The Big 4-0 - Issuu

from Inside Motorcycles – Volume 24, Issue 03/04

by Inside Track Communications

Suspension Setup

TURNING THE BIG 4-0

BMW R 1250 GS – Edition 40 Years GS

BY JASON THORPE PHOTOS BY BEN QUINN

The late Neil Peart, the drummer and lyricist for Rush, and the author of several motorcycle touring-related books, rode a BMW GS. He rode farther and with more intensity than anyone of my experience. And he rode a BMW GS exclusively.

In my mind, as a Rush fan since forever, and as an avid motorcyclist, it’s hard to imagine a more intense, personalized recommendation. Peart rode several GS models – the 1100, 1150 and 1200. Unfortunately, I don’t think he made it to ride the 1250. But I am fairly certain that were he still alive, he would undoubtedly be riding the R 1250 GS in its 40th anniversary livery.

How could I second-guess his choice? And here I am, 40 years after this bike’s inception, riding what feels like a perfected BMW R 1250 GS.

Look. I’ve ridden many iterations of this motorcycle over the years. I’ve ridden GSs to the Maritimes, across South Africa and to the shore of James Bay. I’m familiar with the feel of this bike, its quirks, its strengths and its very few weaknesses. And every time I sling a leg across one of these bikes, as I pull away from the curb, I think to myself, this is the best motorcycle in the world.

There. I said it. Now I should explain.

The R 1250 GS gives off an air of complete confidence, solidity and, well, genius. It’s an odd-looking duck, and that’s part of its appeal. Each part, every component, is where it needs to be in order to work best. It’s the ultimate, platonic conception of a functional motorcycle.

One wrong turn on a trip to the beach led to some fun times in the sand. Lesson learned.

While they have evolved over the last 40 years, the outward position of the boxer engine’s cylinders (above left) and the beak above the front fender (above right) are synonymous with the BMW GS.

The Edition 40 Years GS as tested included (above top to bottom) gold-anodized tubeless spoked rims, dual display with GPS, BMW’s Dynamic ESA suspension and the special 40th anniversary livery.

There’s gizmos aplenty here. This particular unit was fully loaded, with a BMW-branded Garmin GPS right up near chin level to assist with rally raid navigation. Both rider and passenger seats are heated, and the instrument panel is a good-sized TFT display. Navigation between menu settings is accomplished via their jog wheel that’s located on the left grip - I found it a bit confusing, trying to find my way through the options, but familiarity and a longer evaluation period would likely fix that. Heated grips? Of course (but not stock though – you have to purchase them as part of an option package). Even the panniers do tricks – there’s a lever inside each pannier that in seconds expands the overall width and attendant interior volume by a good amount. The adaptive headlight is most slick – it angles the light in toward the direction of lean to assist with cornering visibility. The LED headlight itself is a pleasure, with a crisp low-beam cutoff and superb high-beam reach.

There’s more. Cruise control, a full suite of traction and stability aids, ABS, more trip computer metrics than I have space to list and a nifty adjustable windshield that’s actuated by an actual tactile knob and is easily adjustable while the bike is in motion. Seat height is quickly swappable between two settings, and even in the high position, my 30-inch inseam had no trouble reaching the ground.

The 40th anniversary colour scheme – which adds a hefty $2,725 to the price – provides splashes of yellow all over the place, and also includes snazzy gold-anodized tubeless spoked rims. While I do appreciate the sentiment of the retro bumblebee livery, it does feel a touch affected, and I noted that the hand guard plastic doesn’t exactly match the yellow on the tank. Still, it’s a handsome motorcycle – at least I think so.

It’s an interesting contrast between my last test bike – the Harley-Davidson Road Glide CVO (review forthcoming) – and this GS. Every part on the GS looks like it was designed and placed just so because that’s exactly where it needs to go in order to function best. Continuing my reverse-engineering of BMW’s thought processes, each component is made from the material that best suits its needs. Plastic of a specific thickness. Alloy machined to the correct thickness – as it needs to be. Contrast that to the stunning art-deco, gothic-arch Harley, which was built to please a conqueror of worlds, without regard to cost, weight or overt function. Both approaches work well, depending on your design goals.

The BMW might look kinda dorky, depending on your viewpoint, but it’s poetry in motion. As you snick the R 1250 GS down into gear and pull away from a standstill, everything falls to hand, the million spheres come into conjunction, and it just feels so right. The riding position is perfect – a good stretch to the knees, the bars drape your arms just so and the saddle feels like it was orthopaedically designed.

This bike practically rides itself. Clutch actuation is cloud-like in its effortlessness, and the gear shift is likewise slick as soap on glass. The gearbox slides down into first almost without notice, and the long, strong motor pulls the bike away as if guided by thought.

I’m eternally amused by the lateral torque effect of the big boxer motor. Blip the throttle at idle and the bike gently twists itself sideways, a reminder that there’s a big-ass crankshaft right in the middle that’s rotating perpendicular to the direction of travel. That’s the only real oddity though – you fast become accustomed to the ruler-flat torque curve that’s unique to these boxer twins, although in later generations of the 1250 li-

quid-cooled motor – and more so with this here variable-timing ShiftCam system – there’s a top-end rush that the older engines lacked. In fact, the motor in this version of the GS has turned the corner from being fast for a dual sport to just plain fast.

Yes, at 136 horsepower there’s plenty of jam on tap. Fuelling is spot-on, with no lurches or dead spots, and as I hinted earlier, the GS motor is extremely well behaved. There’s a direct connection between rider intent, throttle position and activation of thrust. Whack the throttle though, and things happen fast. As with any motorcycle that produces over 100 hp, this bike is more than quick enough for any sane, well-adjusted human being. The GS, however, tempers its fury with its overall good manners - the throttle is silky in its actuation, and although the return spring feels somewhat light, there’s no sense of jerkiness.

