick stand is not as much of an effort as I had imagined. Sure, it's well fed, and weighs in at a hefty 368 kg at the kerb. Seems like the thing was breast fed whey protein and flapper jacks since the day it began life as a large iron ingot. Once in the saddle, the view is commanding. So, this is what it feels to be king.