Every time I lay eyes on the K1200R Sport my pulse races and my palms sweat. In weaker moments I think I'm in love, but I know it’s just lust. And we all know how men are brought down by their lust. I wanted to avoid that part of it if I could, so I kept not booking a test ride – I was afraid I‘d like it so much that I’d buy one on the spot and then have to break the news to my wife. “Honey, before you hear it from someone else, I behaved inappropriately at the motorcycle shop today.” Are there any biblical passages I could cite?Alex, the owner of the shop, surprised me saying that nobody wanted them, that he’d only sold two K12R Sports during the two years they were in production (2007-08). The fully-faired S and naked R models have sold fine, well enough that both models have been kept in BMW’s lineup, uprated with the new 1300 motor and various other goodies. Now he’s got two more R Sports he’s trying to move, and still nobody wants them, even discounted €1500 from the MSRP of €15,500.
I found it hard to believe the R Sport was held in such disregard, as the half-faired styling, monstrous powerplant and electronic gadgetry all appeal to me mightily, but what do I know? Well, first I know that I like the GS boxers, and should probably keep shopping in that lineup to be happy. But I also know that I’ve got a weakness for sleek bikes with big muscles. (Read into it what you will.)
So would I really want a bike everyone else has steered clear of? What do they know that I don’t? And, more practically, would I ever really want to forego the upright observation deck of the GS for a leg-cramped crouch missile? If I were buying today, would I stay with the cozy comfort of my beloved boxer’s DNA, or go ‘hike the Appalachian Trail’ with a steroidal Sports-Tourer?
Finally, the lust becomes too much. I gotta fly to Argentina for a little dancing in the moonlight - time for that test ride. Thursday afternoon Vince meets me at the dealer to fly the chase plane while I see if supersonic shock waves are in my future. I settle into the comfortable seat, quickly acclimating to the forward-leaning, toes-pointed-down riding position. We launch. Will this be a love story at the end of the day?
First impressions are mixed. It’s got bags and bags of power, but the clutch engagement is way out at the finger tips so I keep messing up my clutch release with too much throttle, resulting in some fearsome lunges at awkward moments. It takes a few miles before I start to get it right. The gear lever goes snick-snick-snick easier than any Beemer I’ve ever ridden, and I have to keep an eye on the gear indicator to see what gear I’m in as I keep upshifting without really meaning to. For a while I wonder if it’s got some kind of automatic upshift feature. (It doesn’t.)
Ten minutes into the ride I find myself coasting through a tiny village called Brugg, politely minding the 50 kph speed limit by just holding in the clutch and rolling through quietly. Passing the “Leaving Brugg” sign at the not-very-far end of town I slip the clutch and roll on the gas, this time enjoying the massive surge of power. Out of curiosity I glance at the gear indicator. Holy torque monster, I’m in 6th gear! Yet the bike just pulls cleanly away, the engine moaning out the name of the town as it delivers its 135 ponies and 85-or-so ft-lbs of torque to the rear wheel.
Another 30 minutes of test ride and I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve rolled on the power in a higher gear than I meant to be in. My 1150GS is no slouch in the torque department, boasting 75 ft-lbs, but it needs 2nd or 3rd gear for hard acceleration out of these same villages. It would buck and snort if you tried to come up from 1500 rpm in 6th. The juggernaut K shrugs it off with a yawn. Gear? Not important. You want to yank your arms out of their sockets? Try 2nd or 3rd. Or 4th. You want smooth? Try 5th or 6th. I never really figured out what 1st was for. Drag strip? The locomotive power of this motor is loco alright.
By half way through the test it becomes clear that while the K1200R Sport looks great and has massive power, it’s just not suited to the single-lane farm roads and Alpine curves where I spend the majority of my time. It belongs on the Autobahns and main roads far from here. The deep well of unusable power quickly becomes senseless. The long wheelbase which no doubt makes it stable at higher speeds makes it unwieldy here. If I’d had time to take it for a long day to the Alps and back, I might’ve found a soulmate. But here in my backyard, it’s pointless and a bit frustrating.
