Small World - The backstory for a Homecoming

My first bike was a 1982 Maxim 750. It was brand new, a leftover, when I bought it in 1984 from a small shop in Belmont, MA. Apparently Yamaha had shipped a ton more bikes to the USA in 1982 than they could sell. I was able to get a high performance custom style bike for $2600 with a new bike warranty. Lots of people got their start on those '82 leftovers. How could you go wrong for that kind of money?

The bike I really wanted was an blue '84 Honda Nighthawk S. But they were getting $3400 for those.

Sometime during my first year of riding I stopped into a Honda-Yamaha-Kawasaki dealer that also sold BMW. I was eating lunch at a Wendy's on the westbound side of Route. 9 in Natick, MA. The dealer was right next door. I remember walking over to the dealer after lunch one day. The place was filled with bikes but all I saw were the 1985 BMW K100s and the R80s the dealer had on the floor. Every time I had lunch at the Wendy's I'd wander over and stare at those BMWs. I'd never seen anything like them and they really appealed to me. I can't explain the feeling. Those bikes just made sense to me. I knew virtually nothing about BMWs (little enough about bikes in general) but the BMWs spoke to me. They said, "Buy me! Buy me!"

During one lunchtime visit the salesman at the big bike shop told me they were giving up the BMW dealership. The special tools and parts would be packed up and sent back to BMW. The remaining bikes had to go. The '85 K100RT could be had for $5400. Supposedly dealer cost. But I'd have to find someplace to take the bike for service. After they gave up the dealership they wouldn't be working on BMWs anymore.

I couldn't test ride their bikes (they hadn't been prep'd yet) and I wasn't going to buy a bike I hadn't ridden. At least not at that price. I found a shop in Arlington, MA that had a K100RS demo bike and took it out for a ride. I got on Route. 2 in Arlington and rode up towards Concord, turned around and rode back to Fresh Pond in Cambridge, and then turned around and went back up Route 2 to the shop.

Sure there was a buzz in the handlebars I'd never felt with the Maxim but the smooth almost endless power and the totally planted feel at speed (I had never broken 100 mph before) was seductive. The engine had an almost turbine like feel as it spun up. I was sold.

After obtaining the OK from Deb I headed over to the Digital Employees Federal Credit Union (I'm a charter member) where they were only too happy to lend me the obscene purchase price for the BMW. Now all I had to do was decide on whether I wanted the red one or the "Dolomite Grey" one. I picked the Dolomite. Thus began a nearly 16 year relationship with those bikes made in Berlin.

Actually this story isn't really about Beemers but rather about the interconnectedness of all things and all people. Granted the motorcycling world is pretty small. Still I often meet people who ride, heck who've been riding much longer than me, who've never heard of or met anyone I know, never belonged to a club I've joined, or owned or learned about any of the bikes I've ridden. But then there are the connections I've made in motorcycling that seem to transcend time and space. The true smallness of the world was driven home to me the other day. And it was all because of BMW motorcycles.

My riding buddy, Michael, has a K75RT. Before that he had a K75S. He also still has his first Beemer, a '71 R75/5, which predates my love affair with riding by nearly 13 years. And it wasn't his first bike. Michael has gotten back to riding in recent years after a hiatus of nearly a decade. He's unlikely to ever buy anything but a BMW. They just suit him.

For a long time I felt the way Michael does about BMWs. I never got what appealed to people about Harleys, crotch rockets, or customs. BMW had a logical, functional philosophy of motorcycle design and construction which appealed to me at a rational level. At some other level, an irrational one, the bikes appealed to an inner desire of mine. I wish I understood it. The closest analog would be love. Logic and love. Apparently I wasn't alone. Over the years, through the BMW MOA and RA I discovered there are thousands of folks around the country/world who felt (and still feel) the same way.

