Engine
Motor Type Four-stroke, two cylinder, horizontally opposed "Boxer" engine, air cooled
Bore x Stroke 99 x 70.5 mm (3.89 x 2.77 in)
Displacement 1085 cc
Max Power 80 hp (59 KW) at 6,750 rpm or 78 hp (58 Kw) at 6,500 rpm
Max Torque 97 Nm 71 ft lb at 5,250 rpm
Compression Ratio 10.3 : 1
Valves Per Cylinder 4
Valve Control hc, using chain drive, cup tappets, push rod and rocker arm
Carburation System Electronic injection, Bosch Motronic MA 2.2
Engine Lubricating System Wet sump
Power Transmission
Clutch Dry single plate, with lever action diaphragm spring
Number of Gears 5
Gear Selection Dog type gearbox (ratchet foot lever)
Gearbox Ratios 4.16 / 2.91 / 2.13 / 1.74 / 1.45 : 1
Rear Wheel Ratio 1 : 3.00
Bevel/Crownwheel 11 / 33 teeth
Electrical System
Ignition System Electronic ignition, Bosch Motronic MA 2.2
Alternator 12 V 700 W
Starter 1.1 Kw
Spark Plugs Bosch FR5 DTC
Chassis
Type of Frame 3 part tubular space frame, engine serving as load bearing component
Front wheel suspension BMW Telelever fork with longitudinal control arm and central strut
Rear wheel suspension BMW Paralever swinging arm
Spring Travel Front/Rear 120 / 135 mm (4.72 x 5.31 in)
Wheel Rims, Front 3.50 x 17 or BMW cross spoke wheels 2.50 x 18
Wheel Rims, Rear 4.50 x 18 or BMW cross spoke wheels 4.00 x 17
Tyres, Front 120 / 70-ZR 17 or 110 / 80 ZR 18 (BMW cross spoke)
Tyres, Rear 160 / 60-ZR 18 or 150/70 ZR 17 (BMW cross spoke)
Brakes, Front Dual disc brake 305 mm / 12 in diameter
Brakes, Rear Single disc brake 276 mm / 10.86 in diameter
Dimensions/Weights
Length x Width x Height 2197 x 898 x 1060 mm (86.49 x 35.35 x 41.73 in)
Wheel Base 1487 mm / 58.54 in
Fuel Tank Capacity 21 litres / 4.61 gal / 5.54 gal US
Unladen Weight with Full Tank 235 Kg / 517 lb
Max. Permissible Weight 450 Kg / 991 lb
Ground Clearance 138 mm / 5.43 in
Seat Height (Unladen) 760 / 780 / 800 mm (29.9 / 30.7 / 31.5 inches)
Fuel Consumption (at constant 90 Kph) 4.6 litres 100 Km / 61 mpg / 51 mpg US
Top Speed 197 Kph / 122 mph
Acceleration 0 - 100 Kph / 62 mph 4.3 seconds
R1100R Specifications
Moderator: Moderators
Magazine Extract....
Sitting in a roadside cafe in Santa Monica the future was clear: At the curb, BMW's new R1100R standard. On the map, a route north. A day to do it. Gazing at the beemer, I tried to reconcile those great features -- torquey and smooth twin-cylinder boxer engine, antilock brakes, fuel injection, adjustable seat -- with its godawful ugly looks. No contest. When BMW designers put together the new boxer, it ended up looking like a boxer -- pug nose and cauliflower ears included -- but this bike is no slouch. That smooth motor packs a powerful punch and it was a great day for a fight with the weather on a stripped motorcycle.
Setting out from Los Angeles to ride to San Francisco with no rain gear is usually not a problem in May -- during spring in California's coastal region, the rain has stopped for the season. The calendar says so. So much for my smug reliance on traditional weather patterns. Turns out that (so far at least) 1995 is one of those years that winter never ends. But my ride was just beginning.
The clouds rolled out of the Pacific, covering the mountains north of Los Angeles with a thick white blanket. Broken clouds and rain were to dog my footsteps for the next 300 miles home, and the next three weeks afterward. On a naked bike, rain is as welcome as a cold wet crotch.
