The BMW is on board.

Part II appears here.

Before attempting to mount my 1975 BMW R90/6 on the Handy lift, I installed two sets of longitudinal strips of 80 grit non-slip paper under the front rubber mat, spaced to match the front wheels on the lift, and long enough that they just protrude from the rubber mat, allowing correct positioning of the lift. The requirement is that the wheels of the lift bear on the non-slip surface through the rubber mat. The 240″ length of the roll is just right for six 40″ strips, as shown below:

Installing the 80 grit non-slip paper beneath the rubber mat.

This works perfectly. There is absolutely no slippage of the rubber mat when a machine is rolled onto the lift’s table and the rear rubber mat (see Part II) can be dispensed with.

Before rolling the BMW onto the table I popped off the gas tank – 2 gas lines, 2 thumbscrews and 2 minutes. Try that with any other bike. The weight savings is 30-50lbs. , all of it carried high up and adding unwanted moment of inertia in case the bike starts to tip when being rolled on. Just for luck I solicited my son to push the bike from behind while I got a good run at the ramp. In the event, I could have safely done this solo. With the front wheel in the vise, the two tie downs are installed, just enough to compress the front shocks a half-inch or so, and we are ready to work:

Raised, with tie downs in place.
Note that the rear wheel is positioned exactly over the removable, black panel at the rear.

As my first task is to remove the sump to replace a leaking gasket, I had to drain the engine oil, and with everything at eye height it really could not be simpler:

Draining the oil. The aftermarket MX deep sump holds 3 liters, 1 liter more than stock.

The deep sump cannot be easily removed with the center stand in place so the vise + tie downs approach is just what the doctor ordered.

You can see the lift in operation here:

I have read comments on chat boards from some users stating that the pedal makes excessive noise when releasing air in the down cycle. I have not found this to be the case, and the video, above, confirms my finding.

Conclusion:

My reaction after a couple days of getting familiar with this superb tool? The same as that of any lift buyer: “Why didn’t I get this earlier?”

Why the costly Handy? First, it’s made of thick gauge American steel by American workers. The Iowa factory has been making these for over half a century. It will not tip over or trip you with a base frame as there is none. And at 39″ maximum height it rises 10″ higher than most imports and that is a huge difference. The collapsed height, at 8″, is 1″ more than most of the competition, meaning a little more effort to push a bike up the ramp, the extra height possibly dictated by the rubber bellows. But countersinking this lift into your garage floor is not a good idea. Yes, it will be trivial to roll a bike on or off, but you will lose 8″ of elevation.

The Handy lift is unreservedly recommended for the amateur bike mechanic.

The first task:

On sunny days – we have only 350 of those in a bad year – I like to park the bike on the cement path in front of the home, easily accessible for the afternoon ride, and on display to the neighbors. That cement path shows any oil drips immediately, in the guise of ugly black stains, and such stains had started showing up recently. The cause was a leaking sump gasket, which was finally beginning to give up the ghost after 30 years on the job. The job requires removal of 14 M8 x 1.0 bolts after the oil is drained, a task made impossible by the center stand with the aftermarket deep oil sump I fitted 30 years ago. With the bike on the lift there is no need for a center stand, making those bolts readily accessible. Raising the table to the Handy lift’s full 39″ height places those bolts at a very comfortable height, and after a very leisurely hour or so I had the bolts removed and the sump pan popped off without the need for any persuasion:

Sump at left, trashed gasket at right.

The total absence of any oil sludge in the sump along with the absence of any metal shards in the residue testify to the diligence of regular oil changes during my 30 years of ownership and, indeed, the first 15 years with the original owner. The gasket is made of a paper composite impregnated with a heat sensitive material which helps it seal once the engine and oil are warm, so there’s no need to obsess about absolute planeness of the pan’s mating surface. Just for fun I measured this on a piece of glass and found that the sides were ever so slightly uneven, resulting in a 0.05″ gap. Insignificant, and not worth fixing given the new gasket’s pliability.

The key on reassembly is to use an accurate low range torque wrench to secure those 14 bolts. Hard steel bolts in soft alloy female threads are a recipe for disaster, and are easily over-torqued, resulting in a stripped thread in the engine block. I fastened these first by hand, then using a criss-cross pattern to 4 ft.lbs, using the torque wrench, then a second round with the torque wrench at 8 ft.lbs. That is not very much but it’s all that’s needed. Suffice it to say that the bike passed the cement path test with flying colors, denoted by an absence of any new stains after a vigorous ride. Yes, I cleaned up the old ones. ….

You want to do this job without a motorcycle lift? Good luck.