To continue the backstory you have to know that in the 1990s BMW decided that one thing holding them back in the USA were the "Mom and Pop" dealerships that sold and serviced their product. Some were great dealers with loyal customers and some were lousy and did nothing to promote the brand. So BMW decided to professionalize the dealership network. They started pressuring the dealers to build and move into nice new shops with big inventories, spacious workspaces for the technicians, and spacious showrooms for the expanding product line. Some dealers went along with the "upscaling" process. Some did not. One who packed it in and retired was the long time BMW enthusiast who owned the Aloha, OR dealership. By 1999 he'd had enough and closed his doors. That left Portland area BMW riders with a single shop. Unfortunately the remaining shop had a bad reputation among BMW enthusiasts. Many took their business down to Eugene or up to Seattle where enthusiastic dealers were happy to have the extra business.

Ironically I feel I had something to do with creating this mess for BMW enthusiasts in Portland. A couple of years earlier I had worked with a group of business grad students at PSU on a final project. I wasn't studying business at PSU but a coworker was and he and his team were looking for a project to finish up their degree program. I suggested analyzing the Portland motorcycle market and understanding the best marketing approach for BMW in Portland.

The team liked the idea and they and I gathered data and analyzed ownership statistics and market size. I helped buy a tape from the Oregon DMV (you could still do this in those days before identity theft and other concerns led to changed laws) with motorcycle registration data. I also helped them meet and start a relationship with the local BMW NA district representative. He'd be a key player in presenting their proposal to BMW.

To make an already long story short(er) the team did finish their study, write up a report, and finally did present it to the BMW representative. The recommendation was to close both existing dealers and create a single new large dealership to serve the Portland market.

Unfortunately the way things worked out the enthusiast shop in Aloha closed but the other dealer held on. Oregon law being what it is BMW had no leverage to wrest the dealership from the other shop. So now BMW was left with a single shop in Portland but one that few enthusiasts would care to deal with.

About a year ago (in 2005; maybe a bit earlier) a new dealer took over the franchise in Eugene and built an "upscale" shop there. I never did get down there to look at it and meet the owners and neither did Michael though he and I talked about it several times.

Finally this year the shop in Eugene publicized their April open house and Michael and I decided to go.

Saturday we woke up to heavy rain and chilly temps in the 40s. Despite this we headed down I-5 to Eugene and eventually got there sometime after noon. My son, Marc, rode his MZ 125 SX down with us. He was having carb problems that held down his speed.

Soon after we got there I spied her across a room. That's when the small world started to close in on me. I knew I knew her. But I couldn't remember her name. Finally I went up and said, "I know you!" And indeed I did! It was Marjorie who had been in my Instructor Prep course back in '94 in New Hampshire. I thought she worked at the dealership. But no. She was the (relatively) new factory rep from BMW responsible for the Pacific Northwest.

A motorcycle instructor who worked for BMW and promoted the brand in my area. Hallelujah! Maybe BMW would solve their Portland problem after all!

Turns out her previous job was managing the Northeast and she knew all the dealers and people I'd done business with over the years back in New England. Small world!

It was a day filled with connections and a kind of homecoming for me. I ate pretty good barbecue and watched the "Long Way Around" on a big screen in the shop with lots of BMW riders. I ran into Stacey the ex-President of the Portland Mercedes club. He was buying a helmet to use on his new F650GS. I had met Stacey after I bought a friend's 420 SEL several years back and needed a mechanic in Portland.

I ran into a couple of Wetleather folks, Bob Actis and another friend (whose name escapes me). I reintroduced myself to Dianne, the BMW salesperson, who I had known from my not so frequent visits to the Portland BMW shop. She and I had corresponded by email for sometime when I first considered an R1200RT.

Michael had to leave for a prior engagement. Marc and I hung around and I chatted with Marjorie and Dianne as things quieted down. Finally it was time to go. I left on an upbeat note and with a renewed committment to sell the Harley and get a new BMW. Marc's carburetor self-healed and I actually had trouble keeping up with him on the way back up I-5. Good karma? Or maybe just my fat fingering the choke cable before we left? Who knows?

After six long years I was headed back towards BMWs. But there is more to the story.