Saturday 17 April 2021

BMW R90/6

Every year the Shits, the Muggers and the Ridehards run down to the same holiday villa. The Shits ride a wobbly and thirsty Kawa triple. They're probably going to spend the holiday trembling in the toilets of a petrol station somewhere in Munich. The Muggers ride a small Jap trail bike, which while great for those urgent dashes through traffic is liable to leave them crawling down the autobahn at 75kph, being shoved off the road by Juggernauts and gits in Porsches - they'll need another holiday to recover once they get home. The Ridehards, on the other hand, ride a BMW twin. They can cruise all day at 120mph plus in armchair comfort, and it's so economical that they've never had to put petrol in it in five years of trouble free ownership.

The moral of this story is simple and obvious: when you go abroad avoid anywhere where you see a German registered BM, 'cos the place is liable to be full of drunk Krauts lecturing all and sundry on the miracles of Teutonic engineering. In fact, the point of all this is even simpler: I used to think that Beemers were Boring Old Fart equipment until I tried owning one. Now, after a year's ownership, I take the boxer twin as conclusive proof of the existence of god. Even more depressing is the fact that he's almost certainly a Hun. Man surely didn't invent these things alone, anyway: they're far too good.

At the centre of all this praise is the well known, long developed and butch looking horizontally opposed transverse twin. The same bottom end is used for the various capacities, all relying on the same 76mm stroke, in the case of the 898cc R90, being well over square from a 90mm bore. Although primary vibes are effectively cancelled out, those two large slugs of pistons produce a torque reaction that makes the bike shake at very low revs and at certain cruising speeds.

My bike was a late import, brought into the country by a holidaying German (is nowhere safe?) who went back on a Harley. I have a lingering suspicion that the bike was originally claimed to be a 1966 750 to obtain a lower import duty valuation. I didn't buy the BMW, I swapped a ropey GTS Ducati for it. Probably one of my better decisions.


The bike doesn't do any one thing really well. What makes it so outstanding is rather the variety of roles which it can fulfil perfectly adequately. It's a brilliant series of compromises: it combines a lively top end (the engine develops 60hp at 6000rpm) if you hammer it with the ability to pull from tickover (it actually accelerates in fifth from 1000rpm up), whilst turning a hard riding 40mpg into a very acceptable 65mpg average if you take it easy.


Whilst looking quite big (it actually weighs 475lbs wet) and imposing, (not aided by a 32" seat height) it's actually dead manoeuvrable around town thanks to the relatively low centre of gravity. It has the looks of an old classic but has amazing modern features like electric starting and a side stand (cor!). And it's also seriously comfortable. Even my cats like to sit on it, although the alternative is an MZ. It also makes those big twin noises without the vibes.

The engine is different to nearly everything else but really quite simple and easy to work on. Weak points are the timing chain, clutch, gearbox and occasionally the alternator. Tappets are wonderfully easy to get at and adjust, although the OHV setup needs infrequent attention, as do the contact breakers The one piece forged crankshaft runs on plain bearings and gives little trouble even if the seven pint wet sump oil supply is changed irregularly. Only the twin 32mm CV Bing carbs need anything like regular balancing, their neglect increasing vibes quite noticeably.

The handling becomes a bit wobbly at speed, but this is probably due to the front forks which aren't exactly A1 these days. They also allow the front mudguard to hit the motor, thus locking the steering. I only find it a problem with the extra weight of a passenger; it's more worrying than it is dangerous if you're aware of it. I never go out two up nowadays without at least one spare set of underwear - not the most elegant of engineering solutions, I know. It's also a pretty shoddy cold starter, again my fault for being a cheapskate by replacing the battery with one from a Reliant - less than half the cost but not up to the abilities of the standard 25 amp hour battery. It's a bugger of a lump to bump start, with less than four people pushing the engine just locks up solid. Fortunately, as an ex Le Mans owner I have a house full of jump leads and battery chargers. It starts easily once it's warmed up.

A sweeping generalisation: with the possible exception of late Triumphs, BM twins are probably the best bikes on the road for availability of second hand spares. They don't compare with the cheapness of Triumph spares, of course, and even used bits tend to be overpriced, but these engines have been around for so long and so many parts are so similar between models, with a high degree of parts interchangeability, that there are loads of bikes broken, festooned with bits that'll fit any of the others. You can even swap cylinders and heads to increase the capacity. The bloke I bought mine off had replaced the whole gearbox for £150 (in fact, about £50 over the odds - the perils of shopping locally). I'm about to fit a used universal joint which cost around £30 delivered.


Most of the breakers tried to flog me a complete swinging arm, because BMs don't come apart without recourse to special tools they tend to be left in units. This is a great blessing because hoodlums with huge hammers, chisels and a pair of Mole grips tend to leave them well alone, so when you buy a gearbox you've a pretty good chance of finding one that works reasonably well - although that term is a relative one with old BMs because they're clunky little things brand new and just get worse and worse. Even police riders get the transmission all wound up from time to time.
With the exception of the gearbox the engines tend to keep going for thousands of miles and I can imagine a post holocaust world with mutants roaming the earth, with BMW twins and MZs still rattling around. I'm none too keen on the staid image, myself. If it wasn't so expensive I'd consider joining the owners club just to see if I could get myself drummed out. You can have loads of fun with them, though.

Riding about with no silencing and trying to get into races with everything that moves (especially flying bricks which never take up the challenge) is a great game - more so because rivals just don't expect that kind of action from old Beemers. If I had loads of spare dosh I'd put a really low geared box on it (about fifty quids worth second hand) and side panels with 600 writ large upon them, purely for traffic light showdowns. I can imagine the incidence of ritual suicides drastically increasing in my area. On stock gearing you need a passenger to aviate the front wheel... I'd recommend 'em to anyone. In fact, buy mine, at an inflated price, so l can build a flat track R100.


Ron Price