BMWR18
Perfect blend of vintage style, modern usability and costs-a-packet class? First Edition of the Big Boxer has the character to make an impact Some things about old BMWS are worth forgetting. Nobody really liked three-switch indicators, grabby servo-assisted brakes or the penchant of opposed-twin engines to consume their own lubricant. Other things have timeless appeal, though. Go back further and you get the simple elegance of the huge cast engine cases and finned exhaust clamps on a 1970s R75. Hop right back in the time machine and you bump into the R5 of the 1930s, with its exposed final shaft drive, curvy twin-loop frame and glorious fishtail silencers. Today’s R18 oozes with design cues purloined from BMW’S phonebook-like back catalogue. ‘Entirely in the tradition of historical BMWS,’ say they, and they ain’t kidding. Detailing is perfect, from exhaust and rigid-looking rear to old-style steering lock and screw-on badges. The chrome and R5-style white stripes of this £18,995 First Edition add to the allure. Pictures don’t do the R18 justice; you spend ages circling, stroking and cooing before thinking of riding.
Old s’cool features go into overdrive when you prod the starter. BMW say the imposing 1802cc Big Boxer has ‘good vibrations’, and they’re not wrong. ‘Feels like it’s going to shake the handlebars off,’ grins Bike subscriber and occasional tester Dominic Mattock as the controls lazily oscillate. ‘In fact, you feel the whole bike gently moving.’ BMW say it’s the most powerful boxer ever, though only rate it at 91bhp. What they mean is the R18 has the most torque ever, with over 116 lb.ft at just 3000rpm. And you really feel it. Blip the light twistgrip in neutral and the R18 rocks like a longitudinal-crank device of the 1970s. Pull away, whoop as it lunges forward, and there’s a playful little twist with each gear shift; coast with the clutch in, blat the gas hard and it banks so far to the left you worry the low-slung footpegs might dig into the road. Despite all this it’s the weakest engine here. There’s a stronger punch from Harley-davidson’s similar capacity V-twin when you dump the clutch, and the boxer can’t get close to the warp-factor thrust of the industrial-scale Triumph. This is a bit like grumbling that Snowdon isn’t as mountainy as Ben Nevis, though. The R18 is still stuffed with easy-access grunt, with a feel-good delivery and three modes (Rock, Roll and Rain). ‘Get used to how it makes power and start short-shifting in the middle of the revs, and you really appreciate the grunt,’ notes Dom. ‘It’s so easy to ride – and surely that’s what you want from a cruiser.’ Ease of use extends beyond the engine and light clutch. There’s a sense of the steering dropping into turns at low speed but the R18 is more neutral and easier to control sub-40mph than the Harley. Though nowt like as tossable as the remarkably agile Triumph, the BMW swings through turns easily and has the best ride comfort here; it’s not overly plush (it’s the age-old thing of cruisers connecting you to the road, brother) but has a smoother suspension action than the Harley and doesn’t read the road like Braille, as does the stiff Triumph. The stylish calipers stop the bike, but feel weak next to the side-of-a-barn Rocket. It’s not a feet-by-the-front-axle riding position. Footpegs are what Harley call ‘mid-control’, putting knees not quite at 90 degrees – like the Low Rider S (and my old MZ TS250). With its low 690mm seat and ’bars at elbow height it’s a Harley-esque stance, with thick clutch and brake levers too. But small differences make the, er... difference; Dom’s at home on the BMW but doesn’t like the Low Rider S. There are other H-d-alike touches too; as with Milwaukee bikes the sidestand slips into a slot as it takes the weight, so the R18 can’t roll forward off the stand. Despite a posh feel, there are niggles. This bike has an orangey hint of corrosion in the crevices of its tasty exposed drive shaft, and the lever for reverse gear (left side of gearbox; uses the starter motor to tease the bike backwards) needs wriggling to engage. Something goes amiss with the left cylinder, too. There’s a tiny tinkling noise from the top end, and exhaust smoke from a blipped throttle; start it up after a period on the sidestand and it smokes like my TDR250 from cold.
These aren’t deal-breakers, mind. It’s hard to see anyone buying the R18 as sole transport, and as a characterful second bike that looks right, overflows with sensations and massages your ego, it’s spot on.
‘It’s a bit like grumbling that Snowdon isn’t as mountainy as Ben Nevis’