In Part IV I look at the modifications needed to an inexpensive automobile scissor jack which will allow the rear wheel of the motorcycle to be raised when it is on the motorcycle lift. The jack will also permit easy deployment of the center stand on the motorcycle when it is on the lift with the front wheel clamped in the lift’s vise.

Dry run.

Part I appears here.

While dropping my sweet little Honda PCX150 scooter would not make for a fun day, it beats dropping my classic BMW Airhead. Indeed, for anyone contemplating entry into the powered, two wheeled world, it’s hard to think of a better starter machine than the Honda, though you should be warned. This will only lead to bigger things.

So adopting the principle of gradual progression, I decided a dry run, placing the scooter on the Handy lift, made a lot of sense. And the process disclosed some issues.

First, the wretched, mottled epoxy floor in the garage is very slippery. As I tried pushing the scooter up the mounting ramp the whole lift proceeded to slide away. Not good. I placed wheel chocks under the front wheel, but to no avail. The same problem resulted. So I resorted to placing the legs of the lift on rubber mats and that, along with the chocks, did the trick. For added safety I will add some non-slip tape between the rubber mats and the epoxy floor coating.

You have to take a determined run at the ramp to get ‘over the hump’, as it were, and I had earlier measured the right size of a generous opening in the wheel vise to allow easy insertion of the front wheel. Once the wheel is in the vise, the left handlebar grip is held with the right hand and the locking handle on the grip is operated with the left. Pretty easy.

The Honda PCX150 scooter on the lift, here at 30″ height. 39″ is the maximum. The scooter weighs 295lbs.

As the instructions confirm, leaving a motorcycle on a lift without tie downs is unsafe, so to add suspenders to the belt, I attached tie downs. These have a 1500lb. (!) breaking strength, which should do the trick. You do not need much tension on them – just enough to slightly compress the front forks.

The Honda PCX150 scooter tied down – one tie down either side.

A set of four ran me $21 at Amazon. Operation is simple. The loose end of the strap is passed through the jaws of the ratchet and the handle is operated back and forth until the strap is taut. The Handy lift has built-in slots and holes to accommodate the hook on the tie down strap.

The ratchet mechanism on the tie down.
The ratchet release handle is in the center of the image.

To release the tie down strap, the ratchet mechanism has to be fully opened while pulling on the release lever/handle. Keep pulling on the release lever/handle. This disables the ratchet teeth and allows the strap to be pulled out. If the ratchet is not fully opened (flat) the strap cannot be pulled out.

Tomorrow I’ll look at installing my 1975 BMW R90/6 Airhead on the lift, in Part III.

The first task will be to drain the engine oil and remove the sump. After 45 years and 72,000 miles the gasket between the sump and the engine block has started weeping oil (just like a new British bike) and has to be replaced. There are no fewer than 14 retaining bolts (“Ve mek eet zis vey, und you vill like eet zis vey”) and, trust me, you really do not want to do this job without a motorcycle lift.

The ultimate tool.

Truth be told, the old knees are not what they used to be. A serious session of motorcycle maintenance means a morning after reminiscent of a good beating with a cricket bat. Or baseball bat, if you prefer. (I do not).

After the last such session I decided that I could either delegate maintenance tasks to the local Airhead specialist or get a motorcycle lift. As the average trip to that specialist runs $500 and up, cost recovery would not take long even for a premium priced American product, and I very much wanted to buy American made, not an import from the Far East.

As for paying up for American labor and steel, what’s your life worth? More importantly, what’s your bike worth? And with 30 years on my Airhead you could say we have formed something of an attachment.

Visit any professional bike mechanic’s workshop and the chances are you will find that the lift used is made by Handy Industries of Iowa. Yup. American labor, American steel.

The guys (and gals) at Handy, a division of Janco Industries.

For an excellent video review of the Handy SAM 1200 motorcycle lift click here. It’s what convinced me to buy one. The video is professionally produced, devoid of the puerile commentary and raucous music usually found on YouTube pieces, and written by an objective, dispassionate engineer. There is extensive comparison with earlier Handy lifts and also comments on the cheap imports out there. My review, which follows, is more focused on the user experience and also addresses related issues of how to prevent the lift sliding on a slick garage floor, how to use tie down straps and how to select, adapt and use a jack to raise the rear wheel for removal through the removable rear plate. If I disagree with one opinion stated in that video it is about the slots for tie down strap hooks which the reviewer does not particularly care for. I have found that they work perfectly. Like that reviewer, I have no connection, economic or otherwise, with the Handy’s makers, other than I paid with my own hard cash for one. The reviewer’s inspired idea of using a furniture dolly to move the collapsed lift is repeated in my narrative, below, and is entirely attributable to that reviewer.

