Ten miles out of Manchester, where I had the privilege to live, the BMW cut on to one cylinder. When this happened the torque reaction became intense, the back wheel cavorting with the damp tarmac. I'd only owned the bike for a day! Performance from the 325cc, 420lb single was pathetic and the back wheel slewed dangerously. I deduced that I should pull off the road before I fell off or was knocked over by the queue of cars aligned to my rear.
That wasn't too easy as there was just a foot of grass to the side of a road only wide enough for a pair of automobiles to pass. Those not entirely blinded by early indulgence in sex or excessive use of their right-hand will realise that the boxer series of BMWs has a bloody great cylinder poking out on each side. Even a man famed for lateral thinking, such as myself, could find no easy way to park three feet of engine on such a sparse bit of road.
The only thing to do was to hop along at 25 to 30mph, hoping that the cagers would show more patience than myself when confronted by a lumbering caravan at similar speeds. After fifteen minutes of horn blowing I was finally able to run off the road, up a narrow gravel track. Being an old hand at this motorcycle game I had a proper tool kit and a mass of minor spares, such as plugs, fuses, wire, etc.
Unfortunately, both fuel and spark worked in the exemplary way one would expect of Teutonic iron and I could only guess at a lack of compression on one cylinder. Forgoing the pleasure of joining one of the rescue service left me with no option but to return from whence I came.
Like lemmings, most of Manchester's population were heading out of the great city, making the road home relatively empty. Having stopped, however, the engine showed the same reluctance to get going again on one cylinder as when the bike was left out in a frozen January night (quite understandable, I suppose). The solution to this dilemma proved identical - the much dreaded bump start, made all the more interesting by the shaft drive and dragging disc brakes. After enough huffing and puffing to convince me I was going to die from an asthma attack, I finally got the old bugger running.
This was not the end of my troubles. BMW's having rather odd handling, with the back end rising and falling with the torque reaction, much amplified by the lack of combustion in one cylinder. Roughness ruled where the previously the motor was commendably smooth if not entirely dead to the world. Road speed was down to as little as 20mph, with the odd urchin on a bicycle passing by effortlessly. Had the handling been less fraught I would've given the bounders a cuff for their impudence. Only a fool with no experience of large motorcycles about to waltz off the road would take a hand off the bars, however great the provocation.
The sight of my lowly residence was as welcome as a night with a sixteen year old nymph, but the latter as likely as an inexpensive and quick solution to the BMW's malaise. As the day's plans were broken there was nothing for it but to take off the head and cylinder. I was gravely suspicious of the ease with which the bits flew off, not since my days with a BSA Bantam had an engine come apart so easily.
The bore was scored and the rings had become one with the piston. I was annoyed with myself for so easily being suckered into buying a motorcycle which was renown for having problems with its bore and piston. How I had laughed when I read in the UMG about some poor soul who'd bought an example of the very same bike with an R45 barrel and piston on one side! It was the laziness of the overconfident that had stopped me doing a compression test.
One used barrel and piston later, plus gasket set and service kit, the 22000 mile, six year old machine was ready for some serious action. I must say, that despite the comfort afforded by the sensible seat and riding position, town riding was not my cup of tea; more like a glass of rum laced with arsenic. That's to say, in the early days of our acquaintance, for it certainly never verged on a love affair, that nasty rumbling shaft drive throwing the back wheel around everywhere, and the sheer width of the cylinders, gave the experience of heavy traffic a tint of nightmare that would only serve to bless a mortician's heart.
Normally, I'm quite a placid chap but I went mad being forced to sit in traffic jams because the bike wouldn't fit through gaps and because if I used the throttle or braked too harshly it was like being on a rubber rocking horse. This would take some getting used to, I recall thinking, when I found myself wedged in the gutter to avoid the clash of metal with metal. The left-hand cylinder scraped along the pavement, leaving quite a few peds with burnt and bruised shins. The BMW was fitted with a fine horn that they insisted on ignoring - what can you do with these poor people?
Practice makes perfect - by the time there was thirty thou on the mileometer I was as proficient in town as most plod bikers. Bounding along A-roads and the better country lanes was where the R65 really shone. Between 75 and 90mph the engine ran with the sweetness of an expensive Swiss watch, which worthy item might well have cracked up if exposed to the rumbles that appeared above 110mph. Unfortunately, my finances were not up to testing such theories and I doubted if either BMW or the watch manufacturers would be too happy about exposure to such a harsh regime.
