Exclusive 1500-mile UK test of BMW’s gargantuan new R18. They say it’s a cruiser – but it actually a lot more than that?
Five mountain passes and 1500 miles get to the heart of the mighty R18
Sorry BMW, but the R18 is no cruiser. What it is instead is a giant, ridiculous naked motorcycle and, between you and me, it’s really rather good. To find out what the R18 was all about, I took it on the Great Malle Rally. A self-guided road trip that saw me ride 1500 miles with 50 other riders, setting out from the very southern tip of the UK at Lizard Point in Cornwall, up through Wales, the Peak District, the Lake District and the Scottish Highlands, finally finishing at John O’Groats having endured almost every weather event possible. Not quite right First things first then; let’s examine why it’s not a cruiser. Well for a start it doesn’t have cruise control. I mean, the clue is right there in the name. Quite why something billed as a being ideal for cruising, doesn’t come with a tool that’s ideal for cruising is beyond me. Then there’s the suspension: for cruising it’s simply not comfortable enough. When I sit on a cruiser, I want to imagine myself gliding down Venice Beach in absolute luxury, not bouncing along a potholed A406. I also want to stretch out, footboards and all, not slot in behind a motor like I’m on the lav. There’s also no fuel range reading, or even a fuel gauge, so you can never quite cruise in a relaxed fashion, because you’re not quite sure how much cruising is left. Finally, the keyless ignition is finicky at the best of times, and doesn’t operate the tank or the steering lock. Nope, sorry, riding the R18 is far from a cruising experience. So if we forget all the cruiser pretensions, and think of it instead as, say, a giant R nineT – well then we’re getting somewhere. Motoring on The real centrepiece of the bike, both literally and figuratively, is the new 1802cc boxer engine. BMW have worked hard to make it look classic, with the pushrods over the top of the cylinders, while also using modern engineering to keep it clean
– such as putting the fuel injectors in the head rather than in the throttle body. The result is a really amazing piece of machinery that can’t help but draw the eye. Every time you sit on it and glance down, your eyes are sucked in by the huge cylinders and pistons bouncing around. Performance figures are pretty much on the money compared to the competition (with 89bhp and 117lb.ft). That might not sound like a lot from such a big engine, but 110lb.ft is available between 2000 and 4000rpm, which is where you do 95% of the riding. Tackling twisty roads is simply a case of leaving it in third, and letting it pull from 30mph right into the naughty numbers. It makes riding the R18 totally effortless, despite the fact it’s pulling along 345kg. The gearbox is well spread out too and surprisingly slick for a boxer, snicking into gears well and just about smooth enough for clutchless shifts.
One minor complaint needs to be levelled at the gear lever, which sits a little too close to the sidestand when it’s up and I found I sometimes caught my foot on it when attempting a downshift. The bike’s also a little too quiet. I know noise regs are tough, but the sound of the R18 was regularly drowned out by riding companions on R nineTs with standard exhausts. On sound alone, you’d have no idea it was a hulking great 1800cc twin. Bouncing around The next biggest attention-grabber sits at the back. Styled to look like the R5 from way back in the 1930s, the engine puts its power down through an exposed shaft drive, which runs into a bevel box that’s locked into a ‘soft tail’ cantilever rear-end. The result is astonishing, although you never get the joy of watching it spin yourself. BMW promise that it’s well-sealed enough to shrug off all the elements and that despite its outward appearance, it’s no more dangerous than your standard drive chain. In truth the cantilever works
‘Leave it in third and it’ll pull from 30mph to the naughty numbers’
well and while some shaft jacking is noticeable, especially on very aggressive downshifts, it’s not enough to be concerned about. It’s also worth it on looks alone. Holding that cantilever in the air is a preload adjustable rear shock, which offers 90mm of travel from its perch under the seat. That does mean the seat has to come off if you want to adjust the suspension, but again, that is a price worth paying for the clean look. Besides, keep that single seat on and it will never be a problem.
Out on the road, the suspension as a whole is on the firm side with the damping far better suited to getting on with it, than dawdling along. It does crash over bigger bumps, potholes and the like, but it’s no kidney-bruiser. The front-end feels more progressive but that’s because there’s 30% more suspension travel to play with. Head for the hills Where the R18 seems to make the most sense is if you ride it like a giant R nineT (MCN250 road test, p25). Pay no heed to the weight, length or limited ground clearance and you’ll have an absolute riot. Fire it into a corner, haul on the brakes, shuttle it round scraping the pegs then unleash the beast. I spent the vast majority of my riding time with folks on Bonnevilles, Thruxtons, R nineTs, Buells and even a Street Triple. With the exception of riding up Hardknott Pass (which it managed admirably, by the way) they never had such a great advantage so as too clear off into the distance. On the flowing A-roads of Wales and Scotland, it was in its element and for corner after corner I was left with an immovable grin. The electronics are more than clever enough to keep up with anything you can throw at them too, which means you can ride it without a care in the world.
That said, the electronic aids aren’t perfect: anything other than the awkardly-named Rock (the equivalent of Sport mode) feels lacklustre, while the Hill Start Control appears to be the older stuttering version, not the new slick version fitted to the latest R1250GS. But for general enthusiastic riding they’re faultless and the traction
‘Ride it like a giant R nineT and you’ll have a blast’
control saved me in the wet on at least one occasion.
While I’m on the electronics there’s also the matter of the reverse gear. Now this might seem like a total gimmick but I ended up using it two or three times a day. Selected with a fun little lever on the side of the gearbox, it runs the starter motor in reverse to winch you out of any tight spots you find yourself in. While my riding friends were breaking into sweats scrabbling around in gravel car parks, I coolly wafted backwards then pulled away. Gold Wings have had it for years and it’s genuinely worth every penny. The price is fright I suppose at some point we need to talk about money. The First Edition model (which is the only one available at the moment) costs £18,995, which gets you some pinstriping and fancy chrome bits over the standard model. The heated grips, reverse, adaptive headlight, alarm, locking filler cap, Hill Start Control are all extras. That means this one as you see it here costs a staggering £20,945, which is a serious amount of money however you look at it.