Bottom line, she’s not such a great dance partner after all. I'd love to have one as the third or fourth bike in my dream garage, but not as my one-and-only. Now I see why Alex has had trouble moving them. A better bike for the local riding profile would be any of the boxer twins, including my 7-year old 1150GS. Granted, that’s strictly a regional observation. I’d seriously consider the R Sport if I still lived in So Cal and spent time on freeways, or if I lived in Munich and had to drive two hours to get to the Alps. The R Sport reminds me of my old FJ1200, but an FJ with the faults worked out. Like the FJ, the R Sport’s strength is its straight-line acceleration, not its handling in the slow twisty bits.
On the plus side, the fueling is fantastic, especially considering the amount of power you’re trying to marshal. This fact became especially important during a downpour. On that topic, the weather protection feels just right, blocking the bulk of the rain but allowing enough wind flow to ease the weight on your wrists at any speed above 80 kph. Finally, the whole package feels sportier than it looks, and like any well-balanced bike, its weight disappears once you get rolling. Good thing, as it’s no lightweight, tipping the scales at 237 kilos / 521 lbs.
Perhaps, though, the best part of the test ride for me was when a couple of riders passed the other way. As we all executed the appropriate “Hail Brother of the Wheel” hand gestures, I simply felt sooo much cooler on the R Sport than Vince looked sitting behind me on my own GS. Now that’s the kind of feeling that can sell a bike regardless of its shortcomings. It’s hard to put a price tag on that.
Speaking of price, I think the biggest question any potential buyer should be asking is, why should I spend fourteen grand for a bike that looks and acts essentially like a Suzuki Bandit 1250 ABS? Okay, the Bandit doesn’t have Electronic Suspension Adjustment, shaft drive, or a spinning propeller status symbol, and it’s got “only” 98 HP and 78 ft-lbs of torque on tap compared to the Beemer’s 135 HP and 85 ft-lbs. (Hardly much difference, when you’ve no place to use the power.) But get this: the Bandit lists for €8590, a savings of €5,410. That’ll buy you a lot of gas, gadgets, gear and goodies. Funny, but I’ll bet the Suzuki dealer up the hill has sold more than two Bandits in two years.
Okay, the R Sport does some things the Bandit will never be able to do. For example, the patented Duolever front end of the K bikes has almost zero dive or compression under braking, which is awesome to experience even as it gives you the eerie feeing of being on some kind of single-axis 2-D riding simulator, where all you have control of is bank angle and velocity. The Telelever front end of my GS also separates braking and steering forces, but it still compresses during braking and extends during acceleration, giving a modicum of ‘normalcy’ to the riding experience. The Duolever’s Hossack-type construction has all the pitching moments of a train. A tiny, fast, maneuverable train, I mean.
Personally, I had no trouble feeling confidence with what the front wheel was doing in both wet and dry conditions, though other testers have complained of “vagueness.” Maybe I’m just used to it from my GS’s Telelever front. The overall ride of the R Sport was very, very composed – and I never even tried switching between ESA modes as I didn’t want to enter more variables into a one-hour test ride than necessary. I just left it in ‘normal’ mode, and it felt perfectly suited to the road surfaces, my weight and riding style. I also didn’t try to learn all the features of the on-board computer, switchable on the left handlebar with a button marked ‘info.’ Suffice it to say you do get a lot of technology for your extra dough.
In the past I’d seen a lot of K12 bikes – S, R, and R Sport – with aftermarket tubular handlebars, and now I know why. The stock bars are just not-quite ergonomic, and are not adjustable. The only way I found to get my hands to fit properly on the bars was to do the funky chicken with my elbows. Then my hands fit, but I didn’t feel quite so cool. Maybe you get used to it. Cluck cluck.
After the test ride, it was a pleasure to be back on my GS, which not only was born and bred for the kind of riding I do here, but which is completely dialed in to me ergonomically. Yep, there’s no place like home. And I know now for pretty darned sure that my next bike will be another boxer, probably the 12GS. I guess that’s the end of my crush on the K1200R Sport. I’m glad I could satisfy my curiosity without having to break any news to my wife. No press conferences for me, thanks.
