AIR APPARENT
Martin Peacock decided the time was right to buy a modern bike. But which one? The classic characteristics of BMW’s iconic boxer swayed his decision…
The BMW R90S was groundbreaking in 1973. That was a time when words like ‘heritage’ and ‘lifestyle’ belonged to country houses, and sporting motorcycles were about performance and looks. The R90S caused quite a stir, adding sparkle to BMW’s previously staid image. Indeed, I thought seriously about buying one instead of the modern R nine T which I purchased last year.
By happenstance, my pal Terry has an R90S and he was happy to swap bikes for a day. He has owned his boxer for around 30 years but its family history began in 1973 when a man, who later became Terry’s father-in-law, bought the BMW directly from the factory. Number 80 off the line in fact. He used it in Spain for a while, then as a DR bike in London, but at some point it developed a minor fault and ended up in a damp shed. Much later, Terry retrieved the bike, badly corroded but basically sound.
He rebuilt it with leading link forks, attached a double adult sidecar and used it with a trailer for family camping holidays as well as general transport. These days it is a solo machine with its original tele forks and has a gentle existence on local rides and VMCC club runs. Although essentially standard, it has less fussy Bing carburettors instead of Dell’Orto’s, a wider front tyre and the nose fairing sits on a shelf in Terry’s shed.
We met at The Barn Tearoom in Rockingham for coffee, bacon rolls and a chat before exploring some of Rutland and Leicestershire’s fine rural roads. Climbing aboard the R90S, I was struck by the narrow bars compared to my 9T’s broad spread. The controls were well laid out with a few idiot lights, speedo and tacho providing the essential information. The original clock and voltmeter were of course in the fairing in Terry’s shed.
Five gears on the left and rear brake lever hiding under the right pot. All very straightforward; fuel on, right and left, turn the headlamp-mounted key and thumb the starter button. The warm engine fired up immediately and settled into a steady idle. A firm squeeze of the clutch, down for first, feed in some power and we’re off. There’s an odd feeling of the bike lifting as the suspension reacts to the Cardan drive torque. A jacking effect well known to airhead riders and eliminated by the Paralever linkage of later bikes.
Forewarned is forearmed but, even with my best effort, second arrived in BMW’s notoriously clunky fashion,
followed by a minor clonk into third. Fourth and fifth produced barely a snick as we headed south to pick up the A427 west and then the gloriously twisting switchback that is the B664 to Uppingham. This runs through rolling countryside with a compelling mix of fast straights, both tight and sweeping turns, many with steep climbs and descents for added enjoyment. A classic rider’s road if ever there was one.
The R90S was well up to the challenge and comfortable with its well upholstered seat and compliant suspension. Steering and handling were excellent with the engine pulling strongly through and accelerating away from the bends. Happily, it is flexible enough to avoid the bottom gears for all but the tightest bends.
Not so good was the impressive-looking twin disc front brake. It took a strong squeeze to have much effect, which was at least consistent with contemporary road tests. Even my Commando’s oft-derided single disc is better, never mind the 9T’s fearsome stoppers. The R90S rear brake was effective enough, that is, once you located the pedal skulking under the right pot.
Mediocre braking and the clunky gearbox mean the R90S isn’t the best for scratching around twisty roads, but it does reward the relaxed rider. Brakes aside, fast A-roads and motorways are where it excels and earned its reputation as a fast, long distance tourer.
Meanwhile, Terry was having way too much fun with my 9T as we headed lunchwards south on the B6047 to Foxton Locks, a staircase of five locks on the Grand Union Canal. Equally impressive was the associated inn with its real ales and the good food we enjoyed as we sat by the water and chatted about the bikes.
Fine, capable machines both. Perhaps I should have followed my inclination to buy an R90S: certainly I can see why airheads are popular with classic riders. But no, the new bike gives a better riding experience all round: power, braking, ergonomics, gearbox and suspension work together as an integrated whole. The R90S is very much of its time and feels crude by comparison with modern machines – even as it stands out from contemporaries like my 850 Commando.
That said, at £1799 the R90S needed to be something special. An 850 Commando was £690 and a Triumph T150 cost £747 in 1973. Adjusting for inflation, that is £21,192, £8128 and £8800 respectively today. By comparison, an R9T Pure is £10,215, Commando 961 about £16,000 and Triumph Speed Triple £8100. Norton and Triumph are of course resurrected brands very different to those struggling in the 1970s.
