Bmw R1150gs
BMW R1150GS
CYCLE WORLD TEST
More punch for the dirty Boxer
GOD’S VOICE THUNDERED ACROSS THE OWENS Valley, reverberating off the Sierras and filling the narrow, two-track sandwash with His presence. What our crack tester couldn’t figure out was the bad, Hollywood German accent He was using.
"Vaht ah you, schtupid?"
Must have been the magnesium burn of the highnoon sun. It was a dry heat, the mercury hovering near 100 degrees, and there was a brand-new, fully laden BMW R1150GS lying upside-down in the sand, miles from the highway. Heat waves rose from the earth, as well as the one visible cylinder, which angled like a mortar roughly skyward. Ten attempts to clean-and-jerk the 600-plus-pound machine back onto its wheels-all while dressed in the equivalent of a sleeping bag and styrofoam cooler-had taken its toll. And he-not He-was exhausted.
God’s question was valid, though, if only the product of a heat-induced hallucination. The answer was straightforward: “No, not stupid, just looking for a little...adventure.”
The RI 150GS, like its predecessors, is the kind of bike that seduces you into continuing on in spite of your best judgment or the questionable terrain ahead. “Just go!” it says. The latest generation is bigger (both in terms of size and displacement) and more complicated than the previous models, yet the spirit of adventure is the same as on the R80G/S that started it all.
“When the G/S originally debuted in 1980, what people saw was a giant dirtbike,” says a BMW spokesman. “It took a while, but people eventually figured out that it was a touring bike to take you anywhere, a bike that said destination.”
Some 70,000 people liked the aircooled, two-valve OS’s vocabulary, and 45,000 more learned the lingo following the introduction of the air/oil-cooled, four-valve, cam-in-head R1100GS in 1995.
The new-for-the-millennium RI 150GS is the latest iteration of the venerable adventure-tourer, and its notable cosmetic and mechanical alterations are the result of what BMW calls a “mid-life freshening” of the design.
The most obvious change concerns the styling. Some people thought our testbike was pretty in a Steffi Graf sort of way: athletic and interesting, but that nose! In any case, the winged snout/upper fender is different in that it’s now integrated into the fuel tank; the wings, BMW says, are intended to produce stabilizing downforce at speed. (Who’s to argue? It was stable as a rock all the way to its buck-fifteen top end.) To relate the bike more closely to the newest generation of Boxers such as the sporty RI 100S, the headlights got the raised-brow, asymmetrical treatment, with a large low-beam and small high-beam.
But it’s the technical “freshening” that will get a gearhead’s wheels turning. In what amounts to your basic parts-bin hop-up, the flat-Twin’s displacement was bumped up from 1085 to 1130cc via 2mm-larger (101mm bore) cylinders from the R 1200C cruiser. Lighter magnesium valve covers from the 1100S (with standard-issue tip-over guards) cap off the larger jugs, and new cams were tossed in to suit. There’s also a new, catalyst-equipped, stainless-steel exhaust system. Styled to recall Beemers of old, this employs twin pipes that arc under their respective cylinders, joined by a cross pipe and feeding a new, upswept silencer. The latest Bosch engine-man agement system is used; hot or cold, there was nary a hiccup from idle to redline.
BMW thankfully tossed the old five-speed gearbox and replaced it with a six-speed unit similar to that of the RI 100S. First through fifth gears are now more closely spaced than on the old GS, while sixth is the mother of all overdrives. Gearbox action is worlds ahead of what it used to be, though downshifting from sixth (or “E” as it’s called on the cockpit display) to fifth can beat the dogs if you aren’t quick and positive with your toe. And beating your dogs isn’t nice.
While the GS and S share the same basic engine and transmission, the GS makes do without the S’s twin-spar top frame. Instead, as on all other late-model Boxers, its engine forms the main “frame,” while front and rear subframes support the steering head and seat. To cope with the rigors of off-roading, the GS’s transmission cases were beefed-up, and twin aluminum castings tie the tranny to the rear subframe, while reinforcing the swingarm pivot and locating the footpegs. The new transmission cases also were made longer to house the extra gear, so the Paralever swingarm (which pivots therein) was shortened .6-inch in an effort to retain the old wheelbase. Even so, at 59.2 inches between axles, our test 1150 measured .2-inch longer than the 1100 we tested in ’95.
In spite of the engine changes, however, the CW dyno recorded only nominal increases in peak torque and horsepower output. The real story is torque spread: The new, bigger engine pokes above 60 foot-pounds at just 2900 rpm-an increase of 10 ft.-lbs. at that engine speed-and pretty much stays there until 7250 rpm, bettering the old bike’s torque curve everywhere.
Unfortunately, any performance gain this newfound torque might have yielded is negated by other factors. Foremost are the 20 pounds the new GS gained over the previous model. And the tall sixth gear...well, suffice to say that top-gear rollon times have suffered. In fact, every performance category, including braking, is off to some degree, though the triple
Brembos display traditionally excellent feel and precision, all with the reassuring safety net of ABS (which, incidentally, can be turned off for dirt use).
So is the R1150GS, as BMW envisioned, a touring bike to take you anywhere? Provided you modify that to almost anywhere, the answer is yes. For as we discovered, a dirtbike-ish riding position and quasi-knobbies do not a motocrosser make.