The BMW was supposedly fitted with uprated fork springs, but my idea of taut suspension was defined by a misspent youth on a Triumph Bonnie. Both ends were mushy but they absorbed the bumps and didn't let the chassis weave until we were cracking on above 90mph. I must add that I weigh in at a muscular ten stone, some degenerate fatso would probably stress the R65 beyond its limits; despite its reasonable faithfulness to the chosen line the bike always came across as almost fragile.
If neither the engine nor chassis were lacking for sensible speeding, with a bit in reserve when events turned desperate, more impressive was the feeling of wholeness, of being more than the sum of what were often agricultural parts, that BMW cleverly instilled in their whole range. Had done so since the sixties with the almost vintage R50. Only lately have the Japanese been able to replicate it in hot devices like the CBR600.
Most of that's down to good ergonomics; seated in as near perfect comfort as it's possible to achieve on a naked motorcycle - there are still many of us who will only tolerate such fundamental dynamics - a large number of faults can be forgiven and absorbed into the general motorcycle experience. Of course, it's even better to have perfect ergonomics on a fault free bike. Or is it? Has modern life become so bland that people go out of their way for a dual with recalcitrant machinery, revelling in mastering the beast beneath the gloss? Maybe.
But you can take things too far! I'd noticed that the vibes were beginning to intrude into my consciousness and by the time 38000 miles was achieved the motor felt like it was ready for the knacker's yard or at the very least had really done 138,000 miles. Careful application of a screwdriver to the engine casing at one end and my attuned ear at the other (not having been deafened by exposure to inane disco music) revealed the distinct probability that the main bearings were going to end up ground to dust if immediate rectification didn't take place.
Alas, my engineering skills didn't really extent to a task where a lot of tender care was needed on a bike to which I ultimately experienced the same indifference as I did to a wife of 25 years; a feeling of lost time and opportunity that you have to experience to really know.
The chassis was still a fine testament to BMW's paint shop so a reasonable price was achieved in a private sale. I could've joined the bounders, lied my head off about the motor, but I felt no need to descend to such a pathetic level - inevitably, one way or another, cheating always catches up with you.
J.K.T.
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So why did I find myself with the urge to buy a boxer? Since my school days I'd laughed at the idea of owning a motorcycle that looked as though the chief designer had spilt his sauerkraut over the brief, and had not cleared the mess up. Why then, the change? The BMW, a '79 R65 sat outside a friend's caravan, rocking from side to side as I handed over 500 quid. He had bought it three months earlier for 850 notes - either a bargain or the bike had shitty depreciation.
The first ride was an eye opener. It seemed that the first thing you should do when riding a boxer is to forget everything that you had learnt previously, except balance, and do your best. My previous bike had been a CB350S, which did everything in a just so manner. This bike didn't. At traffic lights it would rock from side to side. At green lights it would lift off, and at stopping it could not....I was smitten.
Overall appearance was salvageable, paint was still good, alloy reasonable, though most of the frame paint had started to peel off. It started every time and rode well. I could do things with this. The first was to replace the fork seals which had started to leak badly, time to twirl the spanners.
I am not a great mechanic by any stretch of the imagination, but I'll have a go at most things, bar electrics. Replacing the seals was surprisingly easy thanks to the forks being held together by one allen bolt. I put SAE20 oil in to check the fork dive; it didn't help much.
Next, new tyres, the rear wheel a cinch to remove but awkward to get past the mudguard. The tyre fitters had a hell of a job getting the new tyres on, one was perched atop the wheel when I arrived and I quickly talked him down fearing terminal disc warping, but it was okay.
With the front wheel out my attention was drawn to the front brake. It had never worked properly and I wanted to know why. Fork oil had got on to the pads, the dust caps were missing and when I tried the brake only one caliper actually moved. Much renovation work followed. ATE calipers are not up to later Brembo designs and require a full four finger grip to get them to work even moderately well.
Every 1000 miles, or so, the rear drum would collect a mist of oil. The Haynes manual said this was due to the gearbox oil seal, 18 inches away up the other end of the shaft drive. All the seals seemed fine and the BMW dealer said it was due to a faulty O-ring on the brake actuating cam. As there was no way of fitting one, I gave up and cleaned the brake every 1000 miles.
Compared to a friend's 650 Thunderbird the boxer is a much calmer bike. It can't beat the Triumph on handling but really that's about it. The best speed I ever recorded was 125mph on an early morning sprint (on a private road, naturally), the bike felt like it would rather hold 100mph, though. The patter from the forks was something else - I never did it again. That said, the R65 could and did hold a steady 95mph without much fuss.
