In 1972, I began turning wrenches at BMW Motorcycles of Cambridge,
Massachusetts, a European-style urban dealership where I cut my teeth
as a professional technician. At the time, my only transportation was
an R50/2 – a dangerously slow vehicle in the aggressive city traffic.
Until I installed an R75/5 engine and transmission, that is, at which
point it became dangerously fast. In those days, the R90S represented
for me the prohibitively-expensive but ultimately-cool pinnacle of
German motorcycle engineering. “Ya-vohl, ve have vays of making you
luff this bike.” As received, the red R90 now in the
RetroTours stable had a Luftmeister fairing, engine guards and
saddlebags, and a stock American-spec handlebar. I sold these items off
to help finance The Resurrection, and soon fitted shiny new Euro-bars
and cables. Fresh tires, rear shocks, wheel bearings and a thorough
tune up were next, followed by fitment of a factory-optional steering
damper. The missing tool kit was replaced (a pretty major item on an
old BMW), and a persistent base-gasket leak was corrected by turning
the cylinder base on a lathe. More recently, the machine began to
realize its full potential with the installation of dual sparkplugs in
the heads, fired by a new electronic ignition which replaced the old
breaker points. As a bonus, sometime in the foggy past, the front end
had been replaced with the dual-disc setup from an R90S, and the
optional factory six-gallon fuel tank fitted. As a whole, this
motorcycle is an impressive package, and not far removed from the more
collectible, but possibly less practical, R90S. Everything about
the BMW is “different” -- but It Works, having been refined from a
design originating in 1926. For instance, the bike starts with an
electric boot, supplemented by a transverse
kick starter – awkward but very useful when an old battery gets weak.
The early style four-speed transmission has wide, evenly-spread ratios
that leverage the engine’s table-flat torque curve, but shifting must
be slow and deliberate – only true finesse is rewarded with clunk-free
gear changing. At real-world riding RPM’s, the engine is
turbine-smooth, with the perfect primary balance and excellent air
cooling more than offsetting the extra width of the boxer engine. The
feeling while underway is just heavenly, with a great seat/peg/bar
layout that balances the rider against the airflow at travel speed.
It’s as though nothing could ever stress this 900cc twin as it eats up
miles more like a low-flying classic aircraft than a primitive surface
vehicle. Simplified maintenance and great accessibility are also
designed into those big horizontal jugs -- it is possible to not only
adjust the valves but to remove a connecting rod using only
the on-board toolkit, although the BMW’s legendary reliability makes
the need unlikely. The stout, shaft-type final drive eliminates chain
chores and potential breakage, at the small cost of requiring smooth
throttle action in corners. Competence is the single best word to
describe the R90 -- whether logging 600-mile highway days, carving up
canyon twisties, or even exploring down a bumpy jeep road. The relaxed
engine character complements a fairly amazing suspension system, with a
rigid, well-damped front fork and Koni Dial-a-Ride rear shocks
providing wheel travel comparable to motocross
bikes of the same era. Compared to its contemporaries, the Beemer just
seems to laugh at the bumps, soaking them up and asking for more. No
wonder road-dirt-encrusted world travelers have so often chosen the BMW
flat twin. Could the rumored superiority complex of many BMW owners be
justified? |