The “problem” is that the RI 150GS is good enough off the tarmac that it makes you believe it can do more than it actually can. Keep the pace slow, and you can conquer obstacles that at first don’t seem conquerable. Hit sand or mud, however, and the big Beemer feels as though it weighs 1150 pounds. In such terrain, the “GS” could stand for “Godspeed.” Once this baby starts to tip over, saving it is no mean feat; if you plant your foot, you feel as though your hip will end up in your armpit! Sticking your legs out is risky, too-the cylinders protrude just about where your shins need to go, and the saddlebags (a $650 option) similarly restrict rearward movement. Still, the GS does an admirable job in conditions well outside the range of nearly every other streetbike, and the riding position lends itself well to standing on the pegs.
On the pavement, the GS belies its not insubstantial mass. The Texas longhorn handlebar-with vibe-quelling, rubber-isolated grips-helps a lot. It’s so high and wide (.5-inch more so with the addition of the latest-generation control pods) that short people probably won’t like it. As for shredding twisties, all you need do is plant your ass in the seat and start shoving those high-leverage bars around. The GS is capable of sportbike-ish lean angles, and steers with an easy willingness that turns a back-
road scratch-even over busted, sandy, dusted pavement-into harmless fun.
With a halfway-competent pilot at the controls, the GS is a match for most sportbikes in the public realm.
While the GS’s dirtbikelike riding position works wonders in instilling rider confidence, the Telelever front suspension also plays a part. Its supple response over small irregularities and suck-it-up attitude over bigger hits (there’s 7.5 of preload-adjustable travel at the front) let you explore how close your confidence threshold is to the motorcycle’s actual limitations. The anti-dive geometry is just a bonus.
The Paralever rear suspension works equally well, and the easy-access, tool-less spring-preload knob makes tuning-up for passenger-and-luggage duty a seconds-long process. The rebound adjustment worked over a useful range, keeping things under control whether the bike was loaded or not.
Like most Beemers, the GS is adept at eating up highway miles, too. The new transmission gives you the option of
clicking into sixth gear and feeling the high-frequency vibes that manifest at higher engine speeds fade to a mellow thrum. Although the flat-Twin drew some complaints for having about as much personality as a graham cracker, personality can become a real bitch after 500 miles in the saddle. Let’s just call it quietly competent, if somewhat humorless, and appreciate it for what it is: an excellent allaround powerplant. Even with fully loaded bags and a passenger, the GS never feels sluggish.
So, in the end, it is with some trepidation that one points the Rll50GS’s odd-looking nose toward tarmacless stretches of God’s green earth. Nominal off-road capability is just a vestige of what past iterations offered, for what this latest BMW is, is a 3-foot-tall, 3-foot-wide, heavyweight sport-tourer with a spoked 19-inch front wheel. Don’t let the dirtbike riding position fool you into thinking you’re Stephane Peterhansel.
But by the same token, if you’re looking for a bike that can open up a whole new world of destinations, grab a GS, pack your sense of adventure and hit the road-paved or not.
Just be sure to bring a friend to help you pick it up, in case your sense of adventure takes you too far.
BMW R1150GS
$14,190
EDITORS' NOTES
No, THE BMW RI 150GS is NO DIRTbike. In fact, as another staffer pointed out, it’s more like two-or, fully loaded, three! Still, after a few thousand allpurpose miles, it’s tough not to like.
Sure, it can make you say “yikes!” more times than Wile E. Coyote if you venture too far off-road, but it’s perfectly manageable on a fireroad. On the highway, the comfortable seating position makes it the perfect place to commune with the open road. And since you can’t see the wacky styling from the pilot’s seat, who cares if it looks like Pablo Picasso’s playbike?
At close to $15,000 with bags, though, the BMW is too expensive for my tastes. I’d be more inclined to split my asphalt and dirt passions between two motorcycles.
Still, I went places and saw things on the GS that I never would have on another bike. It truly makes molehills out of mountains. You know, if you look at it the right way, it is kind of like getting two bikes for the price of one.
-Mark Hoyer, Sports Editor
As OFF-ROAD EDITOR, I CHOOSE THE GS as Cruiser of the Year. Crazy? Maybe, but hear me out. This bike is comfortable, looks really cool (especially sitting next to an older GS), chuffs along quite nicely and-it’s a Twin! Plus, it can cruise in places that no other cruiser can.
Scratch that, the GS is Best SportTourer. It fits the category better than some “real” sport-tourers, thanks to its optional hard luggage, mini-fairing, super-comfy seat, great two-up capability, sporty handling and heated handgrips. Plus, it can sport-tour in places that no other sport-tourer can.
Forget that, I’ve got an argument that will slot the GS right into Best Superbike. Or maybe it belongs in the DualPurpose class? Now that I’ve effectively excused myself from next year’s Ten Best voting by reason of insanity, what I really think is the GS fits nicely into the niche of ultra-wide-range usability. Which, to my way of thinking, makes it one helluva good streetbike.
-Jimmy Lewis, Off-Road Editor
WHEN MA ASKS ME TO HEAD INTO TOWN and fetch supplies, I grumble and fuss. It’s all a front, of course, ’cause if she knew how much fun I have on the journey, sure as could be she’d find other chores to keep me occupied.
Heck, with the cargo-carrying capacity of a good pack mule-and a whole lot nicer disposition-a hard-bagged BMW RI 150GS makes one hoot of a hauler. Problem is, I’m running short of excuses for why it takes several hours to return when the store ain’t so fur from home.
“Well, there was this shortcut...but the crick crossing was washed out...and then the road turned to goat trail! Ever tried wresslin’ 600-odd pounds of trailbike down a singletrack? It’s a bear.”
But in all practicality, the GS extends the boundaries well beyond your average roadbike. Shoot, I just might have to pack up and move the clan further from town.
-Don Canet, Road Test Editor