At 450lbs it's a weighty bike; when it's committed to a corner it's committed. Nevertheless, if you had a strong stomach, a change of line mid corner is possible. My old bucket always managed to keep herself together. The handling ain't brilliant but it isn't bad either, actually it was surprisingly good for a ten year old bike. The rear shocks had lasted well and still had plenty of life left in them.
The shaft drive can catch you out on occasion, entering one local roundabout a bit energetically I forgot myself and slammed the bike down two gears. The rear wheel locked, the ensuing slide taught me a lot of respect for the mechanics of motion and the value of a good solid diet. The shaft drive effect can be used to advantage when braking with the rear wheel, the suspension compresses and stiffens up the rear end. This fact means that braking whilst cornering on a boxer is not as hair raising as it might be with some other bikes.
I have to add that when you ride a BMW, you don't adapt the bike to you, it adapts you to it. If you're not careful you can find yourself toddling along at 60mph smiling at trees. As you plod by with the engine lazily thumping out that rhythm you sing a little, and twisting the throttle to play with the barrel load of torque below, you can grin a little, or, indeed, a lot.
Furthermore, this aura seems to affect others. On a number of occasions I had the misfortune to pass waiting patrol cars, hidden up unforeseen turnings, at a suspect pace. On any other bike it's the patronization game, on the BM' you're as safe as a mason.It's not all sweetness and light, though, the exhausts are rust traps. They go through first at the end caps. When this happened I replaced the caps with sheet steel welded over the end until I had some money for a pair of patterns. On the overrun a beautiful rumbling backfire developed and the bike was generally louder - lovely. Sadly, the chrome was poor and rust had come to stay.
Rust had also got a terminal hold on the headlamp cum indicator bracket, so replacement was bought. Funny, but a little thing like that had a great effect on the overall appearance....a repaint of the engine casings, frame touched up, calipers painted, alloy cleaned up, new sidepanels (these fall off regularly and are bloody expensive, after losing two I lockwired them on), the plastic was polished and came up like new. Finally, a new rear cowl to replace the rusty original, yep, she began to look the part.
Yet, it wasn't sounding the part, the timing chain had given up and the motor began to sound very rough. This was cured by a replacement chain and excessive valvegear end float was found to be the cause of the nasty engine noise. At 48000 miles this was pretty close to the 50,000 miles recommended by the UMG. This was not so much mechanical failure as a bike showing its age. I can live with that.
I tried to rationalise the mpg yet it always seemed to do 50mpg no matter what. Tyres: 7000 rear, 9000 miles front. I always use Metzelers after a previous experience with a set of Avons on a wet road. Front pads last 12000 miles, rear shoes about the same.
Servicing is a breeze. Everything on a BMW is so well thought out - at least those things I encountered. Oil I changed every 2000 miles, filter every other oil change. The gearbox oil I changed every 6000 miles, mostly because the box is so notchy and the gearchanges have to be taken so slowly that I didn't entertain what it would be like if the oil went off. At these intervals the bevel housing and shaft oil was changed as well. Belray oil is the best I found. BMW supply a servicing box containing all the necessary consumables bar oil for a thorough service, This is reasonably priced.
As for spare parts new or used, James Sherlock takes some beating. On a number of occasions my orders have been turned around on the same day and unlike some breakers the parts sent were always serviceable. Generally, I found where BMW were concerned people have got their act together. But be careful, I once asked a dealer deep in the stockbroker belt what was causing the generator light to stay on - his answer was that the generator rotor had worn away so drastically that its replacement was most urgent - £250 and when would I like it booked in? Back home, I replaced the brushes, both badly worn, on the advice of another, far better, dealer. Problem solved, cost £2.50.
In the end, though, I decided she had near enough finished surprising me, I didn't want to wait for something really tragic to go wrong. I'd had a good time with the R65. I was offered twice the price I'd bought her for, even with the new parts I made some pocket money on the deal, so with good memories I parted company with the old girl. All in all, though, I don't think I'd have another but an R100 could be a possibility. I have faith in the boxer series and I don't laugh at them any more.
Chris Harrison
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I took possession of my jet black R65 on the 17th of May 1985. We've been together happily ever since. There have been the usual up and downs, as in any relationship, but we are still together. My bike cost £1500 from a dealer and had 15000 miles on the clock. I saw myself doing lots of touring but I also needed transport to work. Both of these functions were performed perfectly.
