Kawasaki 1500 Nomad
KAWASAKI 1500 NOMAD
Key to the Highway?
PETER EGAN
CW RIDING IMPRESSION
LET’S FACE IT: “CRUISING” IS A rather limited activity. It suggests some sort of mechanical promenade up and down the boulevard during which one is supposed to be admired for cutting a dashing figure while, perhaps, taking in a bit of sun. Sooner or later you want to go somewhere, though, hit the open road.
But the open road is not a friendly place for most cruisers, laid-back Easy Rider mythology aside. The wind catches your chest like a sail, weight is loaded vertically onto your tailbone and there’s no place to put luggage for an overnight stay.
Hence, the Vulcan 1500 Nomad. It’s Kawasaki’s new entry into what might be called the Road King Class. We don’t make this reference inadvisedly here: Kawasaki aimed this bike straight at the Road King, and frankly admitted using the popular Harley for comparison during the Nomad’s development. Naturally, it’s also aimed at the Road King’s other Japanese competition, such as the Yamaha Royal Star Tour Classic or Honda’s Shadow Ace Tourer.
When Kawasaki decided to enter this windshield-and-saddlebag cruiser class, it didn’t have to look far to find a platform, as it already had the 90-inch Vulcan 1500 Classic in its lineup. The new Nomad is more than just a Classic with bags and a windshield, however.
Both bikes share the 1470cc rubbermounted V-Twin engine with a geardriven counterbalancer, four valves per cylinder and single overhead cams, with hydraulic valve adjusters to reduce noise and maintenance. And this year, they both get Kawasaki’s Throttle Responsive Ignition Control (K-TRIC), which adjusts ignition timing according to throttle position, as well as a new carburetor warmer that channels coolant past the throttle plate on the single 40mm Keihin carburetor.
New also is a five-speed transmission, replacing the old four-speed with tighter-spaced ratios and the same tall 0.781 top gear as before. Cylinderhead fins have been shaved to make room for a larger airbox crossover tube and better airflow. While the drivetrains are quite similar, the Nomad has been given a larger flywheel for a torquier feel, though both bikes actually churn out the same figure, a claimed 83.2 foot-pounds at 3000 rpm.
The Nomad’s frame is different, too, with larger main tubes (42.7mm vs. 34mm) and larger steering-head bearings and more gusseting. Fork offset has been decreased from 60mm to 5mm, and trail increased from 4.8 inches to a whopping 7.4 inches, all in the name of touring loads and two-up stability.
Cast-aluminum rims, rather than wire-spoked wheels, are also used on the Nomad, with tubeless tires for cooler running and easier roadside repairs. The Nomad also gets a wider front tire-same size as its rear-and two discs up in front, to the Classic’s one, plus a larger rear brake disc. Rather than twin mufflers on the right side, the Nomad has a muffler on either side, to make room for saddlebags.
To introduce the new Nomad and revamped Classic, Kawasaki flew a group of motorcycle journalists into St. Petersburg, Florida, for a two-day ride through Orlando, up to St. Augustine and then down the coast to Daytona, just in time for Bike Week. El Niño had not been cooperating, so we arrived praying for a few days of clear weather between the tornadoes and rains that had been lashing the state. We lucked out-mostly.
Our first day on the road, it rained so hard we could have just as easily reached Orlando by backstroke as motorcycle, but it cleared the second day and became crystal clear as we headed down the coast to Daytona Beach.
Wet or dry, we had the right bikes for the ride. Florida is, needless to say, not the Alps. What you want to do here is motor along comfortably, taking in the sights, soaking up the warm air and enjoying the essence of the machine. And this is what the Nomad is made for.
It starts easily with a key and choke-pull that are inexplicably far forward under the tank, and likes to warm up for a minute before you ride off. The liquid-cooled Twin (new thicker radiator neatly hidden between the front frame tubes) puts out a remarkably nice sound, deeply mellow, with a clopping gait. Clutch pull on the big, wide lever is light, gear engagement precise and effortless.
The wide, deeply cushioned seat initially feels comfortable, and the handlebars and newly repositioned floorboards-moved 2.5 inches rearward-are ideally angled for my 6-foot, 1-inch frame. The wide, adjustable windshield (2 inches up and down) keeps the wind off your helmet while allowing you to see over it. Wind protection, especially with the optional wind deflectors on the fork, is excellent. On the road, the bike feels solid, steady and stable. The engine pulls strongly at all rpm-as it should, at 90 cubic inches-with a wide torque spread, and cruises down the highway at a relaxed, muscular pace. All is serene.
On a long, empty road back in ’gator country, 1 open it up and achieve just a tick over 100 mph on the top end before it quit accelerating. In both top speed and acceleration, the Nomad seems almost perfectly matched to my own Road King back home. It feels a little heavier and more damped. The Harley has a slightly jauntier feel, with a little more rawness and lightness of being.
And the seat on the Harley is better. Not perfect, but better. Both leave you a bit butt-sore by 2 o’clock in the afternoon, but the Nomad is worse. There’s too much weight on the rear of your haunches, right under the hips. Room for improvement here; it feels good to get off and refuel.
Which happens relatively often, with the Nomad’s 4.2gallon tank. 1 didn’t get exact mileage figures, what with our mass fill-ups, but it seemed to be averaging around 45 mpg, hitting reserve at about 135 miles. The Road King’s 5.0-gallon tank and slightly better mileage gives you a little cushion on the highway.
We attack a few of Florida’s well-spaced twisty sections for the photographer and the Nomad proves to be viceless at any speed I would care to attempt on a claimed 725-pound pleasure cushion. It tums-in easily, and effortlessly tracks through comers without any headshaking. Cornering clearance is excellent, for a non-roadracer.
Saddlebags are nicely finished on the Nomad, vertically split like clamshells and watertight-even in the Biblical deluge we rode through. The locks are slick; you can’t get the key out until everything is shut tight, but there’s no way to leave them unlocked if you want to. They are easily removed from the bike, or you can use a pair of Kawasaki’s saddlebag liners to carry your luggage to the hotel.
At a gas stop before the end of our trip, a couple on a Harley Electra-Glide Classic came over to look at our Nomad. “That’s a good-looking bike,” the guy said. “Solid. How much do they cost?”
“$11,000,” we replied.
He shook his head. “I’ll have to tell you, I wouldn’t mind having one.”
Harley should take note: The Japanese touring cruisers are no longer the cruel styling parody some of them (especially Kawasakis) once were. They are also relatively cheap and readily available at dealers. And some are becoming awfully nice to ride.
This is one. □
