BMWRnineT Racer
Ahysterical Boothy, sat stationary on the Racer at some traffic lights in Lincoln, said: “Boys! Check this out.” He sounded like he’d just unearthed a clitoris for the very first time, but no, it was Boothy’s first taste of a Boxer engine and its idiosyncrasies as it shimmied back and forth from upright to one side upon needless throttle jockeying. First we were treated to the original R nineT before BMW released the Scrambler, and the R nineT floodgates opened with a Pure, Turban and this, the fifth incarnation of the Boxer-powered platform: das Racer, ja.
First off, this is the finest looking R nineT of the five. No question. You certainly attract more attention aboard the BMW. While the Yamaha faded into insignificance as just another street bike, the Racer drew hordes of Lincoln’s finest whimsical unemployed locals. Who would’ve thought a 1970s semi-dustbin fairing surrounding that mahoosive headlight would make a sexy resurgence? Not me, but I love it. Although it’s far lower than the Yamaha, the BMW is also heavier and more cumbersome at lower speeds, not aided by the Boxer engine’s particular irregularities.
And, again, unlike the intuitive Yamaha, it takes a while to sniff out the BMW’s quirky manners, capabilities and working parameters. I’d heard rumours of a reach to the ’bars aboard the Racer, but this is ridiculous. It’s not grossly uncomfortable, just awkward, and long stints in the saddle aren’t advised. It feels long and it is long. It feels heavy and it is heavy. It’s certainly not as agile or adept at change of direction as the Yamaha but there’s something intrinsically enchanting about this retrosexual beauty.
If the Yamaha’s suspension is awkward over bumps, the BMW is like two jackhammers have replaced the Racer’s conventional fork and Paralever. The über stiff chassis doesn’t help matters and smooth surfaces are required to extract the best. The extreme riding position naturally shifts weight towards the front of the bike, which only results in positive vibes, man.
Once the brakes are released and the chassis has regained its composure, the front-end is allowed to shine. And this is where its name starts to make sense – the Racer was christened at an apex. There’s a sumptuous taut, racy sensation oozing from the chassis that’s absent from the rest of the R nineT clan. Remove the retro garb, and you could be riding something far sportier. Until you open the throttle.
The Racer’s peak power figure may be comparable with the XSR900, but the similarities end right there. The delivery is flat and very linear, yet still manages to radiate thrills. Even in standard trim, the Boxer engine sounds sadistically naughty thanks to the Racer’s exhaust. Boxers have divided opinion like Marmite but even haters will struggle to not be aroused by this execution.
Despite packing plenty of punch into its midrange, the Racer certainly ain’t rapid in a straight line and, anyhow, we were restricted by our pisspots trying to evacuate at 85mph. Oh, and Manpons escaping from our pouches: basically a male version of a tampon, used to wipe excess urine. Even our faces getting a constant peppering of road detritus did little to curb throttle enthusiasm, although the Yamaha was just a whiff of throttle away from buggering off into the distance.
If you’ve never ridden a Boxer-powered Beemer, it’s hardly exciting and can initially mimic the sound of a farting wasp. Conversely, if you haven’t ridden a recent incarnation of a Boxer, the refinement deserves a medal. How something so simple, something that was conceived back when Tommy Shelby was running Birmingham is still prevalent in today’s techno-fest is astonishing.
With a very basic electronics arsenal (well, more of a spurs than an arsenal) that consists of BMW’s Agricultural Stability Control (ASC) and no quickshifter, plus a braking set-up that looks budget to say the least, you have to look past the Racer’s cosmetics. Taking heed of its name, the BMW gets better with speed.