Over the next hill, the temperature dropped several degrees. And on this trip, that meant water falling from the sky. I hit the wet stuff near Santa Maria, about 200 miles out of LA, and things got dismal really quickly. Wet roads, wet face shield with water dripping in helmet, wet jeans and blinded four-wheeler drivers. I wished I'd saved some space in the capacious luggage bags for a rain suit. As I shuddered up 101 in the rain shadow of the mountains on either side I'd see dirty gray clouds coming down to the ground. But the road, somehow, would always aim between them. Those old road builders must have known their craft well, and their weather data was accurate. Certainly more accurate than the BMW's speedometer.
BMW's speedos are notorious for their optimism. Later I'd take the bike along to El Sobrante tuner Dale Lineaweaver's shop for a dyno run, just to check the accuracy of the speedo. Dale spun the bike up on the roller, and mapped indicated engine rpm against road speed (since the speedometer takes its reading off the front wheel, its needle remained stubbornly stuck at zero throughout the process). At an indicated 4,500rpm, the rear wheel is turning at 72mph. On the road, the needle is a couple of clicks below the eighty mark at this engine speed -- about 6mph optimistic, which is a very bad defense against a speeding ticket (Oh, officer, my speedo lies, I have to go too fast...).
Lineaweaver routinely uses an exhaust gas analyzer on every bike he tunes on his dyno, because the sniffer immediately shows the effects of the smallest jetting or engine changes. BMW's Motronic fuel injection system rated an big grin from Dale. The BMW was the cleanest bike he's ever run -- 10 times cleaner than the run of the mill machines. At idle, the Hydrocarbon (HC) count is less than 100 parts per million, and CO emissions just 0.2 percent. The reason, of course, is the catalytic converter stuck inside the muffler canister and the clean-running fuel injection. The injectors are simple cable-operated devices, with just one throttle-position sensor on the left injector to tell the Motronic brain what your throttle hand is up to. This single sensor, combined with separate throttle cables for each injector, can lead to some motor surging when the throttle cables stretch and the throttle bodies are no longer in synch with each other.
I had a tough time wrenching the bike out of Dale's grasp as he waxed lyrical about the tuning possibilities of changing the chip in the electronic control box, and how he'd just love to try those throttle body fuel injectors on his latest 70 hp Husaberg flat-tracker. Even if the speedometer lies, everything else is assembled with Teutonic thoroughness. The bike is designed for longevity and reliability -- check out the one million mile (seven digit) odometer, installed so if the bike turns over 100,000 miles (which it should, many times in its life) then the instrumentation will show it. Note that the odometer is more accurate than the speedometer, being only a couple of percent optimistic.
In San Luis Obispo, half way up the coast and not yet soaked, I stop for gas. The Beemer's tank is one of the rare ones that will hold a California-spec gas nozzle without messy and difficult fiddling with the double-hose that surrounds the delivery tube. You can walk away and leave the filler in the tank, and it fills up automatically. Magic. At 40 to 50 miles per gallon, depending on the angle of your right wrist, look for 150- 200 miles between fill-ups, if you can ignore the orange fuel warning light long enough. It, by contrast, seems rather pessimistic with regards to how much fuel is left in the tank. There's no reserve fuel tap, because running out of gas would discombobulate the fuel injection. A middle-aged fellow walked over during the refueling. After his first keen questions I asked "and which BMW do you ride?
"Oh, I own an R75," he replied.
"Ah, a 750 twin from the Seventies?" I asked, ignorant of BMW lore.
"No," he said, "mine's a 750cc, 26hp R75 from 1943. Those were the pack mules, the jeeps of the German Army during WWII, designed especially for sidecar use, with a host of innovations, including two wheel drive (sidecar and rear wheel), and then-new telescopic forks."
The conversation soon turned to forks.
It's worth remembering BMW's suspension innovations back then, because in a way, the front wheel has now turned full circle. Before that war, BMW's competitors were using girder front forks, which used a rigid girder-like structure to connect the front wheel to the moving links and a spring behind the headlamp (like the new Harley-Davidson "springers"). Damping was by hand-adjusted friction dampers, and suspension was primitive. Influenced by its background in the airplane industry, BMW introduced the first hydraulically-damped telescopic front forks in 1938. Obviously, they caught on, because they're still in use more than 50 years later.
