Boxer from /5:
BMW Motorcycles from 1969 to 1985
by Andy Schwietzer, Bodensteiner Verlag, 2007
ISBN 9783980663151

Analysis and Review by Robert Hellman, OTL December 2007

Some months back we gave you a peek into the Eberhard Sarfert era at BMW. Now here is a specialized book about another finite period in Beemer history. Specifically, it is the first of two volumes and covers airhead Boxer with twin rear shocks, 1969-1985. The second volume in progress and will cover monolever and paralever models. It sounds like a narrow topic, but though translated rather shakily from the German, it is a good read. It has much more inside stuff than Fascination Boxer, for example, and it has been rendered into English (or a fair approximation thereof).

In addition, author Andy Schwietzer gets cheeky with his material here and there, bolstered by exclusive interviews and bold assertions presumably provided on background. Accordingly, we learn about battles behind the scenes for this model or that. People in high places were dead set against the R90S? A senior BMW marketer thought the R100RS would be a debacle because its looked "like a roll-top desk?" That is way cool stuff, and grist for OTL's mill.

The Oldest Battle
From the very beginning in 1923, when the sainted Max Friz opposed producing a much more powerful version of his seminal R32 machine, BMW has always had its share of daisy-sniffers and sticks-in-the-mud, locked into battle with the sport-crazed wild men for the "soul of the company." Among the latter early on was Martin Stolle, who grew so frustrated with Friz's opposition that he bolted for rival Victoria.

Nor would the battle end there. The great Rudolph Schleicher would soon return to BMW from Horex to champion the R37, the first truly race-biased BMW on two or four wheels. Lucky for him, Friz had moved on to cars permanently by then.

In this worthy book, Andy Schwietzer reveals the same dynamic at work in the early 1970s. This he does well and often.

Though the book has bits we have seen before, it has new stuff too, and all of it is put together nicely in a 168-page monograph. The fact that the English translation is dubious at points is at most a minor consideration for us—but we shall tackle that first, given that it might influence your readiness to buy the book.

Elements of Style
The Chefredakteur, having style-edited BMW's Road to Formula One for BMW Mobile Tradition, can tell you that German books on BMW often neglect to undergo that final little step when rendered into English. Mönnich's huge BMW Story, for example, has wholly unintelligible translation passages that would require a day up at Ft. Meade to make sense of. This can make reading the narrative—if you can even call it that— a matter of stop and go, fits and starts. Schwietzer's book has a little of that, but nothing on the order of Mönnich. One does read:

"However, orders were not forthcoming in sufficient numbers considered, and BMW had dropping bike production."

But neither of OTL's Germanophile editors (RH nor MH) attribute that to outright bungled translation—move the word "sufficient" to the slot before the comma and it is fine. Rather it is a matter of the occasional trite metaphor ('raining cats and dogs") or a faux pas; e.g., referring to "Jap" bikes, parts, and so on:

"The German bike had certain qualities which Jap bikes lacked, the R90S, for instance, offered exclusivity. With a BMW, you were seen to be somebody."

Somebody who was a racist snob? Nah, this is just infelicitous language, we think. And but none of was enough to quell the enjoyment of this book for us.

Schwietzer's target readership is not really OTL, however, given the earnestness of his whole presentation. The prime audience is more likely to be amateur historians of the company, along with the Larry Sparbers of the world who like to keep track of the replacement or evolution of every little whizzle wazzle. And please take note: we say this with simultaneous admiration and befuddlement.

Had we written this book, we would have taken more chances and been at least occasionally funny. As it is, though, the general Beemer world readership is probably better off. What did Nietzsche say? "We are not the mouth for those ears."

One irrefutable non-style quibble though, this book should have been furnished with an index. Lots of charts, but no index at all?

Revelatory Interviews
Much of the history part, in turn, we knew from Stefan Knittel's authoritative (but untranslated) BMW Motorräder, but not all of it. There are, for example, new interviews with Rüdiger Gutsche, Horst Splintler, Richard Heydenreich, Hans-Günther von der Marwitz, Ekkehard Rapelius, and Fritz Lottmann. And all credit to him, Schwietzer gets them to say something other than boilerplate. Von der Marwitz in particular isn't shy and goes in for shots like this one about the /5:

"The distribution company came up with silly ideas like useless battery panels or stuff like the 'toaster tanks' with chromed sides."

And

"If the sales and promotion people had been a bit more professional than merely 'distributing' the motorcycles, more machines would have been sold at a much lower price."

He considered the R90S part and parcel of the problem, asserting that the "chassis could not cope" with the added power. By contrast, the same von der Marwitz would become one of the greatest champions of the R100RS.

This makes us wish all the more that Schwietzer had collared famous R90S in-house advocate Bob Lutz, now busy saving General Motors. But OTL knows all too well how reluctant active executives are to burn bridges. The fact that Schwietzer got what he did is remarkable enough.

There is, of course, always a price exacted for access. We do not know for a fact, but we would bet the interviewees and the big names in the Acknowledgments were afforded a look at the galleys to make sure nothing too outré made its way into print. It is hard to imagine them agreeing to talk under other circumstances, though some (designer Hans Muth?) might be more estranged than others.

Yet, at the same time, there were things slipping through that BMW Motorrad won't like, especially as, by implication, they came from one or more of the people interviewed—though often no names are given. We learn, for example, that superior Japanese switchgear was rejected in one case because it was Japanese. Motometer anyone? God help us!

We had long suspected that BMW sometimes opted to be needlessly different out of sheer orneriness, but here is hard evidence that inferior components were knowingly sometimes used out of pure German hubris.

