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.

Age. You forget things. That periodic table of elements I could merrily recite from memory down to the 60th element or so a few decades ago now sees me stuck at fifteen. Potassium, if I got that right.

And what with American liability law being what it is, with no one willing to accept responsibility for their actions, can you wonder about surgeons’ approach to tool management as a counterpoint to age? Each instrument is inventoried before and after the operation, in the hope that a scalpel, say, is not left inside the patient when he is sown up. I call this the ‘Surgeon’s Rule’.

This disciplined approach works every bit as well for this aging amateur mechanic, for while the risks are lower and the only person left to sue is yourself when you mess up, accounting for all your tools is no bad thing before exiting the hallowed workspace and flooring the throttle.

The wrench section on the peg board wall.

It is proper inventory management which has long seen me hang most of my tools from pegboards, believing that keeping them in drawers is exactly wrong. So forget those dreams of mega-buck SnapOn rolling tool chests. An utter waste of money. A tool you cannot see is a tool you mislay.

Further, those peg boards are white because not only are the stock brown ones depressing to contemplate, sucking light out of the workspace, white also sets the tools off nicely for ease of location.

The peg boards are attached to pine battens, the latter screwed into the wall studs behind the drywall, using a stud finder. That finder is like a politician, lying much of the time, but you get there eventually. The battens ensure that the whole thing is robust – tools can weigh a lot – and also provide offset from the wall for the hooks, once inserted.

Another dictate is that tools should never be stacked, as the one in the back will be every bit as lost as the one in that rolling cart’s tray. As the image shows I break this rule here and there, for lack of space, but overall it’s what you might style a solid effort.

That image speaks to a disciplined filing approach, if nothing else, yet the Surgeon’s Rule let me down the other day, because I failed to follow it. Check the red circle and there’s obviously a 19mm combination wrench missing. It is now to be found in one of my neighbors’ garages as it was left in place by yours truly when tightening the 19mm bolt on the crossbar which retains my old bike’s engine in the frame. I place one 19mm wrench on the left where it ‘locks’ against the exhaust pipe, then have at it on the other side to loosen the crossbar which allows the frame’s downtubes to separate ever so slightly, in turn making the oil filter cover accessible for removal. Not the greatest design by BMW, but not a big deal in the grand scheme of life.

I did not inventory my tools before riding around the neighborhood when the job was completed and later realized I had left the beautiful French Facom wrench in place when riding off. It fell off somewhere in the vicinity of my home and subsequent desperate searches (heck, any excuse for a ride) failed.

So I had to resort to this – mercifully Amazon stocks German Stahlwhille wrenches, if not the even more lovely French Facom ones:

The replacement.

So the rule here is to follow the Surgeon’s Rule religiously. And never, never, never buy cheap, imported tools. Real wrenches are made by Stahlwille and Facom. Yes, a few more dollars but a lifetime investment and one which will repay the premium paid every time you grasp that beautifully finished surface.

The hibernation is over.

Unlike grizzlies, BMW Airhead motorcycles hibernate in the summer, when it’s too darned hot to leave a vintage machine in a 130F greenhouse passing as a garage, here in Scottsdale, Arizona.

Back on May 1, 2020.

So with temperatures finally dipping back into single figures, it was time to get the 1975 BMW R90/6 out of its refrigerated comfort zone and back on the road. Where it belongs.

The Odyssey gel cell battery needed no recharging, having dropped from 13.11 volts to 12.97 volts. On the other hand, the tubed tires did need air, each having lost some 50% of the usual 32/36 pounds in pressure. Easy. Oil? No need to check. German motorcycles do not leak.

So a gallon of high test later – the tank had been drained before indoor storage – a prod or two on the kick starter to get oil to the piston rings, full choke just for the start, a touch on the electric starter button to get that huge, antique Bosch lump of a starter to do its bit, and off we go. Kicking those big twin 450cc pistons into life from cold is no fun. Electric starting is the way to go, introduced in Airheads in 1970.

Nothing, but nothing, beats two motorized wheels.