BMW R1250GS TE
Who’d have thought that a belching old flat twin with strange suspension would be so popular? As the iphone, Costa and Netflix of modern biking it’s still the bike the others need to beat
‘The GS delivers a superb dynamic despite being a freakish oddball’
What was the UK’S best-selling bike last year? The BMW R1250GS Adventure. And in second place? That’d be the regular model of the GS, pipped by its more large-tank sibling by just 71 units. Add together these two GS variants, and BMW registered twice as many bikes as the Honda Africa Twin, KTM Super Adventure and Ducati Multistrada 1260 combined. Saying it’s the UK’S favourite adventure device is like referring to Samuel Smiths’ eight-percent Yorkshire Stingo ale as quite strong. There’s more to the BMW’S runaway success than the lingering impact of Mcgregor and Boorman or a desire of buyers to be one of the crowd. It is simply an exceptional motorcycle. ‘I love the way so much of the GS is so evolved, how any rough edges have been smoothed off over 40 years of development,’ says John after an effortless romp across yet another breathtaking hillside. ‘The engine feels remarkably refined, and I’d forgotten what a monstrous midrange it has – there’s so much wallop available from 3000rpm that even marginal overtakes never need a downshift. Just twist and blast. The screen is quiet and easy to adjust, the seat comfy and the riding position cock-on, and low-speed balance is peerless. It’s a fabulously comfortable and capable way to cover miles.’ For me, perhaps the most attractive thing about the Beemer is how it delivers this genuinely superb dynamic despite being a freakish oddball. The imposing GS has got a deeply unfashionable engine configuration, unusual feel from its load-separating Telelever front suspension and a curious floaty rear end, plus looks best described as ‘striking’. Yet it’s been the benchmark for performance, handling, ride and usability for as long as anyone can be bothered to try and remember. And, as John points out, in many areas the 1250 is still the standout bike – none of the others give its sense of immediate torque, instil such confidence when lost down rutted back lanes, or give the impression of being capable of unstoppable progress. And that’s the other thing about the GS. Tell me I’ve got to turn off the road right now, head as the crow flies to Abergavenny and, as a flapping and windmilling off-road failure, I’d take the Africa Twin Adventure Sport for its slender build, ditch-crossing 21-inch front wheel and absorbent long-travel suspenders. However, if I were to pick one of these bikes for a genuine round-the-world exploration then it’d be the BMW, hands down. None of the rivals here give the same sense of rugged engineering, bombproof construction, or that they could run perfectly sweetly on 50-octane dishwater in the middle of somewhere bleak that you’ve never heard of.
However, while we can all clearly see the fabulous abilities of the 1250 and understand why it’s the go-to large adventure bike, the rampaging opposition has narrowed the gap in lots of areas. And in some places it’s edged ahead. The Ducati and KTM are both livelier and handle with a lighter touch on fast roads, and the Honda’s plush suspension can make the Telelever seem a little slappy. John finds the 1250’s gearshift action is the lumpiest, to the point where he doesn’t think it has a two-way quickshifter (it has), and is driven to distraction by the dash, switchgear and connectivity. ‘BMW haven’t quite cracked the whole sat-nav thing,’ he grumbles. ‘After trying to download a route, I’ve ended up with one version on the screen via the BMW app, another version on the BMW Garmin box and considerable confusion in my brain. Now the TFT is suggesting ways to change the route, but which is it on about? The whirly wheel on the left ’bar operates both screens and I’m losing the will to live.’ There’s something else about the BMW. My esteemed colleagues don’t mention it, but for me the big GS can sometimes be a tad too… well, GS. Most of the time I love its burping motor and filthy exhaust note, the wide-barred stance and surreal isolated ride. But there are occasions when I just want to turn it all down a little bit. The BMW sees off the three-and-a-half-hour evening ride back to my modest East Midlands dwelling efficiently and in comfort, and with a stress-free ride that the edgier KTM and less polished Harley couldn’t match. But I know the ride would be even smoother, calmer and more refined on the Ducati.