classic design theory and modern performance
Will BMW's new front suspension design still be around in 2045? I guess we'll have to wait and see. The wishbone-type front suspension is now in its third incarnation -- originally released on the R1100RS sport-tourer, it was refined for the R1100GS dual-sport and refined again for this R1100R model: Look for the system, or the next version of it, to be added to the four-cylinder K- bike range for the 1997 model year. It uses a single shock absorber that is spring mounted almost vertically in front of the engine, yet resembles nothing more than a set of upside-down forks to the casual observer. The lower legs run all the way to where the bottom triple clamp would normally live, and sweep a few inches of chrome-plated fork tubes at headlight level. There's nothing inside the tubes but air and a little lubricating oil, and their sole purpose is to keep the front wheel connected to the handlebars. Flexible mounts at the end of the tubes (where they mount to the top triple clamp) prevent the slight yawing motion of the tubes as the fork compresses from being transmitted to the rider. Compared to telescopic forks, the suspension lacks, ahem, elegance, but it works surprisingly well and allows the bike to be much shorter than it would be with telescopic forks allowing the same suspension travel.
But don't get the impression this bike is a sport bike. That mantle belongs (perhaps) to its stable mate the R1100RS. The suspension is calibrated more for comfort than canyons, and the wide handlebars amplify every twitch of the rider's wrists at speed, so in fast corners both ends start to waggle in the breeze. Bridgestone Battlax tires are fitted, their famous stickiness a little wasted on this standard, and already way past their best with 4,000 miles under the saddle of this test bike.
Near Santa Margarita the train tracks parallel the highway. As the sun dipped into the pacific, sending a rare shaft between the clouds, it lit the silver sides of the two locomotives pulling a nine car train. The observation car's huge windows were black against the sun but I waved anyway as we both raced the sunbeams (the beemer won the speed contest, pulling away from Amtrak easily: around 5,500rpm the twin starts to pull hard, better than a train in this case). The clouds never cleared on that long ride, but luckily I never did get soaked out in the open on the naked bike. Maybe there'd be some good weather for a Sunday ride.
Sunday afternoon at Alice's Restaurant. Miles of winding forested roads beckoned -- but that morning the sun only appeared for a few minutes at a time between gathering thunder clouds. From the freeway, the hills around Alices were invisible, covered by a mantle of grey rain clouds. By the summit, the idea of a ride had evaporated. A thick, drenching torrent of rain was falling as a mournful group of riders gazed out over our coffee cups.
For me, the ride home from Alice's offers 15 miles of semi-familiar corners before the freeway section begins. In the rain, I was dreading that 15 miles. Sure enough, the water began to find its way through the seams of my gloves and dripped into my boots. But the rain had also washed the slippery leaves away from the apexes of the turns, the road was DOT approved (Devoid Of Traffic), and nobody else was around to see what an ugly bike I was riding. Traction from the Battlax tires was just fine, and those 15 miles turned into a memorable ride. As I splashed through the puddles, riding as smoothly as I could with the almost-certain knowledge that California's finest were holed up in the nearest donut shop, staring out over their coffee cups and not around the next corner sighting a radar gun. Sometimes, the prettiest way is not the best way, and a ride through stormy weather on an ugly bike can be the most fun of all.
Impressions:
1. Andy Saunders, Senior Editor ***1/2
A naked bike should be a good all-around bike, capable of cruising from cafe to cafe across town, or blitzing up to Seattle tomorrow for that interview when Bill Gates returns your e-mail (finally). Aside from its weight (definitely on the heavy side), the R bike fits the bill nicely. The looks grow on you after a while, too, although I'm not sure about the plastic wings clumsily tacked on under the tank with sheet metal screws. Unfortunately, the price is on the heavy side too, so just for now, I think I'll pass on the pleasure of actually owning one.