Over each iteration of BMW’s Telelever front suspension I’ve noticed an increase in apparent sophistication. There’s always been a sensation of harshness in the initial phase of the damping, some sort of artifact of the design’s architecture, I’d wager. But on this most recent iteration of the GS I had to actively look for that stiction, so much has it been reduced. I could still sense a teensy reluctance on large hits, but the overall demeanour of the front suspension is so sophisticated that it’s mostly below the radar.

It’s worthy of note that the R 1250 GS under test was equipped with BMW’s Dynamic ESA semi-active suspension, which is a $1,935 option. The differing modes – Soft, Normal

and Hard – are easily distinguishable, although each mode is directly tied to the riding modes themselves - Rain mode delivers soft suspension, Road mode engages normal, and Dynamic mode sets it to firm. Ideally I’d like to be able to directly engage the suspension setting of my choice - soft for highway droning, firm when there’s an upcoming off-ramp. Still I mostly left the GS in either Road or Dynamic modes and mostly forgot about it, the overall high quality of the suspension lulling me into nonchalance. So yes, the damping quality is excellent, with the 1250 GS delivering that buttery sophistication I’ve come to expect from today’s high-quality electronically assisted suspension.

The 1250 GS is one the most neutral-handling motorcycles I’ve ever ridden.The bike neither stands up nor falls into corners. Initial corner setup is irrelevant, as the GS handles mid-corner corrections without concern.

The brakes are also excellent. The Brembo radial-mount calipers up front are controlled by a non-radial master cylinder, but feel is great, with light initial travel aided by a slim, ergonomic lever.

Turning over at around 3,500 rpm at 100 km/h, the engine feels relaxed on the highway. Wind protection is superb, and highway travel is peaceful and ridiculously comfortable. At the other end of the gearbox, the GS lugs down in first with reasonable grace, the low-slung engine conferring admirable balance. Up on the pegs, the GS feels surprisingly slim through the knees, given its size, and the standing position feels sufficiently stretched out to accommodate low-speed plonking.

Minute one of the photo shoot for the 1250 GS found us at our ultra-secret off-road test site. Photographer Ben Quinn directed me down a slightly washed-out hill and into some deep sand. Being the obedient test rider, I complied, and the GS immediately dug itself in axle deep – not surprising as the road tires provided zero off-road grip.

Quinn was worried, and asked me what we were going to do now. I responded that it’s obviously stuck beyond hope and we can let BMW know where to find their bike. He didn’t like this answer, so I figured I’d best deal with it. We took the panniers off the bike and I proceeded to rev it to the redline while pushing the thing for all I was worth. The GS started to move and began to plane out, so I hopped on and manoeuvred it toward solid ground out of the trouble spot. The takeaways from this fiasco were a) don’t ride big bikes with street tires in deep sand, b) you sure as hell can treat the big GS just like an oversized dirt bike and c) the GS looks just great dirty.

By now you’ve likely got the message that I really like this motorcycle. That I like the GS really should be irrelevant, as my job is to tell you what this bike is like to live with and to ride. After all, in my position here at Inside Motorcycles, I ride many bikes and really like most of them. I hope that I have given you the measure of the R 1250 GS, but more than that, I think I’ve been obliquely trying to impress upon you that this motorcycle transcends its genre. It’s not merely a large dual sport, and it’s not merely the root of the large dual sport category. Rather the GS has the potential to be all things to most riders. Need to go on a long tour? Check. Got groceries to fetch? Check. Want to carve some corners? Got it. Fancy doing a bit of light off-roading? It’s covered.

There aren’t many bikes that can do all this and do it so well. And there’s only one bike that’s been doing it for 40 years. IM

TAKE TWO.

THE R 1250 RT.

Ididn’t really spend too much time investigating the R 1250 RT’s depth of features prior to picking it up – I was concentrating more on the GS as I had to write that one up first. So, as I was riding along I discovered a bunch of neat gizmos baked into this magnificent motorcycle.

Hey – this thing’s got adaptive cruise control, I thought to myself as the bike slowed itself down to match traffic. And I can change gears without the bike losing its speed lock! A little later I gave an exploratory poke at the gear shifter without using the clutch and found out that yes, the RT is equipped with BMW’s Gear Shift Assist quick shifter.

The only part of the RT that is a bit of a head shaker is the stereo – at a standstill it sounds muddy and indistinct, and while wearing a helmet and earplugs it’s essentially useless at anything over 20 km/h. Still, there’s so much to like here that I’m happy giving the stereo a pass.

These amenities are nice and all, but it they would be lipstick on a pig if the bike itself didn’t work well.

My, oh my does this bike ever work well. In my review of the R 1250 GS, I took a leap and stated that in my opinion it’s the best bike in the world. I rode the RT after the GS, after I’d submitted the review of the GS, and I had a moment there where I wondered if I’d made a mistake. Could the RT be even better?

They’re built around the same motor and share much of the same componentry, the RT and the GS, but engine aside it’s hard to imagine the basic feel of two bikes being less alike. The compact RT stands in stark contrast to the gangly GS, and the experience while riding couldn’t be more different. The RT swings from below the hips – it’s so dramatically light when it’s underway, with rider input instantly reflected in the bike’s actions. It’s almost like you’re riding a moped, so feathery does the RT feel.

It’s mission focused, the RT. Comfortable beyond belief, with its open riding position and firm, supportive saddle; stable at highway speeds while nimble as all get-out in corners. It’s hard to imagine a better long-distance bike. Other than the GS, that is. IM