But no source is given for such assertions as, "even a humble Yamaha RD 250 offered better material." OTL and the US magazines had concentrated on the strangeness of the Beemer switchgear, not its quality.

An Old Battle Rejoined
At any rate, we took note of some new angles in the R90S story. And it harkens all the way back to the Max Friz—Martin Stolle power struggle.

As Schwietzer tells it, then-CEO Hans-Günther von der Marwitz was an absolute tiger in getting the /5 series into production, under precarious fiscal circumstances. With its success, however, von der Marwitz wanted to safeguard his gains by avoiding such risks as horsepower wars, which in his mind meant blocking the emerging R90S project. Together with the Board of Management, he stoutly maintained that 750cc was enough and an overpowered version would be wretched excess.

Then along came sales boss Bob Lutz, in the tradition of Martin Stolle, lobbying openly for a radical, sporty version of the /5. The old battle was rejoined, splitting BMW into rival camps. This time, of course, the radical sport guys won in every sense of the word, with the R90S not only seeing daylight, but making a statement, while selling like hell and making BMW Motorrad lots of money.

We learn that a key wild-card part in winning R90S approval was a semi-independent proof of concept bike owned by interviewee Rüdger Gutsche. Gutsche had bored out his personal R75/5 to 90mm in 1970. With a stroke of 70.6mm, the capacity went up to 898cc, yet remained reliable. More than that, Gutsche's "prototype" toasted Honda CB750s on nearby Alpine roads. When (interviewee) Hans Muth worked his bikini fairing magic on the bike, you had an elegant as well as fast bike. A classic.

Gutsche's input here is also salient. This is the same guy who would prove the concept on the eventual R80G/S. Gutsche rode prototypes to numerous European off-road victories before the G/S was greenlighted for production. R90S and R80G/S: that makes twice that he played a key role in the survival of BMW Motorrad.

But maybe still not classic enough for its original foes, says Schwietzer. The author portrays von der Marwitz as a voluble critic of R90S high-speed instability (weave). The bike sold 3 times as many units as expected, but von der Marwitz's revenge supposedly came in the form of pushing through the R100RS—an equally fast bike with state of the art high-end manners. The "statement" bike now was being offered in a form more palatable to his toney faction. And, better yet, it made money too—without the investment in a new motor.

All of this was new to OTL, and Schwietzer's book has a good number of tasty background tales like this, though you have to be alert to them—and care about them. We are and we do. We suspect Mac Kirkpatrick will understand why. These tidbits, along with the interviews and an exhaustive parts evolutionary table, are the book's unique contributions.

R65 Revelations
The Type R248, or R65 (and R45), machines earn a number of special pages in the book, given their central role in the attempt to market a mid-range bike more modern and cheaper than the R50/5. Schwietzer is sympathetic to the idea, but clear-eyed in his analysis of its eventual failure. That is to say, he echoes OTL's observation that the machine was scarcely cheaper to build than it bigger siblings.

On the other hand, this book emphasizes three other oft-ignored R248 traits: first, that the little Boxer was a terrific handler, with great cornering clearance (for a Boxer); second, that it was too heavy as a result of utilizing too many big boxer parts; and third, that the R65 didn't even reach the 50 bhp plateau where it could combine decent power with insurance perqs in Germany.

Thus the R65 was slow and expensive, and BMW ended up making no money for all its trouble. The Type 248 Boxer, like the secret unbuilt M Null successor to the big twins, exhausted resources that could have been used more wisely elsewhere. Schwietzer's account of all this is another major asset of his book.

Lessons for Today?
You can lean about the present from this book as well. It is intriguing, for example, to read of the crisis that afflicted the company in the mid-to-late '70s as a result in the fall in value of the US dollar. The motorcycle branch was poised on the abyss, due to low sales on outmoded bikes that made tiny profits, thanks to an unfavorable exchange rate. Getting the /5 series through the pipeline to production required more than mere friendly persuasion. Zealots of the mettle of "Motorcycle Pope" Helmut Werner Bˆnsch earned their nicknames for a reason.

What then are we to make of the endless dollar devaluation going on now? At the very least it is the cause of the radical streamlining BMW NA is currently undergoing. What it means for the future of the motorcycle is harder to judge, given that the US is no longer the no. 2 Beemer market.

If BMW's US dealer network could be pickled in amber to bring to life at a later date, OTL thinks BMW NA would do it. As it is, they cannot be making money on bikes. The exchange rate crisis is at least as dire as in 1969 and of far longer duration.

What we are getting at here is the hidden core truth about modern Boxer development. First, that exchange rates and money were an abiding issue when Boxer updates were contemplated. Second, certain individuals—according to von der Marwitz—blocked any attempt. Read this thrice:

"What was really needed was a modern four-valve engine with more durable valve gear at high revs, just like the ones used on modern BMW twins. Used hard, the old engine's reliability was questionable. But Alex von Falkenhausen, head of the engine development department, didn't want to know, so we had to stick to the old Boxer unit."

And:

"Compared with its competitors, BMW couldn't sell enough bikes to raise more money for regular engine updates."

And finally, the K bike monopolized major R&D funds at a time when the Boxer update was needed. This is inarguable, but no one ever seems to say it outright. We are always led to believe that noise and emissions alone were the problems, when they were just part of the problem.

Much to Look Forward to
As we said, this book is really about airhead twin-shock Boxers from 1969 to 1985. The Monolever and Paralever airheads will be treated in an upcoming book of post-R80 G/S Boxers. We hope we get a preview copy of that book as well, for we very much enjoyed this one. We even want to read his book about the EMW R35 from Eisenach. Schwietzer is a bright new light in the firmament of Beemer scholarship. He added a good deal of new information to the record, and some of it is juicy.