2. Brent Plummer, Editor ****
The jokes about this BMW's styling got so mean around here that I'm almost afraid to say this: I think the R1100R looks really cool. Now before you haul off and pelt me with flames, hear me out: I have no ties to the classic BMWs of yesteryear and was never impressed with their "classic good looks" and certainly not with their terminal slowness. As a kid, I spent my time blasting around on a Kawasaki H1, blowing foul smoke at any BMW owner crazy enough to try and stay near. So all I saw was frustrated faces inhaling blue fumes. Anyway, after riding the R1100R -- with it's awesomely torquey street motor that is second to none for road use and decent handling -- I don't look at it and see an ugly duckling. In my mind's eye, I see a radically advanced bike replete with ABS and an earth-friendly catalytic converter that takes great pains to retain its heritage in long-lasting opposed twins. BMW, I think, has merged the best of both worlds -- classic design theory and modern performance. So here's a symbolic bow and a tip of the editorial hat to BMW: They have achieved greatness in this bike. Two problems that, when combined, keep this bike from getting our first five star rating: A huge sticker price and the front suspension isn't even adjustable for spring preload. 3. Mike Franklin, Road Test Editor ****
Is this bike a bold styling statement or a fashion faux-pas? I think it's really a GS in a tuxedo. Once you get past the looks, the 1100R's real beauty shines through. The word refined kept coming to mind as I racked up the miles during my stint on this bike. Everything about the bike says quality. The ABS brakes and the six-digit odometer both inspire confidence. Personal gripes are few: It should have front running lights for better conspicuity; the engine stops, and cannot be started, with the side stand down; and with the seat height adjusted so that both feet reach the ground the foot pegs felt too high for long distance running. The center stand is a lean-angle limiter, and if the pegs ever hit, they would soon be followed by the handlebars. Even so, the rave list is much longer. The removable bags are easy to use, and quite weather-proof, though just shy of being big enough to hold a full-face helmet. And the bike almost looks pretty without them. It's expensive at 11,490 dollars (with ABS, 9,990 without) but the laundry list of high-tech and environmentally friendly features that the price includes make it worth the money. My advice -- ride the beast, you'll see the beauty. I give Beemer's Boxer four stars.
Sitting in a roadside cafe in Santa Monica the future was clear: At the curb, BMW's new R1100R standard. On the map, a route north. A day to do it. Gazing at the beemer, I tried to reconcile those great features -- torquey and smooth twin-cylinder boxer engine, antilock brakes, fuel injection, adjustable seat -- with its godawful ugly looks. No contest. When BMW designers put together the new boxer, it ended up looking like a boxer -- pug nose and cauliflower ears included -- but this bike is no slouch. That smooth motor packs a powerful punch and it was a great day for a fight with the weather on a stripped motorcycle.
Setting out from Los Angeles to ride to San Francisco with no rain gear is usually not a problem in May -- during spring in California's coastal region, the rain has stopped for the season. The calendar says so. So much for my smug reliance on traditional weather patterns. Turns out that (so far at least) 1995 is one of those years that winter never ends. But my ride was just beginning.
The clouds rolled out of the Pacific, covering the mountains north of Los Angeles with a thick white blanket. Broken clouds and rain were to dog my footsteps for the next 300 miles home, and the next three weeks afterward. On a naked bike, rain is as welcome as a cold wet crotch.
Over the next hill, the temperature dropped several degrees. And on this trip, that meant water falling from the sky. I hit the wet stuff near Santa Maria, about 200 miles out of LA, and things got dismal really quickly. Wet roads, wet face shield with water dripping in helmet, wet jeans and blinded four-wheeler drivers. I wished I'd saved some space in the capacious luggage bags for a rain suit. As I shuddered up 101 in the rain shadow of the mountains on either side I'd see dirty gray clouds coming down to the ground. But the road, somehow, would always aim between them. Those old road builders must have known their craft well, and their weather data was accurate. Certainly more accurate than the BMW's speedometer.
BMW's speedos are notorious for their optimism. Later I'd take the bike along to El Sobrante tuner Dale Lineaweaver's shop for a dyno run, just to check the accuracy of the speedo. Dale spun the bike up on the roller, and mapped indicated engine rpm against road speed (since the speedometer takes its reading off the front wheel, its needle remained stubbornly stuck at zero throughout the process). At an indicated 4,500rpm, the rear wheel is turning at 72mph. On the road, the needle is a couple of clicks below the eighty mark at this engine speed -- about 6mph optimistic, which is a very bad defense against a speeding ticket (Oh, officer, my speedo lies, I have to go too fast...).
