Land Moto District ADV Is The End Of The Beginner Bike As We Know It, And I Feel Fine

There is one particular, verifiable manner in which the kids are not in fact alright: They're not buying motorcycles. This is a problem if you're a company that sells motorcycles, as they all keep whining in every investor meeting, but it's also an issue if you're an enthusiast — this community you love, this activity that you want to share with others, is at risk of dying out. Unless, of course, you ask the kids themselves. They'll tell you something else entirely.

Gen Z and Gen Alpha are buying fewer motorcycles, that's true, but there's something else they're buying in spades: E-bikes. Not just the civilized pedal-assist dentist-movers from companies like Specialized, but Alibaba specials with sketchy batteries and upgraded motors. The modern hot rod, the modern cafe racer, is the e-bike, and Land Moto understands that. The folks in Ohio are working on building a factory custom — the District ADV, our modern, two-wheeled GTO.

Full Disclosure: Former Jalop Bradley Brownell, now in PR at Land Moto, asked me if I'd like to take a spin on the company's prototype District ADV while he was in New York for the holidays. I returned all of it except half of the front brake lever to him, after dropping the bike in almost exactly the same manner that he had a day earlier. We're not so different, current Jalops and former Jalops.

Land Moto wants to turn e-bicyclists into motorcyclists, and that's not an easy task. It's so difficult, in fact, that even Harley-Davidson — a brand that needs new riders like the rest of us need oxygen — gave up on it when former CEO Matthew Levatich's tenure ended in 2020. Grizzled greybeards blame iPhones or the Internet before trying to gift their grandkids a third copy of "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance" to sit unread on a shelf, but I'm more inclined to agree with RyanF9's assessment of things: Kids aren't getting into motorcycling because e-bikes are 90% of the fun at 10% of the effort.

Motorcycles require licenses, registration, insurance, inspections, adherence to speed limits and EPA regulations, knowledge of how and when to shift, feel for a clutch — it's a lot for someone coming from a bicycle. E-bikes, on the other hand, require nothing. Maybe you'll have to learn how to twist a throttle, but even that's a question in the age of pedal-assist. Yet, with modern hardware, these unlicensed, easy-to-ride bikes are starting to hit highway speeds. If you were a 16-year-old speed demon today, which would you be more likely to buy? A Temu e-bike with a motor that could rotate the Earth and pedals that make your parents think it's the same as any old Trek, or a beat-to-hell Rebel 250 from Facebook Marketplace?

This is where Land Moto comes in. Its base District bikes almost look like a scaled-up Super73; their lever-operated brakes are more familiar to newbies than internal combustion motorcycles that put controls at the rider's feet. There are no gears to shift, but there's always torque at the ready when you twist your wrist. The bike's battery even comes out, so city-dwellers can charge it in an apartment. Land Moto wants to be the first step out of the world of e-bikes, and into the world of electric motorcycles.

The new District ADV seems to be the company's most serious offering yet. A new motor package with integrated gearbox not only increases torque to a claimed 221 pound-feet at the wheel (the Ascent launch version gets 277 lb-ft, despite both sitting at the same 23 horsepower as the standard District), but adds off-throttle regeneration to the system — not just a way to add range at city speeds, but to introduce riders to the feel of engine braking. It's taller than the base District, with a 36-inch seat height that dwarfs most gas-powered motorcycles, yet its claimed 250-pound weight is lighter than pretty much anything on a dealer floor. It even has a fairing and a windscreen, like true motorcycles do, yet they're resilient when dropped. Sorry, Land Moto.

To call the District ADV "serious," though, is almost funny. It's so narrow between the legs, so responsive to rider inputs (if a bit dulled by the weight of its tubeless spoked wheels), that it's almost impossible not to ride it like a bicycle that simply doesn't require pedals. There are no tank cutouts to lock your knees into, no rounded footpegs to perch the balls of your feet on, but there's a rear brake that's more than happy to lock up the tire and let you leave a six-foot trail of rubber every time you approach a red light. Allegedly.

The District ADV will spin its rear tire, if you ask nicely. Its suspension can handle not only the bumps of broken pavement or Brooklyn cobblestones, but hopping curbs. It's thin enough to slot through traffic, quiet enough not to raise eyebrows when you accidentally turn down a bus-only stretch of road, and balanced enough that you can easily come to a full stop with both feet on the pegs.

All that whimsy does come at the cost of some all-around capability, though. The District ADV, despite its adventurous name, is not a bike for seeking out the hidden corners of the globe. Range is 40 miles for the small battery, 80 miles for the mid tier, and 110 miles for the top spec, but you probably won't reach the limits of that range before you reach the limits of comfort on the thin, hard seat. The reach to the bars, too, is oddly uncomfortable — adventure bikes are usually some of the most comfortable out there, but even at 5'11" I found myself wanting a set of bar risers to sit a bit more upright. Can you get bar risers for small-batch electric motorcycles manufactured in Ohio? Your guess is as good as mine.

The District ADV is not a touring bike. It's a city bike in adventurous garb, but those new parts do make for an overall package that's more comfortable and more powerful on city streets. Most of all, though, this bike is just fun. Even as my lips froze while riding the District ADV on Christmas Eve, the bike kept putting dumb grin after dumb grin on my face. Was I a bit of a dick out on the roads? Absolutely, but I was having a blast.

Kids are buying hopped-up e-bikes with more torque than some commuter cars, and they're modifying them to be even lighter and faster. If that's not hot rodding, I don't know what is. But most classic hot rods didn't come with the risk of burning your house down — lithium fires from questionable batteries are a very real fear. If anything's going to get young speed demons into proper motorcycling, it's going to be something that gives them the thrill they're used to without the associated dangers. At least, not the dangers off the bike.

That's what Land Moto nails with the District ADV. It's just on the motorcycle side of that gray area — it has blinkers and a license plate bracket — but it has the torque, the electric whine, and the ability to slide and wheelie and hop curbs that kids crave. If we're going to keep the two-wheeled community alive past the deaths of Tri-Glide owners, we can't do it by demanding that the youth of today get really into rebuilding carburetors. Land Moto is meeting the kids where they are, and giving them something truly worth upgrading to.

Of course, that upgrade doesn't come free. The Land Moto District ADV comes in at $11,200, which is a pretty penny more than the $6,700 Surron Ultra Bees that the kids these days seem to love. It's a real investment, but one that comes with the benefits of street legality — no matter how many Surrons wear license plates overseas, they don't get properly registered and insured over here. I hope the kids buy in, I want this on-ramp from the world of e-bikes to motorcycles to pan out, but I do have to wonder whether a five-figure price tag will be just too much for a beginner to stomach. Maybe, with battery tech ever-dropping in price, EVs will be price-competitive with beginner bikes soon.