Cards face up on the table. I really, really want the new Harley-davidson Pan America 1250 Special to be good, to feel… well, special. I like how a bike, so far removed from what we expect of Harley, stands wheel-to-wheel with the class hardhitters on torque, power, spec and tech. I love how, by having strong brand identity, the Pan America looks like nothing else in the market – it’s not a clone of the BMW or an American version of the KTM. Perhaps most of all, I’m impressed by its attention-grabbing price. Harley position themselves as a premium outfit and even their cheapest bike – the decidedly basic Softail Standard cruiser – costs thirteen grand. Yet the brand-new 94.4 lb.ft, 148bhp, variable-valve V-twin Pan America 1250 with cornering rider aids, colour TFT, connectivity and umpteen modes starts at just £14,000. Go for this Special and you also get lights that shine around bends, semi-active suspension, hot grips, tyre monitoring, bash plate, centrestand and steering damper for £15,500. That’s cheaper than everything here apart from the KTM. Add the unique optional adaptive ride height for £600 and the Pan Am still undercuts the R1250GS in the spec we have here by more than five grand. It’s enough to make the most sceptical suck air past their teeth. And you know what? The Harley is a good bike. Very good, in fact. ‘It makes a positive impression straightaway,’ notes Hugo. ‘It’s an effortlessly whooshy engine and the chassis delivers neutral handling with a stable, planted, secure feel. Modes are easy to switch between
and appreciably different, the seat is broad and comfy, controls are all pretty intuitive, the heated grips are easy to use and effective, and its mirrors are good at motorway speed.’
Though the portliest bike here by nine kilos the Harley swings about easily, especially as the riding position has a curious familiarity despite being a spanking-fresh model. It’s an easy bike to feel comfortable and confident on. Showa’s semi-active suspension gets on with its job unnoticed, with five settings (comfort, balanced, sport, off-road soft and off-road firm) that are linked to the riding modes. Unsurprisingly it’s ‘balanced’ that gives the finest mix of control and comfort on sinuous Welsh roads, and with the engine in its full power setting the Pan Am can be hustled with composure, reassurance and pace. This bike boasts the optional height-altering gizmo. Come to a stop and, like one of those easy-access city-centre buses, the 1250 drops down to make it easier to touch the floor and get on or off. It’s so subtle that we waste ages going through all the data on the large touchscreen dash to see if it’s actually fitted, before realising dropping a foot would reveal all. I’m 6ft 2in and on the move can brush a toe on the road, but at standstill the H-D sneakily lowers itself so that I sit flat-footed with knees slightly bent. How extremely ruddy clever.
‘At standstill it sneakily lowers like an easy-access city-centre bus’
Distance and back-to-back miles show the Pan Am isn’t quite as rounded as more accomplished rivals. Though peak torque arrives at an accessible 6750rpm the Harley hasn’t the instant roll-on punch of the GS, and despite identical gearing with 70mph from 4000rpm in top (sixth), it feels buzzier. No quickshifter either. The Pan Am also can’t equal the ace low-speed handling of the BMW, nor the KTM’S sporting flickability – it feels longer from headstock to seat than the others and a little less pointy. It hasn’t the Honda’s supple ride or the Ducati’s polished refinement either. Bike’s art bloke Paul Lang also reckons it has the weakest brakes. Hugo does most of the damp, dusk, 175-mile slog home on the H-D, the sort of ride a bike like this should take in its stride. ‘The screen is noisy and jammed in its highest position. I’ve de-jammed it so one-hand adjustment is again possible, but it’s no less loud in any of the other positions. Switchgear buttons are small, making for fumbling, and I use the cruise control less than I want on the M42 because I’m not comfortable with the speed adjustment. The high beam switch is easy to accidentally activate too, especially when you’re fruitlessly fumbling with the screen adjuster…’ I said the Harley is a very good motorcycle, and I stand by it. But some of its rivals aren’t just good, they’re brilliant.