jacktheriepe


Ripped apart by the “R” crowd at Das Rally!


By Jack Riepe #116117


BY THE TIME THE gentle BMW rider reads these words, it is likely that I will already be dead. Not from the exotic diseases that have wracked my body


since the close of last year...Not at the hands of acquaintances I made while in the Brazilian Witness Protection Program (where I was placed as a piano player in a house of ill repute)... And not from the occasional run-in with former spouses, who are driven to madness at the mere mention of my name... But torn apart by the mob at the recent MOA rally in Hamburg, New York...Ripped into still-writhing pieces by a howling pack of iconic “R” bike riders out for blood. And why? Is it because I dare to put the


motorcycle in perspective as the most sensual machine ever devised by humankind? Is it because I trans- late riding’s most humanistic aspects—speed and the need to pro- create—into common understanding and logic? Is it because that guy in Wisconsin, who really hates my writ- ing, gained traction among blood- thirsty cheesers? No. It is because I was compelled to


speak out for my own kind: the true Teutonic unicorn riders of the world; those who understand mechanical perfection; those who seek the purity of speed and the balance of raw power—“K” bike riders. On the sec- ond day of “Das Rally,” I launched the “Secret K Bike Club,” a vapor-like group of riders whose identities are


116 BMW OWNERS NEWS August 2016


not readily known to each other, and whose very existence has been reduced to near rumor within BMW riding circles. In standing up for this class of benignly neglected BMW riders, I set in motion a lupine-like response that would leave me a dead man. Once regarded as the future of Germanic


nomadic highway hoards, “K” bike riders briefly enjoyed recognition as devotees of “The Flying Brick,” as the early K 100s and the K 75s came to be known. But they were always out-whispered and out-conspiracy- ed by “R” bike riders. This is because the “R” bike has been around longer. Intro- duced in 4000 BC during the reign of Pha- raoh Imo Hotep IV, the “R” bike has remained pretty much the same since then. Various cooling systems have been tried during the last 6000 years, creating three subclasses: “Airheads,” “Oilheads” and the latest water-based mutation, “Fish Heads.” (At least one of these groups remains a powerful force in BMW moto circles, with their own meetings and undisclosed mechanical rituals, several of which seem to involve farm animals.) Previously venerated “K” bikers have


been driven into oblivion. Once easily identified by vast herds of K 75s, whose collective whines deafened those five miles distant, these seldom-seen riders now slink from shadow to shadow, dodging anything with cylinders poking out the sides. And what’s their crime? A barely-controllable passion for two-wheeled machinery that pushes performance to unimaginable limits. Since 1985, “K” bike engines have gone


through more positions than a sideshow contortionist. Their engines have been flat- tened, slanted, bent and miniaturized to the current configuration, which boasts six cylinders in a case the size of a Zippo


lighter. Each change advances the bike an additional two or three hundred horse- power, requiring speedos that begin at 80 mph, and shifters that offer third through ninth gears only. This is in bold contrast to the basic design of the “R” bike’s horizon- tally opposed jugs, initially suggested by a cave painting of a Sumerian woman carry- ing water. There is nothing iconic about the “K”


bike. With square fairings, square head- lamps, and square engines, the overall appeal of the early K 100s and K 75s was an acquired taste, like peanut butter on sushi. The bike was so peculiar-looking that many riders assumed BMW “K” designers had unlisted phone numbers and worked independently of each other. It has been suggested, in “R” bike café society, that the K 75 is what you get when breeding giraffes with zebras. The style of these machines so taxes the eyes that it is easy to overlook they have the kind of flawless power curves usually associated with lingerie models. The most beautiful “K’ bikes ever built


were the 2004 K 1200 GTs, the machines that featured 50 horsepower for each ele- gantly executed French curve in a seem- ingly seamless fairing that could only be removed using Gandalf ’s staff. This situa- tion was rectified by the K 1300, a bike so homely that it can be parked in a bad neighborhood with the keys in it and the engine running without fear of theft. It should be noted that the top speed of the K 1300 can only be calculated by using square roots and equations as long as the Blue Ridge Parkway. (I want one as soon as I can walk again.) Weighing in at 34,000 pounds (dry), the K 1600 combines the sophistica- tion of interstellar space travel with visual design elements of the 1974 Buick Regal. (I want one of these, too, the bike not the Buick, for the day when I set off on my


lifestyle


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