There were lots of clutch problems. It's a single dry plate affair like cars. With practice it can be changed in a morning. The first one wore out under warranty and was replaced free. The second one stripped the inadequate splines after only about 2000 miles, so I was given another one which I elected to fit myself. The third plate lasted 20,000 miles but I was never sure whether it slipped due to wear or oil seeping from the rear main seal, so the seal was replaced at the same time.
The fourth wore out after 30,000 miles but it was second-hand and by then the seal had started to seep again. The fifth has only just been fitted and I've gone for a heavy duty after market item.
The most spectacular breakdown was at 34000 miles on the way to a new job and life in Manchester. At 90mph in the fast lane of the M6 the whole bike skipped about a foot to the right. The engine died as my heart stopped whilst brown gooey stuff seeped over my trouser belt. I pulled in the clutch, indicated left and coasted on to the hard shoulder. There was nothing I could do until the next morning when the bike was picked up.
I took the engine apart in the comfort of my own garage to find, not the suspected dropped valve but a snapped con-rod, no less! The bit left on the crank had managed to hole everything in sight. The whole motor was a useless heap of scrap save for the top ends.
In a long miraculous story during which I saw the light and everything (God rides a smoked grey R90S) I found another motor, 20,000 miles old and went despatching in Manchester. No real problems were experienced during this most arduous period. Few weekends were spent in Manchester and a trip to Nord Kapp in Norway was fitted in by my brother (part of the deal which financed my return to the road).
In all, 16000 miles were crammed into four months with few complaints except for another clutch replacement. The only other thing was that all the rivets on the flywheel came loose. I had to throw the flywheel away after some moron welded it up eccentrically.
A word about the Norway trip. My overweight brother overloaded my poor wee 650cc machine with wife, tent and five weeks of kit. He then took her shamelessly over some of the worst roads in Europe to the cold reaches of the Midnight Sun and managed to clock up another 6000 miles. This was the bike's upper 40,000 miles region. The maximum recommended service interval was 5000 miles but when he got back with the bike in tatters, its silencer bandaged and the tappets sounding worse than ever, he mentioned that he had to put a whole litre of oil in it! Apart from this formidable thirst for oil, it seemed the bike had behaved impeccably.
Those silencers were replaced with stainless steel stuff which are guaranteed to last for the rest of my life apparently. They've been on for almost 18000 miles now and still look like new. This is a great improvement on the stock items which cost the same and only last 12000 miles.
Tyres go for 11000 miles front and rear 8000. I've always use Metzs - ME11 fronts and ME77 rears, but I've recently put a Roadrunner on the back since my Guzzi riding chums claim great mileage from them. It seems okay so far and I haven't noticed any handling differences.
I've only fallen off on diesel once and a few other times on mud. If you drop the R65 it just sits on whatever pot hits the deck and waits to be picked up. No exploding indicators or cracked fairings or broken levers. I did hear about some poor bugger who had to stand for ages watching his machine break-dancing in the mud because the engine didn't cut out but mine has never done that, I'm pleased to report.
It commutes very well. The engine isn't as wide as the bars so nipping up the queue is no problem. It takes a bit of time to warm up on the coldest mornings. I did a 20 mile round trip morning and night over busy country roads and through small towns in all weathers for over a year without serious complaint.
The electrics were faultless until the 57000 mile mark when they got a bit temperamental. Nothing dramatic but a troublesome thing called a control box. This bit of electronic gadgetry costs £90 new or £35 used (James Sherlock in Dorset is the place to send for used parts). Apart from that the wiring is pretty well sheltered from the elements under than tank. I vaguely recall a fuse going once years ago. Tail lights go once in a while but I can't remember ever having to change an indicator bulb.
Batteries don't like being left for much longer than a few days in sub zero temperatures. Brake pads and shoes seem to last forever. I think I've changed both twice. Throttle and choke cables have just been renewed (71000 miles). Speedo cables last forever if lightly oiled regularly. The splines on which the back wheel sits need renewing. I've never changed the shocks but I've been thinking about it for the last 20,000 miles.
For touring, the 4.8 gallon tank gives a range of 200 miles before reserve but this can drop to as low as 170 miles when despatching. The bike is very comfortable and easy to handle. I rarely use motorways unless by mistake because they are so boring. Why have six hours of boredom when you can have eight of fun?
She'll sit at 80mph all day, any faster is too tiring for any length of time. The longest run I've done in one day was 498 miles of French N and D roads. I only stopped three times that day and was more tired than sore at the end of it. Tired of having fun on those roads?