Lineaweaver routinely uses an exhaust gas analyzer on every bike he tunes on his dyno, because the sniffer immediately shows the effects of the smallest jetting or engine changes. BMW's Motronic fuel injection system rated an big grin from Dale. The BMW was the cleanest bike he's ever run -- 10 times cleaner than the run of the mill machines. At idle, the Hydrocarbon (HC) count is less than 100 parts per million, and CO emissions just 0.2 percent. The reason, of course, is the catalytic converter stuck inside the muffler canister and the clean-running fuel injection. The injectors are simple cable-operated devices, with just one throttle-position sensor on the left injector to tell the Motronic brain what your throttle hand is up to. This single sensor, combined with separate throttle cables for each injector, can lead to some motor surging when the throttle cables stretch and the throttle bodies are no longer in synch with each other.
I had a tough time wrenching the bike out of Dale's grasp as he waxed lyrical about the tuning possibilities of changing the chip in the electronic control box, and how he'd just love to try those throttle body fuel injectors on his latest 70 hp Husaberg flat-tracker. Even if the speedometer lies, everything else is assembled with Teutonic thoroughness. The bike is designed for longevity and reliability -- check out the one million mile (seven digit) odometer, installed so if the bike turns over 100,000 miles (which it should, many times in its life) then the instrumentation will show it. Note that the odometer is more accurate than the speedometer, being only a couple of percent optimistic.
In San Luis Obispo, half way up the coast and not yet soaked, I stop for gas. The Beemer's tank is one of the rare ones that will hold a California-spec gas nozzle without messy and difficult fiddling with the double-hose that surrounds the delivery tube. You can walk away and leave the filler in the tank, and it fills up automatically. Magic. At 40 to 50 miles per gallon, depending on the angle of your right wrist, look for 150- 200 miles between fill-ups, if you can ignore the orange fuel warning light long enough. It, by contrast, seems rather pessimistic with regards to how much fuel is left in the tank. There's no reserve fuel tap, because running out of gas would discombobulate the fuel injection. A middle-aged fellow walked over during the refueling. After his first keen questions I asked "and which BMW do you ride?
"Oh, I own an R75," he replied.
"Ah, a 750 twin from the Seventies?" I asked, ignorant of BMW lore.
"No," he said, "mine's a 750cc, 26hp R75 from 1943. Those were the pack mules, the jeeps of the German Army during WWII, designed especially for sidecar use, with a host of innovations, including two wheel drive (sidecar and rear wheel), and then-new telescopic forks."
The conversation soon turned to forks.
It's worth remembering BMW's suspension innovations back then, because in a way, the front wheel has now turned full circle. Before that war, BMW's competitors were using girder front forks, which used a rigid girder-like structure to connect the front wheel to the moving links and a spring behind the headlamp (like the new Harley-Davidson "springers"). Damping was by hand-adjusted friction dampers, and suspension was primitive. Influenced by its background in the airplane industry, BMW introduced the first hydraulically-damped telescopic front forks in 1938. Obviously, they caught on, because they're still in use more than 50 years later.
classic design theory and modern performance
Will BMW's new front suspension design still be around in 2045? I guess we'll have to wait and see. The wishbone-type front suspension is now in its third incarnation -- originally released on the R1100RS sport-tourer, it was refined for the R1100GS dual-sport and refined again for this R1100R model: Look for the system, or the next version of it, to be added to the four-cylinder K- bike range for the 1997 model year. It uses a single shock absorber that is spring mounted almost vertically in front of the engine, yet resembles nothing more than a set of upside-down forks to the casual observer. The lower legs run all the way to where the bottom triple clamp would normally live, and sweep a few inches of chrome-plated fork tubes at headlight level. There's nothing inside the tubes but air and a little lubricating oil, and their sole purpose is to keep the front wheel connected to the handlebars. Flexible mounts at the end of the tubes (where they mount to the top triple clamp) prevent the slight yawing motion of the tubes as the fork compresses from being transmitted to the rider. Compared to telescopic forks, the suspension lacks, ahem, elegance, but it works surprisingly well and allows the bike to be much shorter than it would be with telescopic forks allowing the same suspension travel.
But don't get the impression this bike is a sport bike. That mantle belongs (perhaps) to its stable mate the R1100RS. The suspension is calibrated more for comfort than canyons, and the wide handlebars amplify every twitch of the rider's wrists at speed, so in fast corners both ends start to waggle in the breeze. Bridgestone Battlax tires are fitted, their famous stickiness a little wasted on this standard, and already way past their best with 4,000 miles under the saddle of this test bike.