THE RETRO ROADSTER
‘I bought it because it made me giggle,’ said the bloke with the new Ducati Scrambler. This took me aback. Was it really that simple? Perhaps I didn’t need to keep faffing around with spreadsheets and specifications. Mind you, it helped to sort out a few bikes worth trying. Rides on a Moto Guzzi V9, Triumph Speedmaster and Street Twins, Ducati Scrambler, and BMW R nine T told me that modern motorcycles are very good indeed. The R9T was the outlier of the bunch, but I liked the cut of its jib and it was an astonishing machine to ride. The Ducati was up there too and the excellent Street Twin just needed softer springing.
Down to three then, not quite a coin toss but I couldn’t forget the buzz I got from the big boxer or the delight of the sweet handling Scrambler.
I might even have giggled. So I mulled things over and looked for a good deal to minimise the initial depreciation. BMW Park Lane listed their R9T Pure demonstrator. Nine months old, 1500 miles with the factory alarm, heated grips and other options at over £2000 below list. My other half is always up for a day out in London and free delivery settled the matter.
Decision made, deal done and the bike delivered on a bright, sunny day a couple of weeks later. Time to go out and get acquainted… starting with the over-enthusiastic alarm. I quickly learned to deactivate it altogether or turn the ignition on before climbing aboard. Both feet flat on the ground, I like that. The bike rocked playfully from side to side as it fired up and we were under way almost effortlessly thanks to the light hydraulic clutch and synchromesh gearbox. The boxer’s 220kg is well balanced, its low centre of gravity and seat height make it easier to handle at low speed than my Commando.
Ah, yes, this is why I liked the R9T so much.
Gear changes need little more than the ability to count to six, although five would be plenty with that engine. The broad powerband makes it easy and fun to ride, bimble around with a whiff of throttle or tap into more of that 110bhp and experience breathtaking acceleration in any gear. Performance wasn’t among my criteria but I looked it up after a few rides. Zero to sixty in 2.9 seconds or so. That is seriously quick, but you don’t have to ride like a maniac to enjoy it. The big twin makes for comfortable cruising at sane speeds and effortless overtaking.
The power is more than matched by the front brake with its twin 320mm discs and four-pot callipers. Long accustomed to Bowden cables and drum brakes, I found it quite terrifying. Any more than a light touch threatens to stand the bike on its nose. Even with care, I found myself coming up short at junctions. Worse, I nearly dropped it by unthinkingly grabbing the lever, going too slowly for the ABS, and hitting some gravel.
Nonetheless, my confidence and enjoyment grew by the mile. Eighty of them passed in no time and had me arriving home grinning like a maniac. Oh yes, this was a most excellent choice. Very different to a well fettled classic but just as much fun.
Like its peers, the R9T has any number of factory and aftermarket parts on offer. I went with practicality so the surfboard mount (really) and ‘billet’ machined frippery were out. Bearing in mind that it actually rains here, I added a rear hugger, front mudguard extender and crud catcher to reduce spatter from those big tyres. Head protectors seemed sensible, plus a flyscreen, rear rack and a small pannier I had lying around.
The accessories were well designed, supplied with all the fittings and were easy to fit. That is, once I had bought sets of Torx and hex key sockets and a low range torque wrench. Coming on top of insurance and road tax the whole exercise made me realise that old bikes are really good value.
Getting up close with the spanners gave an appreciation of the detailing and build quality. This is a well-engineered machine produced to mark BMW’s 90th anniversary in 2013 and the looks grow on you. The ‘classical styling cues’ are sparse apart from the boxer engine, round clock and headlight and spoked wheels. Nonetheless, and retro credentials notwithstanding, it is a great looking bike. The bulky engine and tank and slender rear end give it a hunched over, muscular look like a cartoon gorilla.
There is ABS, adjustable brake and clutch levers, three trip meters, clock and temperature
gauge but not much else. It’s a modern motorcycle with few gizmos and gadgets, a basic riding machine to enjoy as it is or make use of the modular frame and electrical system to create your own version of a retro roadster. The more expensive, full-fat R9T adds adjustable upside-down forks, tacho, computer display, alloy tank and twin silencers but it’s the same bike in all important respects.
