Since the moment the Chief was unveiled, many of us have been quietly waiting for the Scout. What would a modern interpretation of Indian’s classic smaller, sportier bike look like? First of all, how “modern” would it be, given the Old-Testament styling of the Chief? How will it fit into the market? How will it ride? I think mostly we were thinking, “Please don’t fuck it up.”
After delivering a heavy right hook with the Chief, the Scout is a quick uppercut from the left that should loosen a few teeth in the cruiser world. It shows not just force but agility. One-two. Float like a butterfly, and all that.
Well, like they say on Marketplace, let’s do the numbers:
The Scout is priced to compete with the 1200 Sportster, and comparisons are unavoidable, since that’s probaby the champ it’s looking to unseat. The 1200 Sportster is arguable H-D’s best bike – certainly it’s their funnest – but you can’t just get a Sporty now, it has to be a “Custom” or a “Seventy-Two” or a “Happy Ending,” or whatever they’re slapping on it now, and it’s still (unfairly) looked on as a stepping-stone to something fatter.
The Scout’s liquid-cooled 69 cu. in. (=1130 cc.) engine just nudges out the Sporto on torque with 72.2 ft-lbs., but the more interesting number here is 100, as in horsepower, which is the magic threshold today for a legit sportbike. That is a very different powerband profile; it can spool as well as grunt. (Ain’t it great what a little modern engineering can do?) It also happens to weigh 24 lbs. less than the current H-D 1200c. Ooh.
Another very appealing number here is 6. Six gears makes go faster better. The increase ability to fine-tune how you’re putting power into that rear tire at what speed makes a huge difference in your control and whee-factor.
Finally, the Scout can lean 31 degrees both sides – 5 degrees more than the Sportster. Did that sound like a lot? Because it actually is. This is an important expansion of the performance envelope.
All these things together mean the Scout might just be that elusive paradox – a real Sport-Cruiser. A cruiser for people who love to ride – I mean ride. I know you knee-down serious sport jockeys will scoff, but there is a surprising amount of performance potential in this mid-size cruiser.
The Sportster is the almost untouchable epitome of cool and classic, making every other mid-size cruiser an also-ran, until now. Of course, our choice of bike has as much or more to do with syle and how you feel when you see it in your driveway as with any objective criteria. Bikes live or die by style as much as by substance. I take that back. In design, style is substance. Beauty is bone-deep. How does the Scout stack up on the catwalk?
The Scout eschews those velvety, Marylinesque curves of the Chief – the curves that remind us that American sheet metal can be fine art, like an Auburn boattail speedster. Instead, the Scout gives us compact, angular shoulders. The intent, no doubt, is to make the bike feel muscular, beefy, and powerful, to make us associate it with the Power Cruiser category. Unfortunately, the effect is a little cardboardy, like we’re looking at an early mock-up instead of a polished finished product. Maybe it’s trying a little too hard to look rough. It’s kind of like the stuffed sweatshirts of Hans und Franz, or – even worse – the clunky add-ons on the V-Rod “Muscle” (They actually named it “Muscle,” in case you didn’t get it. Was there an “Engorged and Tingling” option with that bike? Last SNL reference, I promise.)
While I think the creased tins miss the mark a bit, there is a lot to praise in the Scout’s styling. The overall low, compact proportions actually do more to give it a feeling of power and potential energy than the sheet metal does.
One of the nicest elements is the arched profile of the tank, which is the most overtly historical reference in this otherwise very contemporary cruiser. That shape is more pronounced here than in the older bikes, with the bottom of the tank picking up the curve in a way that adds a spring to the whole composition of the machine. This gives an otherwise serious-looking bike a lift of élan – the little bit of joy that every bike should have. This curve also creates a vital visual arc that connects the headlight and triple-tree area to the rear frame and suspension, unifying the whole composition and drawing your eye across the bike in a slightly perverted way. This tank shape ties everything together; it is the defining design move that makes the bike. Whoever sketched in that shape knew exactly what they were about.
It should also be mentioned that the saddle is beautiful, particularly with the red paint.
Kudos also for not trying to make the motor look like an air-cooled engine. The radiator is an integrated part of the design, instead of trying to fig-leaf it. (I should say that H-D also did a great job of this on the V-Rod. The Honda Fury is probably the worst example of trying to pretend an engine is air-cooled. Actually, the Fury is the worst example of a lot of things.) The motor itself looks like it means business, with no fake cooling fins, which would be, to paraphrase Philip Johnson, like putting fake propellers on a jet airplane.
The real challenge in styling a cruiser is to make something that isn’t either: A: anonymous among the zombie-like throngs of nearly identical cruisers lurching along our highways, or B: an outlandish Rune-like contraption evincing all the design elegance of a steampunk dildo. In both the Chief and the Scout, Indian has managed to avoid both these pitfalls and put out distinctive design statements. We can argue about whether we “like” them, but they had an incredibly difficult design challenge, and they nailed it.
It makes me eager to see what’s next. I’m really anxious to see an Indian that’s not a cruiser. There are hints that something may be coming, but maybe I’m hearing what I want to hear. If they can do a full line-up as well as they have crafted these cruisers, we can look forward to a very exciting new American motor company.