Near Santa Margarita the train tracks parallel the highway. As the sun dipped into the pacific, sending a rare shaft between the clouds, it lit the silver sides of the two locomotives pulling a nine car train. The observation car's huge windows were black against the sun but I waved anyway as we both raced the sunbeams (the beemer won the speed contest, pulling away from Amtrak easily: around 5,500rpm the twin starts to pull hard, better than a train in this case). The clouds never cleared on that long ride, but luckily I never did get soaked out in the open on the naked bike. Maybe there'd be some good weather for a Sunday ride.
Sunday afternoon at Alice's Restaurant. Miles of winding forested roads beckoned -- but that morning the sun only appeared for a few minutes at a time between gathering thunder clouds. From the freeway, the hills around Alices were invisible, covered by a mantle of grey rain clouds. By the summit, the idea of a ride had evaporated. A thick, drenching torrent of rain was falling as a mournful group of riders gazed out over our coffee cups.
For me, the ride home from Alice's offers 15 miles of semi-familiar corners before the freeway section begins. In the rain, I was dreading that 15 miles. Sure enough, the water began to find its way through the seams of my gloves and dripped into my boots. But the rain had also washed the slippery leaves away from the apexes of the turns, the road was DOT approved (Devoid Of Traffic), and nobody else was around to see what an ugly bike I was riding. Traction from the Battlax tires was just fine, and those 15 miles turned into a memorable ride. As I splashed through the puddles, riding as smoothly as I could with the almost-certain knowledge that California's finest were holed up in the nearest donut shop, staring out over their coffee cups and not around the next corner sighting a radar gun. Sometimes, the prettiest way is not the best way, and a ride through stormy weather on an ugly bike can be the most fun of all.
Impressions:
1. Andy Saunders, Senior Editor ***1/2
A naked bike should be a good all-around bike, capable of cruising from cafe to cafe across town, or blitzing up to Seattle tomorrow for that interview when Bill Gates returns your e-mail (finally). Aside from its weight (definitely on the heavy side), the R bike fits the bill nicely. The looks grow on you after a while, too, although I'm not sure about the plastic wings clumsily tacked on under the tank with sheet metal screws. Unfortunately, the price is on the heavy side too, so just for now, I think I'll pass on the pleasure of actually owning one.
2. Brent Plummer, Editor ****
The jokes about this BMW's styling got so mean around here that I'm almost afraid to say this: I think the R1100R looks really cool. Now before you haul off and pelt me with flames, hear me out: I have no ties to the classic BMWs of yesteryear and was never impressed with their "classic good looks" and certainly not with their terminal slowness. As a kid, I spent my time blasting around on a Kawasaki H1, blowing foul smoke at any BMW owner crazy enough to try and stay near. So all I saw was frustrated faces inhaling blue fumes. Anyway, after riding the R1100R -- with it's awesomely torquey street motor that is second to none for road use and decent handling -- I don't look at it and see an ugly duckling. In my mind's eye, I see a radically advanced bike replete with ABS and an earth-friendly catalytic converter that takes great pains to retain its heritage in long-lasting opposed twins. BMW, I think, has merged the best of both worlds -- classic design theory and modern performance. So here's a symbolic bow and a tip of the editorial hat to BMW: They have achieved greatness in this bike. Two problems that, when combined, keep this bike from getting our first five star rating: A huge sticker price and the front suspension isn't even adjustable for spring preload. 3. Mike Franklin, Road Test Editor ****
Is this bike a bold styling statement or a fashion faux-pas? I think it's really a GS in a tuxedo. Once you get past the looks, the 1100R's real beauty shines through. The word refined kept coming to mind as I racked up the miles during my stint on this bike. Everything about the bike says quality. The ABS brakes and the six-digit odometer both inspire confidence. Personal gripes are few: It should have front running lights for better conspicuity; the engine stops, and cannot be started, with the side stand down; and with the seat height adjusted so that both feet reach the ground the foot pegs felt too high for long distance running. The center stand is a lean-angle limiter, and if the pegs ever hit, they would soon be followed by the handlebars. Even so, the rave list is much longer. The removable bags are easy to use, and quite weather-proof, though just shy of being big enough to hold a full-face helmet. And the bike almost looks pretty without them. It's expensive at 11,490 dollars (with ABS, 9,990 without) but the laundry list of high-tech and environmentally friendly features that the price includes make it worth the money. My advice -- ride the beast, you'll see the beauty. I give Beemer's Boxer four stars.