There’s a reason Handy has been in the business since 1964. Parts availability is not an issue. The range is broad, and I settled on a pneumatic model, the SAM 1200, which uses rubber bellows, powered by your air compressor, to raise the lift table. This is the SAM 1200. The capacity is 1200lbs. which will make Harley riders happy; my 1975 BMW comes in at 435lbs. wet. Handy states it has tested this design to 25,000 cycles (I will be 178 years old by then) and it’s ingenious. Instead of a hydraulic cylinder the lift uses sturdy rubber bellows to raise the table, with an automatic mechanical locking device to retain the table in place. Air pressure is only used to raise the table. It is not the support mechanism when the table is in use. Mechanical locks do that. That is a safe approach.

While the Handy costs three times as much as the one at your local Harbor Freight, it’s safe (safer?), parts are available and, as I can now testify, the quality and finish are gorgeous. COVID has slowed production somewhat and it was some seven weeks between order and delivery. Communications were fluid and the lift arrived on schedule, just in time for the end of the furnace which is summer here in Scottsdale. Work in the garage during those summer months is out of the question.

The lift arrived on a wooden pallet with a total weight of 397lbs. 322lbs for the lift, which is fully assembled when shipped, 37lbs. for the massive wheel vise and the rest for packing materials. Another $20 for the truck driver saw him use an electric Toyota fork device to deposit the whole thing in the garage. It’s a real bear to move. Mercifully that Toyota electric lift was rated for 4400lbs!

As delivered. The vise is in the top box.

The vise is removed and then the pallet with the lift box tipped over through 180 degrees along the longitudinal axis. This places the legs at the top of the box. After removing the pallet, the box is opened and any internal strapping removed. An air hose is connected to the lift which causes the legs to rise, allowing leverage to be applied to the raised legs to tip the whole thing first on its side, then upright.

My son Winston models the lift. Vise in place is about to be bolted down –
10 provided nuts, lock washers and bolts. Phenolic wheels protect the floor’s finish.

Can one person do this? Just about, though it helps if he works out with Schwarzenegger. Two people make it easier. Soft rubber self-adhesive pads are separately provided and have to be stuck to the sides of the vise to prevent marring of wheels. The jolly red finish is an alternative to the standard grey, and is available at a small premium.

As is clear from the above image, the Handy lift uses a scissor leg design, with no base frame to trip on. This allows the use of a small furniture dolly to support the lift as it is ‘deflated’, and the legs will rise off the ground when the air bellows are fully evacuated. This makes for easy movement and storage in the garage. If you propose moving the lift with a motorcycle in place, I would recommend a far heavier duty dolly than the one I have linked.

The dolly is visible above. Movement of the 359lb. assembly is trivial.
When fully collapsed the legs are off the floor.

After some experience in use, I extended the central section of the dolly with a piece of pine and countersunk bolts, using a Forstner bit to cut the countersunk recess, for a plane cut surface. This allows the ends to protrude when the table is being collapsed, simplifying proper placement:

The load is still borne on the carpeted surfaces.

Both the removable rear panel – for wheel removal – and the removable sloping platform for bike installation are visible in the image above. The lift screams quality and the innovative design works well. I use a 20 gallon 5hp air compressor, a real beast, for inflation, but one with a smaller tank will work as well though you may need to recharge the tank part way through the lifting process. Handy states that 110lbs of pressure is the permitted limit. To avoid moisture build-up I use an in-line water filter, though the dry desert climate of southern Arizona is not really an issue when it comes to air borne moisture.

When additional worktop area is required for other tasks the lift can be raised to working height. The maximum height is 39″ and the table’s size is 84″ x 24″, with the sloping, removable loading ramp adding 30″.

Note the hollow square section of the right hand leg. You can insert a long steel pipe in there if additional stability is required with a really heavy, tippy bike mounted.

The air pedal for the lift.

Strangely, the air pedal for the lift is not marked Up/Down, though it’s easy to figure out looking at the connections. I’m forgetful so a simple line of white paint tells me which side is Up. The pedal comes with a female threaded socket for your air compressor hose, but I fitted a QD one to permit easy storage of the hose when not in use. In the image, the upper black hose provides air to the bellows while the lower connector is to the compressor. Handy has fitted compressed ceramic filters to the exhausts on the foot pedal, probably to counter complaints about exhaust noise. The noise levels are well below those dictating ear protection.

The lever which ensures that the pawl engages with the teeth welded to the underside of the table is here – I added the label:

The locking lever.

