BERLIN’S BEAUTIFUL SOULS – ADDRESSING ALL THE R18s

Good Pics by Matt McIntyre, the rest by me

It would be fair to say I have put more miles under the wheels of BMW Motorrad’s assemblage of R18s than any other motorcycle reviewer…and possibly owner.

 

Why this is the case is neither here nor there, but what it’s done is given me an appreciation of this motorcycle you just can’t get on short rides.

To really know a bike, in the Biblical sense, you must live with it. You must ride it long and short distances. You must put it to all the manifold questions we ask our bikes all the time. Sometimes the answers aren’t what we wanted or even expected to hear. But you still have to ask, right?

So that’s what I have been doing with the R18 range. I have ridden the naked ones. I have ridden the ones with bags. I have ridden the ones with panniers. I have ridden the ones with vast fairings and stereos. And I can put my hand on my heart and say the R18 is one of the very finest cruiser-style touring bikes you will ever ride.

Firstly, it is unquestionably unique. No other bike looks like it, goes like it, or feels like it. There’s a bunch of reasons for this, which I have gone into in previous R18 reviews I have written. But it is all about that vast, insane, and outlandish boxer engine, mated to a wheelbase as long as your wait to lose your virginity, driven by an exposed shaft-drive, and buffed to BMW-levels of finish and equipage.

I could not have said any of that when it first appeared a few years ago. It was rather underdone in terms of suspension and the seat was an act of cruelty.

But Roland Stocker, the long-haired, always-smiling rocker (which is what the Germans call bikers) from BMW Motorrad, and the man who designed the R18 and caused it to become realised, was aware of this. Hell, I told him myself when I met him at the launch. It was at lunch at Bulga, and Roland was a little nonplussed at how fast some of us threw his R18 at the Putty Road.

“I do not think the bike was meant to be ridden that fast,” he grinned at me when we stopped.

 

“And now we both know better, right?” I grinned back. “Now about the seat and the suspension…”

 

Fast forward a few years, and the R18 of 2025 is not the R18 I rode on the press launch. The seat is now wonderful. The suspension is vastly improved.

It’s now quite a superb package. And yes, it is not everyone’s package. There are hard-dyed American-cruiser riders who are simply unable to countenance a variation on their V-twin theme. And that’s fine. The R18 is not meant for you. Relax. I’m not here to sell you something you ain’t never gonna buy.

 

Frankly, the R18 is nothing at all like a Harley to ride. For starters, there’s the neutral riding position. The heads prevent any feet-forward ergos, and if you fail to grasp that feet-forward thing utilises your spine as part of the suspension package, I cannot help you.

 

And just to dispel another few myths about where those heads are in relation to your feet. Unless you have misshapen feet the size of a giants’ boxing gloves, you’ll be fine. Secondly, no, the heads do not cook your feet. Not in high summer, and not in deep winter. It is true that old Harley riders like me sometimes reflexively look to stretch out our legs, but that’s our synapses playing tricks. Look, for me it’s not a biggie. For me, the R18 is super-comfy, and I have done big miles on them.

It’s got great ground clearance, relatively speaking. And it goes around corners with an integrity that belies its vast wheelbase. I’ve said before that when you start stringing corners together it feels like you’re soaring – an illusion aided by that massive boxer-twin that is always present in your field of vision.

And because BMW, heated grips are standard. Yes, I know. You don’t have them and you don’t need them and anyone who does is soft and possibly effete. And you maybe like to suffer when its cold. I was once like you. I am not like that anymore. Anything that makes me more comfortable means I will ride better because I am not suffering. Anything that saves my arse because I did something dumb, I’m a fan of. Yes, I am talking about ABS and Traction Control.

That said, I am profoundly disinterested in the R18’s choice of three riding modes, Rock, Roll, and Rain. Every R18 I have ever ridden lives in Rock. I can’t even remember what the other modes feel like. And I am in no hurry to find out. They seem redundant to me. This is not an S 1000 RR where programmable and switchable engine modes are certainly a factor for riders.

The R18 is a very different animal. It is immensely technically sophisticated, just like it’s insane sportbike relative. But that technical sophistication is tailored for glass-smooth touring at what I like to call “German speeds”. The Germans are not insane like we are about 100km/h. They have autobahns. They understand things we do not. Hence, the R18 is perfectly happy to swoosh along at 140. All day. And yes, it will go quicker than that if you have to overtake something.

 

At idle it shakes and throbs like an old Shovelhead, but not in any way that makes your hands go numb and puts you in fear for your life like an old Shovelhead does. The R18 offers the rider an engineered big-vibe-at-idle thing. It’s unique, like I said.

Its soul, if that’s any way of trying to quantify something devoid of actual life, is pure motorcycling. The engineering feats that have gone into making that a thing are amazing. The R18 is hyper-modern, but it still manages to deliver some true Old School delight in the way it goes about its business.

 

That is quite an achievement.

 

If you need specs, colours, and prices, go HERE.