LEANINGS
Sport-touring
Peter Egan
WELL, AFTER APPROXIMATELY SIX YEARS of waffling, I’ve finally bought myself a reasonably modern sport-touring bike. It’s a used, black, full-fairing 1995 BMW R1100RS with 15,000 miles on the clock, hard bags, heated grips and a Staintune exhaust system.
In my world of irresponsible motorcycle purchases (Ducati Desmos, old Triumph Twins, etc.), this qualifies as a highly responsible act, the equivalent of buying a house or life insurance with money you could have blown at the horse races. Think of it: Barb and I can actually go somewhere distant on a motorcycle again and carry luggage! This is living.
In all truthfulness, I was about 15 minutes away from buying a used, black Honda ST 1100 (my friend Will says there are only three proper colors for a motorcycle: black, black and red), but then another friend, Mike Puls, called and said he’d spotted a very clean, used black R1100RSL at Kegel’s Harley/ BMW in Rockford, Illinois. So Barb and I zipped down there for a test ride and ended up buying the Beemer instead.
A nice, clean, well-maintained bike, which as it turns out belonged to an old acquaintance named John Tallman, who traveled with us on an Edelweiss tour of the Alps a few years ago. Small world. He traded it in on a new RUOOS, which he loves.
Anyway, we have this BMW now as our only real adult bike, but I have to admit that the purchase hung in the balance and was only tipped by a couple of factors. For my own tastes, I see only a few contenders in the sporttouring category now, and they are all laden with both virtues and shortcomings. For me, it’s a choice of excellent but still imperfect bikes.
The Honda ST 1100? I almost bought one, and perhaps should have. As a real long-distance tourer for covering America’s vast open spaces, while retaining some fun factor in the mountains, it’s the best one out there. It has a better seat than our BMW (flat and wide), a larger gas tank and better weather protection. It’s big and heavy, but carries its weight low, and the fat seems to melt away when you start cornering hard.
Sounds perfect. So why did I hold back? Well, that weight thing again. This bike may dance like a fat partner with rhythm, but it still needs to go on a
100-pound (minimum) weight-loss program. Also, while the acres of plastic bodywork are handsome, there’s not much to admire under the skin. Without body panels, an ST 1100 has all the artful charm of a rooftop air-conditioning unit with the shroud removed. Not quite enough visible metalwork and craftsmanship-which the BMW has in spades.
Still, the STI 1 is a great motorcycle, and one day I will probably have to own one. The horizon calls its name.
Several friends suggested a Honda VFR750 or 800 Interceptor as an alternative, and this is a bike I would consider for solo travel. But-excuse me-where’s the bloody luggage? These things sneak into one sport-touring comparison after another, but have no hard bags, no heated grips, no factory luggage racks, etc. Yes, I know there are saddlebags in the aftermarket, but they all stick out too far for my tastes and/or leave ugly hardware behind. The bike needs something integrated, right from the factory. BMW scores again.
And then there’s the Triumph Sprint ST. I might actually have bought one of these if I’d ridden it before I bought the BMW. But I didn’t. I rode one for the first time a week ago and liked it. Triumph has done its homework here: nimble chassis, integrated hard bags, optional heated grips and sport exhaust, and a catalog full of other neat accessories. My only reservations are the seat/handlebar position, a little more of a stretch than on the BMW, and I would
say it has slightly less wind and weather protection. Also, it’s not a Twin and lacks that loafing, overgeared, gliding cruise of the Beemer. It doesn’t have shaft drive, either.
. Still, if the BMW gives me any grief or backtalk, it could theoretically be traded for a Sprint ST. The Triumph is a very nice motorcycle.
The Ducati ST2 is another bike I’ve considered. It’s probably the lightest and best sounding of the whole group, but idesmo valve gear and chain drive are something I’d rather have on my Ducati sportbike, which I do. I haven’t ridden an ST on anything but a short test ride, so I should perhaps hold judgment, but it seems to lack the glassy, roll-on-forever feeling of the BMW, as well as the Beemer’s civilized Telelever ride quality. The Ducati seems more of a fun midrange weapon, and I like to gaze upon a map of the entire U.S. when I dream.
So the BMW is perfect, then?
No. Fet me count the ways it isn’t: 1) There’s a lot of wind noise no matter where you adjust the windscreen, and weather protection is markedly inferior to that of my old BMW R100RS; 2) The sloping, too-narrow seat is good for only about half a day, and then you are ready to wait for a Fed-Ex’ed Corbin; 3) The fuel-injection engineer at Bosch must have had to leave early on Friday afternoon to get to a cocktail party and said, “Well, I guess that’s good enough,” before he shut out the lights. The new RllOOs are fine, but this generation “hunts” at in-town cruising speeds and drives you nuts. They should have asked Ducati for help. My 996’s fuel injection is perfect. Italian thoroughness.
On the other hand, the BMW is good-looking, superbly crafted, reasonably fast, smooth and good-handling, and it has phenomenal brakes-with ABS. It also has excellent hard luggage, heated grips, an electrical outlet and, overall, seems to have been made by people who understand fast, longdistance, two-up travel on winding roads because they do it themselves.
But it’s not perfect. It merely scores a high average in many categories.
I’m still waiting for someone to get this sport-touring thing exactly right, with the ideal balance of windflow, comfort, luggage, character, quality and performance. Hope I live long enough to see it.