The pillion seat too, I'm reliably informed, is comfortable over long distances. The addition of Krauser panniers is more than enough for me alone with the tent on the back seat. A tank bag and back-rack would be all that I'd need should I ever have to tour with a pillion.
The bike is small enough to throw around country lanes but fast enough to cope with motorway cruises. I think its natural element are A and B roads. We've just had our sixth anniversary together and sale is out of the question now, as it was six years ago. I've probably spent a lot on this bike but I'm sure I've saved on buying and selling entire bikes like everyone else seems happy to do. BMW parts cost about the same as Jap parts and they'll always be available, so I probably will give those silencers a run for their money.
I'm sure that BMWs hold their looks as well as their value in comparison with other bikes outside of the classic market. She really is like a Meccano set to work on and a joy to ride. I've had other bikes as well and I'll probably have more but there's none like her - she has a sweet charm and no small amount of charisma. I know most noises now, she is temperamental but in 55000 miles has failed to get me home only twice.
I have ridden bigger boxers and Ks, but the larger boxers seem awkward in some way. I must admit I haven't ridden an R80 any great distance (you really can't appreciate a BM from a test run) but certainly the litre twins are just too big. As for the Ks, yeah, well, okay but you can't bodge them, they're boring (if you want to corner on rails, get the train), and that exhaust note?
Although I've probably sang the praises of my bike a bit too much here, I wouldn't take the responsibility of recommending BMWs to anyone. I've heard of some really bad ones and other excellent ones. Mine is abused quite badly and often ignored for long periods (the last clutch slipped for 6000 miles) but she just keeps going and anything wrong can usually be mended. She's the closest thing I've known to a wife, and much more reliable. Until death do us part, I suppose.
Mick McMillan
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It took a while to track down a nice BMW R65. They tend to be hard used, even quite a few thrown into the horrors of despatching. I thought I'd found a nice 'un at a dealers. The boss insisted that it was a genuine low mileage one, but I had my doubts. It vibrated fiercely through the pillion pegs and the mechanic who took me for a ride actually winked at the salesman. Suspicious.
The quest continued, my persistence finally paid off with a 1982 job that had done a mere 12000 miles in six years of existence. Hard to credit, but the second owner reckoned it had only ever been used in the summer months. The lack of rust on the exhausts, a Beemer weak spot, tended to confirm its easy life. I had seen some bikes for the same money that were little more than rolling wrecks.
Typical Teutonic traits were present. The gearbox clunked and opening the throttle caused the back end to twitch upwards. At low revs the engine shuddered in the frame, a minimal tubular affair that looks like the old Featherbed trellis gone wrong. The crankshaft mounted clutch was sufficiently vicious to throw the reluctant Beemer into wheelie mode.
I'd owned a few BMWs before, all of them older and higher mileage than the R65, so none of this was entirely new to me. What was missing was the midrange grunt of the old R75, and even, to a lesser extent, the R60. The R65 had lightened flywheels in an effort to improve acceleration, but the overall effect was to make the engine feel gutless..... on BMWs the last thing needed is to play insane games on its reluctant gearbox.
The R65 felt much closer to the old 600 than the 750, sharing with the smaller bike a reluctance to go faster than 90mph other than under the most favourable circumstances - like riding off the side of a cliff. Unlike and old R60 I used to own, which would cling tenaciously on to 90mph come what may, the R65 was often reduced to 85 or even 80mph! All it took was a steep incline, heavy head wind or particularly large pillion....I'm no lithe young thing myself.
The R65 was smoother, had a better gearchange and was easier to throw around. The R80 could be quite a wobbler between 90 and 110mph. The weaving back wheel, I was told, looks quite appalling, and I had many a nervous moment when it started to speed wobble. The R65, which was not so heavily stressed, felt solid enough and was more modern in the speed with which it could change direction.
Most of the horrors came from the softness of the springing at both ends. There was less damping than on the older bikes. The way the front forks reacted to heavy braking was traumatic, the forks bouncing on their stops, causing the front Metzeler to jerk about all over the road. Metz's are still generally the best tyres for boxers as they inhibit the back wheel's tendency to switch from a weave into a speed wobble!
I couldn't take the forks for very long. Just using the bike in cut and thrust mode in town had them all messed up with nowhere to go but into full tilt gravel rash time. Go-go dancing has its place and time but not on the front end of my motorcycle, please. There are lots of people supplying HD springs, including BMW themselves, so well recorded is the malaise.
