A 1981 BMW R65 came my way. 475 notes changed hands. The boxer engine was running pretty well, with no smoke out of the exhaust. The machine was reasonably quiet. No sign of the dreaded timing chain rattle. The motor shook like it was about to fall out of the frame at tickover. Twisting the throttle caused the back end to twitch with the torque reaction through the shaft drive. The riding position felt natural, well balanced.
The gearbox turned out terrible. The clutch was sharp in take up, and the box clunked into gear. Needing a hefty boot to change up, it clanged away with an ominous symphony through each gear. I gritted my teeth and hoped they were all like that. Power was miserly, the twin needing a surprising amount of revs before any evidence of real go became apparent.
On the first day of ownership I found that it would do the ton and no more. Subsequent speeding trials in more interesting conditions revealed that it would still do the ton and no more. Handling at speed was OK. There was some twittering at the back end. The reasonable weight of 410lbs combined with the low centre of gravity to make the Beemer easy to control at most speeds.
Town work was obviously limited by the massive width of the engine. The gearbox also precluded any smart manoeuvres. The need to move my foot slowly and accurately to avoid the worst of the noises made it a waste of time to cane the bike through the gears. The way the back rose up under acceleration was well weird but never seemed to do any harm. I eventually learnt to ignore it.
The complex interaction of braking and shaft forces meant that stamping on the rear brake made it tighten up its line around corners as well as backing off speed. A great safety feature. Throttling back made the rear end bounce about. The rear suspension was worn out, so that was expected. It never got so bad that I was persuaded of the necessity of replacing the suspension.
The front brake was the usual horror story. A single disc of marginal performance. Rain produced delay then sudden seizure of the brake. The disc got so hot that steam poured off it in the wet. The feel was spongy and imprecise. The original hoses were still there, so were probably to blame for a lot of that. I took about seven months to truly get to grips with the front brake.
The engine had done 43400 miles when the bike came into my hands. There was evidence that the motor had been torn apart in the past. Badly mangled screws and bolts suggested someone who was not an expert engineer. When I had my friendly local mechanic check on the compression it was way down on one cylinder. Valves or pistons, said he. One thing for the boxer layout, it must be the easiest of engines in which to remove a cylinder head and barrel. The mechanic had the offending items off within ten minutes. The piston was off some other engine. With the slack in the bore it was amazing the motor had run at all. The bore was OK, just a matter of buying a new set of rings and piston. Including labour, the total cost came to £96, with a free service thrown in.
Vibration was a lot more diminished than power was increased. The R65 still refused to pull more than the ton. Low speed torque had increased slightly, still not enough to impress a Bonnie owner. Fuel consumption went from 39 to 45mpg. The compression on the other cylinder was more or less identical to that on the renovated one, so that could hardly be the cause of the poor performance and awful fuel economy.
The bike was, nevertheless, surprisingly useful. Mostly down to the comfort provided by the seat and riding position. I could take hours and hours on the bike. Despite its lack of top end go, the boxer was still able to cruise at an indicated 90mph all day long. The rider nicely braced against the force of his self created wind by the low, narrow bars.
As mentioned, the rear wheel twitched about, but never so seriously that I had cause to hurriedly back off the throttle or rush home for a change of underwear. On those occasions when the front brake decided to come on with its full force, the forks twisted and dived heavily. They occasionally fluttered over the road in fast bends. Also, the front wheel would try to walk away from the bike under extreme abuse. The whole machine lurched malevolently if I suddenly decided a change of line was necessary mid corner.
The basic chassis and engine were still running well with 52000 miles on the clock. The same could not be said for the exhaust. This had been a bit of a rust heap when I'd bought the bike. I paid it scant attention until the usual contented 90mph hum turned into a low flying jet roar. Shortly after that event, the left-hand silencer decided to fall off. To even things off I gave the other one a few kicks. I watched quietly amazed as it fell apart before my eyes. I roared home, a rolling health hazard that woke the dead and shook windows in their frames.
I was booked by one irate plod who reckoned I had broken his hearing aid. Though what the police were doing employing the deaf I don‘t know. The fine was nothing compared to the cost of a new BMW exhaust system. Instead, I bought a pair of universal megaphones - the dealer insisted they were only fit for racing but I ignored his protestations. The noise became a pleasant bark below 3000rpm and the kind of roar than sends dogs into a frenzy above those revs.
The air filter turned out to be full of ten year's worth of crud. I threw it away and fitted on some K&Ns meant for a Guzzi. The carburation didn't appear to mind these major mods to the induction and exhaust systems... perhaps they balanced each other out? On the road, the BMW felt much stronger in the lower rev range but still would not pull more than the ton. Not that I'd want to with the head splitting exhaust row. The big surprise was that the bike started averaging 55mpg! I could put up with a lot of noise in exchange for cheaper running costs.