Last edited by Arbee on Sat Sep 01, 2007 3:38 am, edited 1 time in total.
-
daytonaredeye
- Lifer
- Posts: 51
- Joined: Sun Jun 24, 2007 10:02 pm
- Location: Carrollton, Ga
R1100R
Thanks to all for the recent "opening" of the R1100R list. Arbee, great introduction and commentary; I sense that you and I feel the same about the R - poetry in motion and more fun than a tornado in a trailer park! I bought one in 2001 and I still love it. The "cauliflower ear" oil radiators you described are right on and at first I wish I had waited another couple of months and I would have got the 1150 that had the radiators tucked under the front of the fuel tank area. I couldn't even begin to tell you, though, how many other bikers with all the other brands comment on the genious "offsetting" of the radiators (I didn't say they thought they were cute!) and, of course, the front telelever's classic anti-dive characteristics. I traded in a Honda PC 800 and it felt like going from a horse and buggy to a Porsche! I've done only one after market tweak - cannisterectomy and installation of a GIVI top bag. I chose this bike for 2 real reasons: 1. Better pickup and "flickablilty" than heavier models (and the PC 800) and 2. Naked!. I primarily ride for long distance touring but chose against the traditional bigger/heavier touring models like the RT and K bikes (as well as Gold Wings, etc.) as I wanted to be able to strip down the touring accessories such as side bags, etc. to make local riding more fun. I've done Daytona Bike week twice (riding it - not trailering it) - once on the Honda and once on the R1100R (I live in the Atlanta area); about 5 years ago, I did a road trip up the blue ridge parkway and thru the Shenandoah valley and on up to West Virginia for white water rafting and currently preparing to repeat this trip in a couple of weeks and, in prep for this one, going to perform only my second aftermarket tweak - Throttlemeister cruise control bar ends. To my friends and family who don't understand my enjoyment of long distance biking I can only tell them that if they ever experienced the parkway and the valley on bike, that doubt would never cross their mind again!! Anyway, the upcoming trip to WV will be made with one of my best biker buds on his Valkyrie (rode with me on the previous trip) and our new pastor riding his new Harley.
When I go long distance, I use the system cases, the GIVI case and a pair of Aerostitch tank panniers; used to have a BMW tank bag but it is old and deteriorated and I probably won't replace it unless I really miss it on the upcoming trip.
Best accessory investments thus far: (1) Tour windshield (yeah, the only one my dealer carried for it) - before it, I looked like the Michelin man riding the highway with my jacket's vent openings unzipped; (2) a rain suit. My first trip back from Daytona was in 8 hours of pouring rain in regular riding gear and to say I was waterlogged and miserable - an understatement. Been caught in a variety of storms since but rain suit performed as advetised and remained truly comfortable.
Lets see, what else, oh, the bike in the picture posted by GTR350cc
(Blue tank and trim with black upholstry) is mirror to mine - charcoal tank and trim with blue upholstry.
Didn't mean to ramble on but haven't been to the board in a while and wanted to unwind a little....and, like a kid anticipating Christmas, counting down the days, hours and minutes till West Virginia . . .can't wait!
When I go long distance, I use the system cases, the GIVI case and a pair of Aerostitch tank panniers; used to have a BMW tank bag but it is old and deteriorated and I probably won't replace it unless I really miss it on the upcoming trip.
Best accessory investments thus far: (1) Tour windshield (yeah, the only one my dealer carried for it) - before it, I looked like the Michelin man riding the highway with my jacket's vent openings unzipped; (2) a rain suit. My first trip back from Daytona was in 8 hours of pouring rain in regular riding gear and to say I was waterlogged and miserable - an understatement. Been caught in a variety of storms since but rain suit performed as advetised and remained truly comfortable.
Lets see, what else, oh, the bike in the picture posted by GTR350cc
(Blue tank and trim with black upholstry) is mirror to mine - charcoal tank and trim with blue upholstry.
Didn't mean to ramble on but haven't been to the board in a while and wanted to unwind a little....and, like a kid anticipating Christmas, counting down the days, hours and minutes till West Virginia . . .can't wait!
West Georgia
'00 R1100R
Lifer # 667
'00 R1100R
Lifer # 667