With the suspension at each end sorted the BMW was much more useful in all kinds of circumstances. Even fast cruising on motorways was improved as the diminution in comfort was more than made up for by the feeling of increased security.
Braking could not have been better. Not the most powerful front disc brake but it worked with lots of feedback and didn't provide a moment's worry in the wet. I did 16000 miles in six months without wearing out the pads or having the calipers seize up.
I'm a long distance commuter, about a 100 miles a day all round. It's a bit excessive but the alternative is doubling my mortgage. I reckon I need at least 500cc's to adequately keep up with the other traffic on the long stretches of dual carriageway but anything much bigger than the R65 becomes very tedious in town.
BMWs are not ideal, either, as they have the cylinders sticking out. One of my friends forgot that factor when he was riding a R80GS. Made a hell of a mess of the side of a car by the time he realised what was happening. The R80 escaped merely scratched, it takes one hell of a whack to rip off a cylinder, although it's just as well to fit engine bars.
The carbs can get in the way if you have very big feet, but the placement of the cylinders throws back a lot of hot air - lovely in winter, not so pleasant on hot summer days when trapped in traffic. I've never scraped a cylinder head in corners, the only person I know who has immediately fell off, inflicting massive injuries upon his person. His bike flipped over a few times but was still salvageable.
The only real expense I had was the two batteries that failed. Perhaps my own fault in not paying the premium demanded for the OE item. Starting on cold mornings could be most reluctant, which really drained the battery. A couple of times I had to push-start the bugger, which was not the best way of beginning the day.
The motor was always cold blooded, needing about ten minutes before it stopped coughing and ran smoothly. If I'd changed the plugs, done the valves or carbs, such running would undoubtedly have improved......but I was all for the old adage, if it's running leave well alone. I did change the engine oil when guilt overcame indifference.
I had several near misses. The first was caused by a cager shooting out of a driveway. I whacked on the brakes, wrenched on the bars and whacked into the gutter. Terrible tremors ran through the chassis as the front wheel twitched. Somehow, with both feet down and speed rapidly dissipating as both tyres howled angrily, I hung on to the Beemer. The cager gave me the thumbs up and careered off without a care in the world.
The second incident was when some pedestrian struck out into the road from behind a van. It would have been easy to survive running him down, but my basic humanity got the better of me. I slewed the bike sideways with a fluidity and technique I didn't know until that moment that I had in me. I don't know who was most astonished, the ped or myself. The engine bar did dig a huge hole out of the road, had its chrome turned black with tar.
The third incident was on a wet road when the back wheel locked up solid. I only used the rear brake about once a week and it had decided to seize on permanently. For a moment I thought the engine had locked solid, so hit the clutch. There weren't too many cagers around, and the wide arc the slide generated until we came to a halt did no damage other than to my poor old heart rate.
These adventures illustrate that under extremis the BMW responds well. It has a basic solidity and ruggedness that harks back to the days when motorcycles were motorcycles and men were men. That said, I have not seen any R65s that have gone around the clock, the older engines had better longevity. The 650 motor runs well to 35-40,000 miles then needs top end work even to the extent of ruining its small-ends.
A sad tale: A vague acquaintance bought an R65 and demanded to know why it vibrated so furiously. I had a ride, was shocked to my core by the frenzy at all revs. It felt like the crankshaft was dead. The bike looked okay from a distance; up close there were a lot of minor bodges and the amateur paint job on the tank and panels suggested that the mileage was a lot greater than the 25000 miles on the clock. Finish on BMWs, exhaust excepted, is usually good for at least 50,000 miles.
I helped him strip the motor down. Tearing off the heads and cylinders took less than an hour. The crank was fine, the bores clean and the pistons in good nick. I thought maybe the valve timing had been way out or the clutch was falling apart. It was really vicious vibration, like a tired old Norton Atlas. We started to reassemble the motor, a bit miffed that no obvious solution was apparent when something strange caught my eye. Some wally had put a 450cc barrel on one side and a 650cc on the other!
The youth was so distraught at this trick he agreed to trade in his disassembled heap for my own machine. I knew where I could buy the necessary bits. That solved the vibrations but it was a bit of a rogue machine that needed a full strip down to sort out all the bodging. I've no idea of how high the actual mileage was but after a month's hard use it had become very ragged.
I couldn't complain, with the deal I did it had cost me next to nothing, save for a lot of hard work. I sold it on at a reasonable price to someone who had owned no less that five R65s and thought them brilliant devices. It's not my favourite BMW, but I wouldn't pass up a nice one at a reasonable price.
Ian Francis