The stylish two-part seat is more comfortable than it looks. I also reduced the rear spring preload and tweaked the damping using the bike’s toolkit. Following that, a 150-mile ride to the Cotswolds produced no aches or pains. The forward leaning riding position puts some weight on your arms in town but makes for
comfortable riding on the open road.
A later trip to a Duxford air show with my daughter produced the official stamp of approval: ‘It’s really comfortable, dad.’ Even twoup the 9T was easy to thread through the clutter of vehicles on the approaches to the airfield.
What’s not to like? Well, it isn’t designed for carrying stuff or keeping the muck off and is a pain to clean. Bespoke pannier fittings are available, but my throw-over panniers do, just, clear the awkwardly placed rear indicator stalks. Of course, these can be relocated with an aftermarket tail tidy if your wallet can stand it. Add my small tankbag, perched like the hump on a dromedary, and it’s enough for a few days away.
My first night ride showed the otherwise impressive headlight was picking out treetops rather than the road ahead. Take it to your dealer, advised the rider’s handbook. Yes, that same dealer who sent the bike out that way! Fortunately, Google was more helpful and I quickly made the adjustment.
If you think Germans have no sense of humour, try checking the boxer’s oil level. Allow five minutes for the oil to drain down with the engine hot, hold the bike vertical and check the sight glass under the left pot! Tricky when alone, there being no centrestand, even as an option. My solution is a camera with self-timer pointing at the sight glass while I hold the bike.
That’s a pretty short list of niggles, far outweighed by the many plusses including some I didn’t expect. There’s real character in that engine. The torque reaction might be subdued but it’s there at the blip of the throttle. It sounds good too, with a pleasant beat punctuated by pops and bangs on the overrun. Tweak the twistgrip though and Mr Hyde comes out with an ear catching, crisp bark. Eventually I spotted the valve in the exhaust that opens on demand so the engine breathes freely and announces itself to the world. Your choice then: waffle along inoffensively or unleash the inner hooligan and hang on.
Steering and handling are first rate even with the Pure model’s non-adjustable, right side up forks. Even so, I didn’t think I was cornering any faster than with my Norton or Triumph, there was so little drama. However, glances at the speedo suggested otherwise; the high ground clearance, sharp, damped steering, and compliant suspension make bendswinging a sheer delight. The shaft drive is smooth. It has no noticeable effect on the rear suspension, either under acceleration or from the fierce engine braking. This arises from the overrun cutoff and requires care over matching the engine speed to gear changes for smooth progress.
Another plus arises from the roads less travelled having their limits in terms of covering ground in reasonable time. Trunk
roads and motorways are a necessary evil on longer rides but the R9T makes these ‘business miles’ less stressful, even enjoyable at times. It is barely getting into its stride at motorway speeds and is very stable, managing so much more than simply keeping up with modern traffic.
Fuel consumption is a reasonable 50 to 60mpg, with mixed riding giving a useful range of about 160 miles to the 3.5 litre reserve. At that point, an automatic trip meter comes up to show the mileage done on reserve.
I still can’t say why I needed a new bike but the R9T was an inspired choice. My only regret is that it took me so long. It is
an absolute hoot and completely at home on highways and byways. A hipster bike perhaps, but make no mistake; this is a very good motorcycle indeed and you don’t need a beard or suede luggage to enjoy it.
What did Terry, owner of the original classic R90S, think of the modern imposter?
‘It speaks volumes that I got aboard Martin’s new R9T and enjoyed it immensely and immediately. After only a few miles man and machine had bonded, and the ride was pure pleasure. Contrast this to the R90S which requires a lengthy training period before the real pleasures arrive. It’s hard to love a bike when the gearchanges graunch, your clutch hand aches and you get that cold, clammy feeling of mild panic when corners arrive too quickly.
‘We learn how to get the best from the old airheads. The characters don’t suffer fools gladly, but repay your diligence with a sweet ride. It takes time. Today’s BMW buyer gets a bike which makes no such demands. It is perfectly tuned to the rider with a sophistication beyond the fantasies of fortyodd years ago.
‘It all goes to prove that a man needs his classics, but he also needs a modern machine. Tell your wife I said so.’