No more overheating.

The BMW airhead may have been more than happy on the frozen Russian front in 1942, but an Arizona garage is no place for an old bike in the summer.

Daytime highs here often reach 110F meaning that, along with the greenhouse effect, the garage gets to 130F. That’s murder on rubber and batteries and while I do not care much about the cars, another summer in that garage would see lots of rubber parts being replaced on the old bike.

I decided to move the machine to air conditioned luxury for the four hot summer months and with my son tugging mightily on the luggage rack we managed to wrestle the 425lb. beast indoors, after first draining the tank.

In the lap of luxury. My 1975 BMW ‘Airhead’.

Oil leaks? Nah, not a problem. This is not a British bike.

iPhone 11Pro snap, UWA lens, with LR distortion correction profile.

This is as good as life gets.

The two costliest repairs I have suffered on my 1975 BMW R90/6 ‘airhead’ have been replacement of stripped nylon gears in the totally mechanical instruments – the drive is by gear and cables. Some genius in Munich decided a nylon gear beats the 2 cents costlier brass alternative used through 1969, and both stripped. He was probably British, and formerly worked on Triumphs. The tach gave out at 60,676 and the speedo joined it in sympathy at 61,724. If the needle goes crazy, the gear is stripped. If it just jerks about then a new cable is called for, the Teflon liner being worn out. The last thing you want in that cable is lubricant, which will only hasten its demise.

The work was done by Palo Alto Speedometer – unreservedly recommended. I used to use them on my old MB’s instruments also – but at $300 a pop they are not cheap.

A properly tuned air cooled BMW boxer twin is happiest at 4,000-5,000 rpm. Many owners ride these at far lower revs, constraining proper oiling and doing awful things to the crankshaft. It does well to remember that Germans only understand one thing – a strong hand at the tiller. Subtlety has no part in their make up. And, by the way, not only is the tach needle as stable as can be, given the early Industrial Revolution technology, the speedometer is also dead accurate.

iPhone 11 Pro, UWA optic.

Time for a new rear tire.

Taking a rest.

Do not try this with a modern motorcycle, My nephew, who has the misfortune to ride a modern, high tech rice burner, writes: “If I were to do that with my bike, I would have $3,000 of plastic to replace.”

My hard working 1975 BMW R90/6 actually does give a nod to the world of tech. It has exactly one purely electronic part, in addition to the usual collection of electro-mechanical relays. It’s a $1 diode which, naturally, failed last year. Its purpose is to permit use of the electric starter with the bike in gear, when the clutch lever is pulled in, should you stall at a red light. Not something I would ever do, you understand.

With this shaft driven masterpiece, rear wheel removal – a new tire is dictated – is a matter of removing one axle nut, loosening one axle pinch bolt, removing the gas tank and draining the carbs. That all takes five minutes. Then, ably assisted by my son, who is home for the holidays, she’s tipped onto the right cylinder and passenger foot peg, the axle is pulled and the wheel lifts right out. I’m too old to replace my tires at home, so it’s off to the local grease money and $25 and a few minutes later all is done, with no garage language required.

New British Avon AM26 tire in place. It pleases me no end to use a fine British tire on a German motorcycle.

In the desert.

Before the rumble.

Not disclosed in this image is the violent aftermath, the result of my pointing out to the pig riding the Harley that his machine was 90% made of Chinese steel. The other 10% is the Japanese parts. He took umbrage and I had to lay out his 400lbs of blubber using nothing more than my bare fists. Real Men do not need tire irons.

iPhone 11 Pro snap.