THE RIDE
Let it be said BMW boxers always need some
time to adjust to. With the possible exception
of the Moto Guzzi there’s just nothing else out
there quite like them. First impression with
these ‘airheads’ is nearly always negative,
tthey feel crude and ponderous. Even the
simple act of starting them feels utterly alien.
Pressing the starter button always induces a
strange pulling of the bike right to left as the
starter motor grapples with pulling and
pushing the two pistons back and forth faster
and faster until it coughs into life. You literally
feel the first few strokes as long individual
deliberate pulls, and then the ignition catches
and in an already out-of-breath way the bike
comes alive. When I was a student I had an
R65 which I called Sopwith, in my mind I’d
shout ‘contact‘ to my engineer before
thumbing the starter. It kind of handled like
an old biplane as well, staggering all over the
road. In hindsight I should have labelled it
Fokker or Albatros, but then I’ve never been
that accurate with my references.
The GS-PD really isn’t that far removed from
the old R65, the engine is the same ‘type 247’,
if anything the motor lurches around all the
more given its greater capacity. But unlike the
old R65 this bike stands tall and it feels all the
more mighty given the big tank and high
fairing. With its town and country tyres it
looks very rugged too. The controls though are
quite light, the clutch doesn’t require monster
strength, the throttle twists lightly in your
palm. So clunk the old girl into gear – the
gearbox is on the deliberate side of positive
– and head out onto the open road.
Immediately the riding position makes a
significant impression. The bars are high and
wide, but the saddle is high too – and so are
the footpegs. Maybe BMW was still working
hard on off-road ground clearance with this
model, but the pegs are much higher than
you anticipate and if you adopt the standing
position, say for a touch of gravel road riding,
or desert-crossing, then you’d probably need
to spec’ some higher bar risers, or ride with a
stoop. But for cruising the backroads it doesn’t
get much better, this is armchair territory.
What will become apparent very quickly
is how modest 60hp feels today. It’s by no
means shockingly slow, but speedy it ain’t.
Acceleration is deliberate (that word again)
and with just five ratios you’re getting close
to maximum cruising speed a lot sooner than
you might imagine. Later GSs, like the 1150
and 1200 have been oriented more to
autobahn bashing, but back in 1987 the GS
was still a little road machine, so by 110km/h
you’re pretty much there. Above this
everything is getting strained – not least the
capabilities of this machine to slow, let alone
stop, in anything like a hurry. But noodling
along at 100-115km/h it’s very relaxing.
And while yes the brakes aren’t flash – there
are aftermarket upgrades to be readily found
– the rest of the ride is good. This PD has an
Öhlins shock and that gives a very welldamped
ride, which along with the Paralever
eradicates much of the pitching you might
associate with long travel adventure bikes.
And you can of course very easily revel in the
laid back growl (it’s not a purr, nor a howl,
more like a low-pitch bulldog warning-growl)
of the airhead motor. It’s unique and you can
understand the motor’s fan base. This is
motorcycling the way we recall – simple
motor, simple pleasures.
Finally it probably pays not to be too fussy about
instruments and controls. Back in the 1980s BMW
took a robust view on such design, so you get big
clocks and big switches. They look crude, to be
frank. Not so much tactile as sturdy.
But who cares? The horizon beckons and
with nothing much more than a plug spanner,
a pair of pliers and a flat screwdriver you’re
ready for action. There’s a charm in the
simplicity, but also a sense of dependability.
Yeah, simple pleasures are the best.
62 KIWI RIDER