Having bought the thing the next move was to take it on the rough. Lesson one, a trail bike with a boxer engine requires motocross boots. The gentle footing that one indulges in normal trail riding becomes damn painful as your shins smash into the cylinders. Apart from that, it appeared to bounce around with a reasonable degree of predictability.
Never one to learn a lesson easily, I decided to enter one of the trail bike enduros. | was a bit unsure about using the BM’ so wrote to the organiser - back came the reply, "BMW R80GS will be OK.” So off I set for Derbyshire from Dyfed. I arrived to find the paddock field bristling with Husqvarnas, XR Hondas, PE Suzukis, etc. Gulp!
The event consisted of completing as many laps as possible in an hour of an extended motocross. There were penalties for running over the hour and staggered starts so that everyone didn’t finish at once. As the division between classes meant everything over 250cc ran together, I was in with the serious boys.
The motocross part of the track was very wet and slippery in places and I was on road biased trail tyres. I fell off a lot. There was one corner in particular, a climbing, sweeping left-hander covered in slimy mud with a little gully running across it. Until I learnt to take it dead slow I simply slid off every lap.
Now, people may laugh when they see some fool falling off his bike, but when they see someone slithering around and crashing to the ground on a BMW they collapse in paroxysms of mirth, but the spirit of spectators and competitors alike was wonderful. When I nearly buried the GS at a particularly marsh-like section of the track, a kindly spectator helped me extricate it. A fellow rider, whom I had talked with before the start, would toot his horn every time he stomped past me on his XR600 Honda, whilst another guy on an ancient single of some description shouted out, "Christ, I thought I was brave,” as he wobbled past.
The BMW did have its advantages, though. The better riders on competitive bikes were naturally keen to get a move on and would unceremoniously barge a slower bike out of the way when they couldn't get around it. Fine with most bikes maybe, but it’s one thing you can’t do to 800cc and nigh on 400lbs of lumbering BMW with pots sticking out the sides like the knives of Bodicea’s chariot.
I became a sort of mobile chicane for these riders, being especially amusing as we approached the scoring caravan where the track narrowed down. To be fair to the bike, on other parts of the track it did rather well, on one long, grassy uphill it surprised other bikes with its speed just because it had so much power. The suspension had a hard time over the bumps but at the end of the hour it was still going strong, more than could be said for me.
I hadn't realised how shattered I was and when I got off the bike my legs were so tired that I fell over. I don’t think I won the enduro but it was great fun throughout. I have a pet theory that given sufficient time and money I could make a demon dirt/desert racer out of the GS. Just look at BMW’s record in the Paris-Dakar rally.
When I bought my bike it was fitted with the optional fork brace (a good idea on long forks that flop about a bit), pannier racks and a solo seat with an extended luggage rack. Apparently, the bloke who first owned it planned to go to sell guns in India. Whatever, it left me a very useful and extremely attractive motorcycle. I will repeat this last point as a number of my motorcycling friends with otherwise good taste failed to appreciate the beauty of my GS.
With throw-over panniers resting against the side frames, a top box bungee-d on the rack, a bundle on the little back rack and the relatively flat tank able to take a large tank bag, the GS could (and did) carry a vast amount of luggage. The bike itself was not unduly worried by carrying vast quantities of luggage, which encourages further abuse. I can see why Austrailian rallyists swear by, rather than at, them.
Unfortunately, all has not been sweetness and light in this tale of BMW ownership. One of the most annoying episodes concerned the ignition coils. The bike intermittently lost power dramatically. With everything so accessible it was easy to discover that one cylinder wasn’t firing and that the coil was at fault. This highlighted both good and bad points about BMWs. The coils were special BMW items and cost £70 each, utterly ridiculous. On the other hand, any BMW part is guaranteed for 12 months and will be replaced if it fails. I found that this guarantee was honoured when the coil failed again. BMW muttered something about a faulty batch.
During the course of my GS ownership I went from being a reasonably well paid if perennially bored civil servant to being an impoverished student in London. The bike’s easy cosseted life had come to an end and it had to work for a living as I became a part time despatch rider. Many despatch riders were mad. I was followed down Park Lane by one chap who I could not shake off. Weaving my way between cars at ever increasing speeds, he kept on my tail until I let him past. Following, I saw the only way he could keep his speed up was by bouncing his panniers off the cars!
Two problems emerged from this period of madness. A spoke broke in the front wheel and a stud that held the right-hand cylinder down started to pull out of the crankcase. I paid a vast amount of money to a dealer to fix the latter and was not amused to find that he'd fitted the exhaust pipe with a poor fit in the head.
That summer, the BMW had its chance at what BMWs are supposed to do best - touring. The racks on the GS were a great help. With a top box thoughtfully provided by the despatch company and a couple of rucksacks thrown onto the side frames, I didn’t even need a tank bag. The GS acquitted itself well down through France to the Mediterranean coast until we entered Spain when the BMW went dead with an obscure electrical fault. Fortunately, I was a member of the RAC Eurocover scheme and had the fault fixed by a dealer.
The Spanish coast was expensive and filled with tourists, the interior was much wilder and the GS was happy as it could be driven through the miles of torn up road, it ate up loose gravel, rutted roads and slopping wet mud where water had been sprayed to lay the dust. I caned the bike to teach it a lesson for going wrong.
During the 30000 miles I did, I found the rear tyres lasted less than 5000 miles and the front about 8000 miles. On the road, Metzeler Enduros were superb, for off road use they clogged up too quickly in mud and made the GS a real handful. Michelin T64 rears were pretty good off road but wore quickly and slipped in the wet on the road when part worn.
One aspect of the BMW that I can’t recommend too highly is its general toughness (although crash bars are essential). I dropped it on numerous occasions on and off road but you could just pick it up, kick the crash bars straight and ride off. It is very adaptable and inspired interest wherever I went. Endless old men talked to me as it looks like a motorcycle.
When seriously pushed on the road the front brake, a single disc, is a little weak (pad life anywhere between 5000 and 10000 miles) but the rear drum is excellent. Over the time I had the bike the suspension sagged noticeably but it hadn’t got to the point of needing replacement. High speed riding, with a ton top speed, wasn’t much fun, as the high bars meant a harsh wind blast and the soft suspension let the chassis bounce and wobble around. That said, with less than 380lbs to throw around it never became a danger to my health.
Generally, it is easy to ride and throw about in traffic and at speeds up to 85mph, although in extreme use one worries about grounding the cylinders. When newer it would give 50mpg, but this has dropped off a bit with age If seriously thrashed this can drop to almost 40mpg. It looked superb old or new, clean or dirty; a real motorcycle. So why did I change it? Well, it seemed that the dealer who fixed the stud didn’t do the job properly so there was going to be more hassle there. Then again, I wanted something more capable off road, plus I fancied a change and I don't like being let down even when I’m partially to blame. But I still miss the GS.
J Cooper