Popular Mechanics (South Africa)
BMW R18: Cruiser of the future, now
BMW’s R18 cruiser seems absurdly late to market, and does a 1 800 cc, 345 kg leviathan make any sense in this day and age? PM took a closer look.
BMW MOTORRAD’S raison d’être has always been touring, touring, touring, either on- or off-road. Exceptions aside (the nutty S 1000 RR springs to mind), Markus Schramm’s team has served up clinical, superbly engineered continent flatteners for close on 50 years, epitomised by the ReiseTourer boxer road bikes (RT) and the Gelände/Straße off-road stalwarts (GS).
THE REASONING
Why, then, introduce a giant, lowriding cruiser, more Milwaukee than Berlin? The answer, in a phrase, is new markets. BMW’s recent retro obsession boils down to a desire to capture a younger, hipster market. Faced with a saturated touring market
(of mostly older, white men), the marketing gurus suggested a fusing of BMW history and the current vogue for all things retro. First were the so-called naked bikes, the R nineT range – emotive machines conjuring up the marque’s own halcyon days of the R27 back in 1967, recalling the Fonda/Dean years of no limits, no responsibilities and boundless freedom. Add the inherent style of the 1960s, mix in a dollop of German technology, and Bob’s your Bavarian uncle – a new market and a jump in sales.
Next, is this – the affluent urban-weekender market, dominated by cruisers rather than café racers, mostly HarleyDavidsons – mobile middle fingers from a tribe of surrendered baby boomers who are weighed down by responsibility, spreadsheets and entitled teenage children.
Into this demanding ring steps Roland Sands’ leviathan R18: layers of cutting-edge technology clothed in a suit of BMW history, aiming to steal market share from Milwaukee’s Fat Boy.
THE BIKE
Smart marketing, sure, but what of the bike itself? It’s a curious animal; a homage to a bygone era, engineered for today, working hard to hide its tomorrow tech. Think new MINI or VW Beetle, the nostalgic packaging of a dream. The inspiration, suggests BMW, was Rudolf Schleicher’s iconic 1936 R5, a sports bike that introduced a number of firsts to motorcycling. The R18 takes design elements from that pioneer (the teardrop tank; the thin, white, double paint line around the tank; the front telescopic shock cover; the spoked wheels) but adds a plethora of futuristic touches, such as rear suspension (hidden though it is). Imagine that, 135 km/h back then and no rear suspension.
The double-cradle frame was state-of-the-art in 1936, as was the revolutionary idea of a telescopic fork and footoperated gear changes.
But mostly, it’s about that engine. It’s a monster, no question – easily BMW’s biggest – a whopping
1 802 cc, producing 67 kW and, wait for it, 158 Nm of torque, most of it available at 2 000 rpm. To put that into context, a 1 400 cc VW Polo makes 132 Nm at 3 600 rpm. Stay with the Big Twin, a lumberjack wearing its butchness on its sleeve. It’s a Boxer with 107 mm pistons, longitudinally mounted, making use of pushrods rather than overhead cams, which means the two protruding pushrod tunnels are enormous, and valve covers are equally huge. What that means is the engine is physically and emotionally front and centre. ‘See me, see my muscle.’ There’s really been no attempt at minimising the traditional boxer twin protuberance. Actually, quite the opposite.
‘Now/then’ design contradictions abound. The cutting-edge LED headlight in a retro Cyclops design. Look behind the block and check out that exposed rear driveshaft. Notice the digital strip in the analogue speedometer, or the current BMW badge attached with retro-looking screws (they weren’t allowed to use the older propeller badge), and the apparent absence of any rear-suspension unit (it’s hidden to evoke R36 memories). And then there’s that bloated Popeye’s pecs fishtail exhaust, not a thing of great beauty, but necessary, says BMW, to appease the Euro emissions white-coat brigade. At the launch, it was diplomatically suggested that the R18 would be heavily customised and likely the exhaust would end up on the workshop floor, replaced with something more streamlined (and prettier). Money on the table that the next-gen R18 features something less comical.
THE RIDE
Sit astride the 345 kg monster and the first thing you notice is that the foot pegs are in line with your knees, rather than further forward, as is traditional for cruisers. That massive, longitudinally placed
Boxer puts paid to stretched legs. Will it matter? We’ll see how traditional the market turns out to be. Hit the starter button and there’s noticeable drama; bringing a mammoth twin to life always involves a degree of violence as the crankshaft gets to work. With the R18, it’s theatre indeed; the idling bike resembles nothing so much as an enraged rhino, alive, jiggling, contemplating evil intent. Not that it sounds the part. Again, Euro 5 regulations mean the standard bike snorts rather than bellows
(75 dB in EU drive-by tests and a peak of 95 dB). That’ll change once the regulation pipes come off, naturally.
Pull in the slip-assist clutch (simple), snick it into gear (super simple), ease away, and the size and weight evaporate as the speed rises. Low centre of gravity, good manoeuvrability. It’s immediately clear you’re astride a Beemer rather than a Hog; the mechanics are precision-engineered – clutch, gear, and brakes – an effortless, synchronised dance. Less Germanic, however, is the ride, which, thanks to that hidden rear suspension, is on the hard side. With only 90 mm of travel and no linkage, that’s unsurprising; the horizontally placed single ZF Sachs shock can only absorb so much abuse and, on pothole-laden back roads, things get uncomfortable. Swings and roundabouts – it looks properly retro and that’s the price BMW is prepared to pay for the classic R36/cruiser profile.
The next realisation is that Berlin need not have bothered with a sixspeed box. The prodigious torque means a four-speed would have sufficed, three even. As it is, you end up skipping gears, both on take-off and as you work through the ratios. Two, four, six, basically, every time.
An hour later, other understandings: Don’t underestimate the torque and be thankful for a) dry conditions, and b) BMW’s bespoke traction-control system, with its three ride settings. Roll is the default everyday cruise mode, Rock is the sports mode (don’t try this in the wet) and Rain, which limits power to that fat rear 180/ 65/B16 Michelin. Certainly when
It’s a homage to a bygone
era, engineered for today, working hard to hide its tomorrow
tech.
things do get inclement, Rain mode, working alongside the anti-slip MSR feature, is essential, even on the relatively small throttle openings.
Two hours out, more learning: The easily removable fairing on the R18 Classic may well be a good idea. The ‘naked’ R18 is aimed at short-hop weekender types, but the bike is perfectly suited to highway rides (2 350 rpm at 120 km/h), except that the lack of a screen makes for uncomfortable high-speed riding, as much because of body wind resistance as actual riding position. We also suggest you tick the reverse-gear option. Manhandling 345 kg of Berlin’s finest up even a slight incline is next to impossible. Trust us.
VERDICT
Brilliant or brainless? Neither, ultimately. The R18 is a BMW and the essence of the brand is non-negotiable competence – which the R18 most certainly is. What it lacks is character, looks and perceived heritage notwithstanding. Despite HarleyDavidson’s explicit attempts to modernise, a Fat Boy remains the manifestation of its quirky, recalcitrant, nonconformist manufacturer. The R18 dabbles in badass, but errs on the side of caution every time. Is that a bad thing? Not to BMW aficionados who value reliability, logic and quality, but will it be enough to swing image-conscious Hog buyers? Time will tell.