Is this my newest vintage bike, or my oldest modern bike? Because of the disc brakes up front, 12 volt electrics and sufficient power, I vote for the latter.

I bought this bike from Cascade BMW (RIP 2000) when I still lived in the Seattle area. It happened this way: I wandered into Cascade one day in 1997 and Paul, the owner, was very excited. He had just received his first brand new K1200RS from BMW and was personally breaking it in as a demonstrator. He pretty much forced the key into my hand to take it out on a ride.

You may have noticed that none of my BMWs is a K bike. They are nice enough, and I have tried out several in the past, but they just don't do much for me. (A year later, Paul, Steve and I went for a ride out to Neah Bay, and Paul and I swapped bikes for a while on the way back. That proved to me that I could personally ride faster, even on fairly tight sections, on a K1200RS than my personal R1100RS. I've still never owned one, however.)

Anyway, it was a typical Seattle day — rainy. I went out on the bike, but I was very aware of how it wasn't broken in, that it was a bit top heavy, the streets were full of muck, and so on. I didn't go far and I didn't push it at all. When I came back, I feigned what I hoped was just enough excitement to appease Paul without giving him the idea that I was going to buy one. I don't think I completely convinced him with my performance, either.

Two weeks later, I again ventured into the shop. This was the rare, sunny, warm spring day. And, as if to match the weather and my mood, there were two beautiful airheads standing on the floor. One was a pearl white 1984 R100CS Last Edition. It was gorgeous. Next to it was a 1975 R90S in Silver Smoke TT paint. I looked at one, and then the other. It turned out that they had both been traded in as a partial downpayment on a new K1200RS.

While I was looking over the R90S, Paul sneaked up behind (or maybe I was oblivious to everything else). "If you stare at it any harder, you'll burn the paint off it" he said. "You should take it out for a test ride."

Well, he didn't have to ask twice. At this time I was riding my R1100RS. I had kind of forgotten about the visceral feel of an old airhead. The R90S, with its accelerator pump Dell'Orto carbs had a wonderful intake roar when the throttle was turned smartly. The uncontrolled rise in the rear end at the same time seemed to give me a kick in the butt. I was enjoying it a lot and took it out to Union Hill Rd. to get a few turns in.

When I got back, Paul saw me ride up and came out. I was still taking my helmet off when he accosted me. "Hmph, I can see what you like." "What? What do you mean?" "You were out for 10 minutes on the new K1200RS, but you've been gone an hour on this bike!" So, I had to buy it.

That summer, I rode the S out to the Washington State club's rally. I had just registered and was riding around the fairgrounds looking for a suitable spot to set up my tent, when this older guy walks up to me and says "That's my bike!" I think he was perhaps a bit sorry to have traded it. "Not any more, it's not!"

The next winter I rode it down to LA. I left it at my friend Randy's place, promising to visit it (and Randy, too) often. This was such a sweet deal. Randy is meticulous about his bikes. I'm sure he thinks I'm a pig; my bikes are always dirty. If it's nice enough to wash a bike, it's certainly nice enough to go riding is my motto. When I bought my R1200ST from Laurie, I stayed in LA long enough to get through the 600 mile break in period and service. It was dry and sunny the whole time, and yet, when Randy saw it after being in my hands for only a few days, he commented that I had already Darrylized it, which was really a very kind way of saying it was disgusting.

When I left the R90S with him, I said "Feel free to ride it when you want to, and don't worry about keeping it clean." Yeah, right. I knew that would never happen. What it did was give him a jones for an old airhead, so when he bought two airheads for himself and his wife Patti, it ended up costing him a fair bit of change. And then I would fly down when the weather was crappy in Seattle, pick up a pristine bike, go for a week long ride and get it dirty, then drop it back off and say "don't bother about the bike", knowing all along that he would have it spiffed up again in a day or two. I don't know why he still talks to me, really. And sadly, the R90S has not been as clean and beautiful since.