Falling off a motorcycle is never a time for great rejoicing. Falling off my two year old R80RT was a time of massive pain and major expense. It happened like this. Doing seventy down a deserted country road I slowed a bit for the coming curve, lined her up on the apex of the road, began to haul the bike over when I realised the road surface was splattered with cow dung. The front wheel went away from under me, the bike hit the tarmac with a great crunching sound, my leg trapped between it and the road. The BMW somersaulted away and I rolled off the road into a ditch.
I lay in about six inches of stagnant water for around ten minutes, half dazed, but not so out of it to know that my leg was going to hurt like hell. When I eventually crawled out back on to terra firma I wished I hadn’t bothered. The R was miles away, evidently having hurled itself over and over down the road. I hobbled off towards it with dread filling my head. I suspected that it had snapped off a cylinder or two, but they had survived.
The RT fairing was wrecked, the tank and seat both shredded by the road, the silencers mashed flat... with that filling my mind I collapsed on the floor with multiple injuries. The next time I woke up I was in hospital. Even now, three years later, I wince with the memories of the pain I had to go through in that so-called hospital. After about three months the sadistic bastards let me out, giving me a final lecture on the dangers of motorcycling... fuck that! I had arranged to have the RT released into the custody of my garage and my younger brother had spent many an amusing evening pulling off the damaged bits.
The naked machine that met my eyes looked... well, pretty much OK, actually! The frame and wheels were all straight. Apart from a few meaningful score marks in the cylinder head covers the engine looked no worse for the experience. Not even the forks were bent. These Teutonic workhorses are made to an engineering standard that the Japanese have not yet managed to emulate. Of course, I was hauled back into hospital suffering a heart attack after I'd totalled up the cost of all the replacement parts needed to get my piece of prime beef back on the road.
Mental relief to this terrible trauma was brought about by perusing a copy of MCN and telephoning likely breakers... the greatest expense, 200 notes for a RT fairing in the wrong colour. Oh well. By the time I'd finished (it also seemed a good time to bung on a proper rear shock and upgraded fork springs) I didn't have much change from half a grand. The bike was put back together over a weekend, so I had little choice but to get back in the saddle.
My leg was still a bit stiff and complained at being contorted even into the BMW's most moderate riding position. There was a bit of a wobble as I moved off. Thinking the frame might really be bent, I soon realised it was just me shaking whilst holding on to the high and wide tiller-like bars on the Beemer. I was soon back into the swing of things, after a 60 mile blast arriving back home with a huge grin and steady hands.
I don’'t blame the BMW for throwing me off, it was just one of those things. I have found the RT to be a most practical machine, my only vehicle used throughout the whole year. It has now stacked up some 59000 miles with hardly any engine problems and, indeed, few chassis complaints. The RT fairing is its biggest plus point, providing excellent protection even in the fiercest of weather. It's also reasonably immune to side winds and the like. Unlike the RS version, the bars are fine for comfortable town use.
The main use of the machine is for going 15 miles each way to work and back. I've even used the machine in the snow without killing myself. The power is never the massive frame twisting, tyre sliding you get on many Japs, despite the shaft drive it can be fed in so gently that the chassis always remains controllable at lower speeds. Any weakness in the frame is only apparent when doing more than 80mph, when the swinging arm support is revealed as inadequate, allowing the back wheel to waltz - it looks worse than it feels!
With the modified suspension the ride is a lot firmer than it used to be, with little of the front fork dive that even moderate use of the front disc managed to produce. The forks used to twist and dive horrendously when the brake was used in anger and the back end flopped all over the place if you were silly enough to be heavy handed with the throttle on take-offs. The bike is still not as taut as I would like, but with road surfaces the way they are it's a reasonable compromise between ride quality and handling finesse.
Above 75mph the fairing has a barn door effect, making acceleration up to the indicated 105mph top speed so slow even weasels in Fiestas can leave you behind. The whole nature of the bike, though, is aimed at lower speeds. The horizontally opposed twin belts out the low speed torque (aided by low gearing) and the motor thrums along contentedly at 50 to 70mph, the exhaust note convincing you that this is the only way worth travelling. Fine on back roads and quieter A roads, but liable to cause a massive traffic jam on the faster roads and all motorways where hardly anyone does less than 90mph.
A word on the exhaust, I've fitted R75 silencers to mine (stainless steel patterns) which give a healthy bark and, along with a few carb jet and filter mods, have done wonders for the economy. Only when ridden at C50 speeds did the RT manage to better 50mpg, more usually giving 35-40mpg really appalling consumption for the level of performance I was enjoying. With the mods, the economy ranges from 55 to 75mpg, usually bettering 60mpg! Personally, for such a slow bike I feel 80-100mpg would be more in line with modern engineering, but I can accept the bike's current economy.
Especially, as it's good on consumables. Tyres (Metz ME11 and MES55) do well over 12000 miles a set, the rear drum hardly ever needs attention and the single front disc, whilst lacking power, at least has pads that go for well over 10000 miles - and there’s only one set to replace! The front disc is a bit weird as it’s totally unpredictable; and age has added to its capricious nature. Sometimes it feels quite powerful, other times you wonder what the hell is going down until you suddenly find the front wheel locked up... the rear drum is a good ‘un, much better than the discs BMW deemed necessary to fit to some models.
Maintenance is dead easy, so I do it myself. Valve access is a wonder to anyone who has ever had to strip off layers of GRP, petrol tanks and miscellaneous bits just to get at the valves on a Japanese four. Admittedly, they do need a twiddle ever 1000 miles and the carbs can go out of balance in 750 miles - harsh vibes indicating when it’s time to do them.
They say that modern BMWs don’t have the quality of older boxers but mine has been very good. The frame paint and engine alloy are still in pristine nick - as a lot of the cycle parts were replaced after the crash with newer stuff I can’t really comment on their longevity. The exhaust is the only perennial problem with BMWs, solved in the Ks with stainless steel; it's a pity they didn't do the same for the Rs. As mentioned, mine has stainless silencers but the downpipes are a bit of a rusty mess.
These boxers have to be considered as thoroughbreds. Just looking at my bike in profile, sussing where the Germans have, over the course of many years, parred the engineering down to the minimum necessary for long life gets my blood going... oh hell, there’s no accounting for taste, it just fits my needs perfectly and damn the fact that it doesn’t handle at speed; in fact, it doesn’t speed at all! But running costs have been next to nothing and the BMW is the only motorcycle I would consider riding in the winter.
Anon