This lever has to be moved to the rear before lowering the table, which has to be raised a tad using air pressure to permit the change. That not only frees up the pawl, it also ensures that any air which has leaked is restored in the bellows before lowering. Without a full air load the table would come crashing down. When the table is fully retracted the lever resets to the ‘Up’ (forward) position. Nice. The red vinyl tell-tale cover, visible either side of the table, is too loose. A dab of 3M rubber cement takes care of that. A classic product, and one every mechanic should have at hand.

Here’s the parts diagram – the componentry is fairly simple:

Click the image for a larger version.

There are no fewer than 16 Zerk grease nipple fittings for regular lubrication service. The detent pawl (#23142) engages two racks of teeth which are welded to the underside of the table, and are not visible in the parts diagram. It is this system which confers mechanical restraint on the table to prevent it collapsing, the pawl engaging with successive teeth as the table is raised pneumatically.

More in Part II when I put the lift to use, and while my knees stage one final recovery from the unpacking process.

The furnace cools.

Our daytime highs in Scottsdale, Arizona have finally dipped under 100F after the hottest September on record. So it’s time to dust the old bike off, fire her up and get on the road. Early. When it’s still below 80F.

Sadly, the cooler weather also brings out the Deplorables, white trash on Harleys with loud exhausts and even louder stereos. But the Airhead rider needs none of these things to commune with machine and nature.

Click for the map.

Later, at the local Shell, it’s strictly 93 octane high test. While the compression ratio of the two valve, 900cc air cooled motor is a relatively modest 9.5:1, by modern standards, computerized ignition advance and knock sensors were but a far away dream in 1975 when the machine left the Berlin factory. Whack the throttle open at 4,000rpm and you will hear a ping or two from the motor as it protests your brutality. There’s really no call for that sort of behavior on a classic machine. Other than that, all is sweetness and light.

1975 BMW R90/6. 43.7mpg. 60hp. 93 octane.

iPhone11 Pro snaps.

An utter disaster.

It used to be the case that if you had awful taste, cared not one whit for good engineering and valued form over substance, that there was only one motorcycle which fit the bill.

That was Harley-Davidson, which continues to make some of the worst two wheeled powered machines on the planet. Massively overweight like its owner, poor reliability, loud and crass, made by proud American workers with their lank, greasy hair, AC-DC T shirts and beer bellies, the workers were much like the riders.

For the class end of the spectrum there were several choices. BMW, of course, but also Ducati and Moto Guzzi, the last two hailing from Italy. Maybe not as reliable as the many fine machines from the Big Four in Japan, and certainly costlier to acquire and maintain, they were beautifully engineered, did not leak or break down that often, and you would get to enjoy the company of like minded fellow riders without the need for broken beer bottles and bar fights.

Then around the turn of the century BMW decided they would target the cruiser crowd and came out with a porker named the R1200C. They even had Pierce Brosnan ‘ride’ one in a Bond 007 movie, manacled to a beautiful accomplice, no less. Must have made for tough clutch operation, what with his left hand tied up like that, but at least she knew her place, which was (mostly) on the back of the bike. Sporting a detuned 1200cc version of the air and oil cooled boxer motor, they sold about ten of these in the US and the bike was quickly – and rightly – forgotten. Overweight, underpowered and with enough chrome to make an H-D owner take notice, the bike was an utter disaster.

R1200C + Brosnan in riding gear.

But BMW was determined not to learn from its folly and is now releasing an even worse example, if that is at all possible, of the R1200, the R18. Think of it as an R1200C with ccs and avoirdupois added.

A brief table of data, comparing the r18 with my air cooled 1975 R90/6 tells all you need to know:

45 years of progress. A not so pretty comparison.

It’s the red statistics which jump out at you. Weighing almost twice as much the engine, also twice the size in the new machine, produces 25% less horsepower per liter – and this with every electronic gizmo known to man with fuel injection thrown in, while the chassis sports an unmanoeuverable wheel base some 10″ longer. And they want $20,000 in bare form for this monstrosity, which means $25,000 out the door.

As for fit and finish, any H-D owner would be proud. Just look at the atrocious onion peel paint finish on the tank:

American quality paint finish.

They did it just a tad better in 1975:

My 1975 R90/6.

To add insult to injury, the lovely pinstripes emulating the original machine (mine!) will only be available in the 2020 model year. Assuming there is a 2021 model – doubtful – pinstripes will likely add $2,000 to the price.

Anyway, for poseurs who cannot ride and have to stop for both filling and new fillings after the 100 mile tank is on reserve, this could be just the bike for you. You see, the 4,000 rpm sweet spot coincides with the worst vibes. By design. But frankly, at that price I would prefer a Harley and would likely have enough left over for a tattoo or two. $2k less, same vibration and a heart with an arrow through it on my bicep. Just the thing.

Cycle World does its level best to find something good to say about this abomination here. Read. Weep.