BMW superbike is smooth but never soft
Restrained? Tame? Speedy S1000R is anything but
PALMA DE MAJORCA, SPAIN — It’s really quite amazing how tractable a highly tuned engine can be, depending, of course, on who’s doing the tuning. Exiting hairpins at barely 2,000 rpm, there’s so much torque available to my nervous right hand that, because the wet Spanish roads are so darned slippery, downshifting is, thankfully, rendered superfluous. Not having to deal with vagaries of wet weather traction while trying to contain a champing-at-the-bit superbike is a surprise beyond the merely pleasant.
Even under this heavy load, the highly tuned (160 rompin’, stompin’ horsepower from just under a litre of displacement) four accelerates up the steep Majorcan coastline with no snatching, no spitting and barely a performance concession to the fact that it is barely above idle. Were this a Honda Gold Wing, no one would make a fuss about such civil behaviour — such behaviour is expected since its gargantuan 1,832-cc flat six is a natural for prodigious lowend grunt and its pliability part of touring legend.
But this is BMW’s S1000, the baddest, highest-revving superbike engine on the planet. Its 999-cc four-cylinder, Formula One-derived engine shocked the superbike world back in 2009 and still has the Japanese manufacturers, usually at the head of the superbike class, reeling.
To be sure, this is the new 160-horsepower single-R “naked” bike version of BMW’s colossus and not the 193-hp missile that powers the double-R superbike, but it is still an engine that screams frenetically to a 12,000 rpm redline. Rare enough are the engines that spin to 10,000 rpm; this one makes power over a 10,000 rpm span.
Anyone thinking that the S1000RR was a onedimensional powerhouse that, by design, could only thrive at high rpm needs to ride the R version.
Though those who buy bikes by spec sheet will likely complain about that 33-hp downgrade of the giantkilling original, methinks it’s a good thing. For one, as I said, it imbues the S1000R with instantaneous throttle response that makes wheelies a doddle (and, know this, wheelies may be “stunting” under many provincial laws, but the raison d’être for naked bikes is the enthusiastic, and frequent, lofting of the front wheel).
More pertinent, though, is the fact that the horsepower deficit is all at high revs (the R version is actually seven pound-feet stronger than the RR from 3,000 to 9,000 rpm, though its peak remains 86.2 pound-feet). Specifically, the single-R loses the doubleR’s final 12,000 rpm “kick” where the café racer slips in one final burst of megahorsepower insouciance on its way to making those aforementioned 193 horses.
That’s not a bad thing. Even with its meagre 160 ponies, the S1000R — thanks to its rearward weight bias caused by its naked-bike-mandated upright riding position — starts to get decidedly light in the front end when that screaming 999-cc four hits ten grand; it would be nigh on unmanageable if there were still another kick to come at 12,000 rpm.
Besides, for those hooligans who might be lamenting that the S1000 has been too tamed, rest assured that tractability doesn’t mean civility. Indeed, the S1000R’s engine remains just as insistent as the Double-R version, the highly-tuned engine nervously “hunting” on steady throttle as if it can’t quite believe anyone would bother riding it below 4,000 rpm.
BMW further tries to tame the R’s wayward ways by kicking out the frame’s steering angle 0.8 degrees and increasing the trail by five millimetres, both measures adding to the R’s 22-mm-longer wheelbase. All the changes are designed to render a little stability to what otherwise might be a hyperactive ride at high speeds. That said, despite the wide handlebar offering leverage, the rakedout front end does render the R’s steering heavier than the double-R’s and not quite as linear. Nonetheless, in comparison to anything other than an S1000RR, the R handles like a dream.
The resultant seating pos- ition, however, is comfy as a couch, the higher handlebar and slightly lower and further-forward foot pegs a tonic to those of us who suffer from wonky spines. The seat itself is also 40 mm lower to the ground despite being more generously padded than the RR’s perch. It all adds up to a bike more comfortable than a hyper-focused superbike but with most of its capabilities.
That’s also true of the S1000R’s electronics. In base form, the naked bike’s hightech handling enhancements are simpler than the RR’s, there being just two modes — Rain and Road — managing traction and the engine output. But, pony up $950 (on top of the $14,999 base price) for the Sports package and one gets a more sophisticated engine management package with Dynamic and Dynamic Pro (which offers minimal intervention and is definitely not for newbies).
As well, there’s another option, the Dynamic package (this time, an additional $775), which adds BMW Dynamic Damping Control (DDC). By flipping through the ABS switch, one can alter both front and rear suspensions between Soft, Normal and Hard damping settings, this last largely reserved for track use.
And, indeed, that’s the allure of the single-R version of BMW’s venomous S1000. It’s barely diminished as a track weapon and yet, thanks to the superior seating position and the sophistication of its (optional) suspension, it remains something you can commute on every day.
That’s the magic of the naked versions of superbikes and none do it better than BMW.