2001 BMW R1150GS

2001 BMW R1150GS – 43,000 miles, 43,000 pounds, 43,000 times more fun than sportbikes

As I tend to do, I have recently become preoccupied by the idea of a new BMW. This time however, the manifestation of my longing has only two wheels instead of four. I don’t know how it happened, but I decided that I’d really like to take the Incredibly Understanding Wife around on the back of a motorcycle and see this fine nation. Or at least, this fine area very close by our house. Or maybe I would just commute to work on it by myself. I dunno, something. Whatever. It was a romantic notion.

If I was going to force the IUW onto the back of a bike, It couldn’t be the torturous pillion accommodations afforded by my track-prepped SV1000s. I needed something more grand. More luxurious. More appealing. More German.

An K1200RT would be the right bike for sure. Knowing that, I decided to become preoccupied with an R1150GS instead. Tall, rugged, strong, black… it’s everything I wish I was. I began dreaming about it, and what started as Internet research snowballed almost overnight into full-fledged obsession.

The IUW, seeing my compulsive buying behaviors begining to surface, tried to nip this whole process in the proverbial bud.

“Honey, we can’t get one.”

“Of course not, I know.” I reply as I surf craigslist and email a seller to ask for more detailed pics, “It’s dumb.”

“Seriously, honey, we can’t afford that.” the IUW, now clearly vexed, strains to see the laptop screen.

“I’m not gonna buy it. But check it out – Ohlins shocks front and rear! And full luggage! This is really a deal!”

“We’re not buying one, honey. We can’t.”

“I know. We’re not.”

“Okay, I hear your words, but it feels like we are buying one. You just emailed the seller!

“That’s just because I am curious. Because even though we aren’t buying one, I might, you know, have to buy this one.”

“You need to stop looking. Are those heated grips?”

“I am not looking. Yes, they are heated grips! Holy crap this thing is awesome!” I reply, and then I email a dealer to ask when I can test ride the perfect bike I have just found.

The dealer says Tuesday. I say perfect. I email on Tuesday to confirm, and the bike has sold. I weep. Just a little. Like a man, though. A rugged, tall weeping. The dealer says that another bike, very much like the one I am pining for, the one I never even saw or touched but that had somehow become part of my very soul, the one whose sale severed the only link I had to true bliss and eternal enlightenment, the dealer said another bike like it would be coming into his shop in just two weeks. This other bike belonged to a regular customer whom this dealer knows well and trusts and who takes good care of his bikes. Would I like first right of refusal on that similar bike?

My heart skipped, my stomach leapt to my throat. Could it be? Could fate be so clearly forcing me to buy an R1150GS? Even when the one I need so badly has sold and left me hopeless and gasping for breath, another emerges on the distant horizon, staring mistily at me, pawing the ground gently and tossing its wild mane as the rising sun glints off its dewy sweat-soaked coat. I cannot argue with destiny. I agree.

And then it’s my birthday. The IUW gets me a little box, wrapped beautifully. In it, another box. In that box, another, like a series of Russian dolls, each tightly packed inside the other and gaily decorated.

And in the last box, a funny-shaped key.

Thanks entirely to the IUW, Kevict, my mom, and a very clever salesman from BMW of Santa Cruz ,there, outside of my folks’ house (only recently PUSHED to that place of rest by Kevict himself, who had sneaked away under the guise of visiting his own parents who live nearby and fetched said bike, whose key was wrapped and waiting for me to find it and thus he bike was not able to move under its own power) was the R1150GS. The very one that had sold the day before I was able to see it. The very lifeblood that I thought had been sapped from me! It was there in my parents’ driveway, magnificent and regal, big and scary, clean as the proverbial whistle and as real as the nose on my extremely surprised and seriously confused face.

When the dealer told me the bike had sold, I never once thought it might have sold to Kevict and Megan, my IUW, who bought it for me. And unbeknownst to them I had been trying to buy it for myself, nearly ruining the surprise. What a heel! What a fool! What a lucky lucky sonofabitch!

They did it all without my even beginning to know anything was afoot. I have never been more surprised. I really am the luckiest boy ever, to have people who care about me so much.

It’s better than I ever imagined. And look – Ohlins shocks front and rear!

This entry was posted on Wednesday, September 5th, 2007 at 11:38 pm and is filed under Motorcycles, R1150GS, Vehicles. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.