RIDE’S bikes
All good things come to an end. So says Martin Fitz-gibbons after five years of GS ownership
MFG’S life with his BMW F800GS
MY LOVE AFFAIR with BMW’S F800GS starts in summer 2011, while I’m testing Triumph’s all-new Tiger 800 against its established rival. Obviously the GS will get a kicking, because it’s older, less powerful and missing a cylinder. But that’s not how things pan out. The BMW is lighter, slimmer, gruntier and less thirsty. It’s more sure-footed on damp roads and more capable squelching along muddy byways. The more I ride it, the more I fall for its ability, efficiency, purity, authenticity and modesty. Its brazen quirkiness too: those ridiculous indicator buttons; its vestigial third con-rod balancer; its tail-mounted fuel filler; and even the chain being on the ‘wrong’ side. I park it in my garage one evening, step back and realise: “I want one.” Never felt that about an adventure bike before.
Eighteen months later, I wake up in a tent in Argentina. After just six days of off-road training I’m on the 2012 GS Trophy; a week-long, 1000mile rally for 15 teams from around the world, all riding F800GSS. Each day, I wake up dreading what lies ahead and fall asleep grateful to be intact. When I reach the finish line, the wave of euphoria and pride gets me teary. It’s one of the most daunting, thrilling, eye-opening, horizonstretching, mind-blowing experiences I’ve had.
I’m offered a chance to buy the bike I rode but finances just don’t stretch. I’m gutted.
Circumstances change. Two years later I have a small pot of cash and need a reliable, versatile workhorse. In February 2015 I find a used F800GS at a one-man trader fairly close to home. It’s perfect: a 2011 model with ABS, comfort seat, tall screen, genuine Barkbusters, a huge Givi topbox and less than 10k miles. I employ all my canny haggling skills to slash £50 off the nearsix-grand asking price. Result…
Still, I’m over the moon. I take it for sunny back-road blasts with a Bmw-owning buddy. Commute on it. Ride from the east of England to the west of Wales. Take my nervous girlfriend pillion. Discover green lanes I never knew existed. As a bona fide BMW owner, I enter the GS Trophy UK qualifying events in 2015 and 2016, purely for fun, gleefully digging out my old tent and sleeping bag in a fit of masochistic nostalgia.
Not much goes wrong. Over time, I swap its square Michelin Anakee 3s for Continental TKC 70s, which boost dirt confidence but knacker stability at speed. Official BMW servicing proves pricey but I tell myself I’m investing in that precious stamped service history. I’m delighted when my dealer finds a way to switch off the infuriating self-cancelling indicators, and when they fix a fault with the heated grips for free. New head bearings and a £500 bill for the 12,000-mile service is a tough pill to swallow, mind.
Circumstances change again. By 2018 a third mouth to feed in my house sees leisure time vaporise, while a new job at RIDE means test bikes fill up my day-to-day miles. The GS’S annual mileage plummets from thousands to hundreds. It spends more time rusting than riding and, by early 2020, I can’t stand the guilt of keeping a genuine globetrotter couped up. I check its value and it seems that precious dealer service history doesn’t seem to count for a whole lot.
A bloke from wewantyourmotorbike.com calls. He’s polite, makes a decent offer and guarantees the driver won’t haggle me down. Inevitably the driver does try to haggle, but I stand firm and get the price promised. As the van drives off, it feels like a weight’s been lifted from my shoulders. No regrets: we had a fantastic time together, but things ended when they should have. I just hope whoever owns it now feels the same passion that I did.