Having heard frightening stories about fitting other brands, Metz’s finest were always wrapped around the fast corroding wheels. These typically lasted 7500 to 8000 miles before becoming so worn as to induce massive twitchiness in the chassis. The front pads didn’t wear rapidly, probably because the front brake hardly ever worked properly. Figure about 13000 miles a set. The shaft drive was trouble free as long as the oil was replenished every 10000 miles. Basic servicing was a cinch, apart from the carbs which needed 500 mile balance sessions.
With over 59000 miles done the camchain decided to fail. Why BMW couldn’t use gears in their OHV design I don’t know. I suppose it saves production costs to bung in a cheap and nasty chain. Whilst the mechanic was at it, we decided that a new clutch was in order. The old one had become extremely jerky and started to slip at high revs. The bike forced me to do inadvertent wheelies on several occasions. A fearsome occurrence on a boxer twin, with the shaft torque getting the suspension all mixed up. Total cost of these renovations, again including labour, was £124. The bike was simple enough to work on and I could have done the job myself, but I had great faith in this particular mechanic.
The engine was still a bit rattly, which we put down to worn rockers and tappets. The clutch was much improved, although it did little for the gearbox. I have had a test ride on a modern BMW, which still had a poor gearchange but nowhere near as intransigent as mine. I knew, if I had ever wanted to sell the machine, it would be the one thing that would put potential purchasers off.
More miles were done, more roads travelled. | really grew to love the way the Beemer would eat up vast distances. Setting myself increasingly wild targets I eventually called it a day after doing 1261 miles in 24 hours. After that amount of time in the saddle, even with the excellent riding position, my bones were sore and stiff. I needed three days R&R to recover.
As 62000 miles were broached we had our first and only serious accident. I had dropped the bike a few times at low speed but done no serious damage. This time, if the front brake had worked even adequately it would not have been too bad. The usual cager driving straight out into the main road without thinking. I hit the horn at the same time as I grabbed the brakes. Both to no avail. Just before the front wheel buried itself in the side of the Orion, the cager looked up absolutely astonished as this huge bike and rider thundered down upon him. He didn’t walk away from the accident. The front wheel battered down his door and took out several of his ribs.
I was thrown over the bars, over the roof and into the road beyond. I landed well, rolled a few time and was able to bounce back up. The front end of the bike was as wrecked as the side of the car. The front wheel had shattered, bits of alloy spread like shotgun pellets in both the door and driver. I later heard the poor chap had a mild heart attack as well. I had got speed down to about 40mph, it could have been worse. A long argument ensued with the insurance company. In any fair system the car driver’s insurance would have paid up for the damage within days. These bunch of cowboys had other ideas and only a barrage of solicitor’s letters finally secured some funds.
The frame was OK. I hadn’t bothered to wait for the insurance people to sort their act out. A front end off a much newer R65 seemed ideal, so I handed over £250. The forks went on with no problems, along with new steering head bearings. Needless to say, the braking was transformed. I was nearly thrown over the bars the first time I touched the lever. All the mush was gone! This helped restore my nerve. After the close shave with the Orion I had pondered giving up biking. I was getting too old for those kind of aerobatic sessions. In the end I decided I had had my accident for the next decade.
The next year saw another 25000 miles done. I was expecting a major problem with the engine but it never happened. Instead, she became more and more rattly. Some smoke started coming out of the exhausts on the overrun. Top speed was reduced to 95mph under favourable conditions. The maximum cruising speed was reduced to just over 80mph. Above that the vibration became unpleasant.
The universal silencers had also rotted through. A pair of stainless steel R75 silencers were acquired at a bargain price. These quietened down the roar to a remarkable degree but did nothing for the fuel economy. The latter having gradually gone back down to 45mpg as the engine wore out. 86000 miles is not that a high mileage for a BMW but when my mechanic friend began to strip the motor down just about everything was revealed as being well and truly worn out. The gearbox was by far the worst. Missing teeth on the gears, selectors bent and even a bit of the casing cracked. I had wondered where all the oil was coming from. Its previous 220mpp going down to 60mpp!
The really nice thing about BMWs is their model continuity. They keep the same engine configuration going for years and years. Interchangeability of parts is possible between models 20 years apart in manufacture. I paid out £425 for a low mileage R65 engine out of a mangled bike and helped my mechanic to fit it into the chassis. Went straight in, no bodging required.
With a new front end and engine, the boxer looks like it will go on for another decade at the very least. After mastering the cantankerous old gearbox, the newer one seems like a knife through butter. I’ve finally got the old girl to break the ton barrier. Top speed is now 110mph! The weaves are sick making, so I am happy enough to stick with the 90mph cruising ability. Fuel consumption is poor - 40mpg. Can’t say why the newer engine should be so bad. Other than that, I am too happy for words.
H Pointing