America’s Grand Motorcycle Tour

 I have a bad habit of making eye contact. For that reason, and others, I tend to attract more than my share of strays. Some bite, some don’t, but when a Gypsy blocked my way on San Francisco’s Fisherman’s Wharf, I figured the night was about to get interesting. With Halloween and the black moon rising in tandem, I sensed it would be unwise to insult this small woman with black hair and impenetrable eyes. “I see something rare in you,” she confided. Then, capturing my hand in a surprisingly warm grasp, she promised, “For ten dollars I will tell you the truth.”

 I wasn’t sure that I’d recognize the truth if it appeared as the Grim Reaper wearing a sandwich board with my name on it, but I nonetheless took a seat in an ancient folding chair and watched her puzzle over my palm. “I see you will live to an old age,” she said, using a long fingernail to trace my life line. “And you will have a great passion in your life,” she continued, tracing another strong line. “You will make money, but never be rich.” She shrugged, “And I see something else,” the Gypsy admitted. “You will soon depart on a great adventure.”

If nothing else was true, she got the part about the adventure right. During the coming week I’d be riding a new motorcycle through northern California as part of BMW of North America’s Best Test in the West.

BMW’s concept is simple but brilliant. Invite John or Jane Q. Public to tour one of three routes: a traverse of California’s northern coast, a ride from Las Vegas to Death Valley or the Grand Canyon, or an undulating exploration of Colorado’s Central Rockies. Then, if John or Jane buys a BMW motorcycle—at whatever screaming good deal he or she can negotiate within three months of the test—BMW will refund $750 in leathers, helmets, luggage or other accessories.

What makes BMW’s Best Test in the West unusual is that the manufacturer is actually letting buyers ride. Why is that so rare? Well, unlike car dealers, who will pay just to get you behind the wheel, motorcycle dealers hate to even start up their bikes in the parking lot. That’s because the average superbike has 130 horsepower mated to 600 pounds. In plain English, we’re talking about the same power-to-weight ratio as a Sidewinder missile. Hand this weapon to an 18 year-old high testosterone tire kicker with a 1,000 yard stare and a twitchy wrist and, too often, you can kiss your $16K sport bike goodbye.

But to its credit, BMW wants you to ride one of these bikes. And what bikes they are! In this country BMW sells touring models (meant for long highway hauls), dual-purpose bikes (that can be ridden both on-and-off-road), and new last year, cruisers (meant to evoke Harley Davidson dreams, but with BMW smoothness and reliability).  On our trip, the sport tourer was yellow, silver and checkerboard K1200RS; the cruiser was a mother-of-pearl-painted R1200C. And lastly, there was the dual-purpose, pit bull-like R1100GS.

 BMW had found, however, that just handing potential buyers the keys to these bikes wasn’t enough. The company wanted to offer something unique, so it brought in Werner Wachter, an expert in leading motorcycle tours. Wachter, an Austrian, created Edelweiss Bike Travel Tours in 1980, when he guided two fellow countrymen on a ride up the California coast. In the 17 years since, Edelweiss has grown to offer 150 different trips in 30 countries. Europe is a major focus of Wachter’s business, but the Colorado Rockies, the Southwest, and the California coast now play an increasingly important part in his company’s 2,300 annual bookings.

 The majority of Edelweiss’ clients are professionals in their mid-forties who don’t have time to research the best roads or book a half-dozen reservations at historic hotels and fine restaurants. Other than the provisos that guests have at least 5,000 miles of road-riding experience, have a valid motorcycle license, be 21 or older, and refrain from racing, Wachter places few restraints on his clients. Because of differences in age and experience, riders set their own pace. A majority prefer to follow Edelweiss’ guides, but for those who wish to strike out on their own, there are maps and a book that give directions to interesting sites along the route, as well as the way to the best afternoon lunch stop, and notes about how to get to the evening’s hotel.

 From San Francisco our group planned to follow Highway 1 to Mendocino and the Avenue of the Giants; the return route headed south through Calistoga and wine country back to San Francisco. It was midmorning when we slipped beneath the Golden Gate’s twin red towers and climbed to the Marin Headlands that look back to San Francisco.

 Highway 1 was made for motorcycles. Less than 50 miles north of San Francisco the two-lane road climbed onto the high, rocky cliffs that fought the crashing surf, snaked through dark forests, and only slowed for the weathered coastal towns of Jenner, Gualala, and Point Arena.

 The GS’ 1,100 cc twin-cylinder pulled like a Percheron between Stinson Beach and Bodega Bay and transported me back to Steve McQueen in The Great Escape. Only 16 at the time, I was hypnotized by the scene in which McQueen steals a Triumph from a German soldier and tries to flee to Switzerland. It did not matter that the Triumph was a Brit bike, or that McQueen eventually slids into a barbed wire fence. From that point on I was obsessed with bikes.

 Above Jenner, where Autumn’s yellow ryegrass and fragrant eucalyptus shadow Highway 1, I realized that the smooth pavement and banked turns did little to challenge the R1100GS. The bike’s generous ground clearance, stout midrange torque, Telelever front suspension, and strong frame were designed for the Sahara, Siberia or Central America—lands where the bike’s long-distance comfort and bomb proof dependability are the stuff great adventures are made of.

 North of the Point Arena, Highway 1 skirted a weathered, rocky sentinel where the waves exploded into hanging curtains of rainbow-tinted foam. During the summer, motor homes slow traffic to a crawl on this winding ribbon of asphalt, but on this sunny late-October day we were nearly always alone on this perfect road.

It was after dark when we pulled into the coastal town of Mendocino. Built in 1878, the Mendocino Hotel overlooks the Pacific, where massive swells rise with a hissing, thundering power.

 That night the hotel’s lobby bar was jammed with costumed revelers. A huge Hershey’s Kiss nodded to an aging pirate, who in turn tried to avoid eye contact with two cross dressed men conversing in basso profundos. Our group—tightly wrapped in leather, had no problem fitting in.

 Halloween’s howls, hilarity, and rituals gave way to a foggy, gray morning that settled like an impenetrable shroud around the hotel. A heavy dew speckled the six-gallon tank of the K1200RS when I hit the electric start and listened to the water-cooled four settle into an easy idle.

 Because of its fuel-injected, four-valves-per-cylinder, 130-up four, Telelever front suspension, and adjustable rider ergonomics designed for high speeds and long distances, I developed a serious crush on this bike. Add racy graphics and a light aluminum frame on a slippery silhouette, and you have one of the world’s premier sport tourers.

 Unfortunately, from Mendocino to Fort Bragg, the fog clouded my visor, forcing me to creep up my way up the coast at a sedate and potentially dangerous 15mph. East of Rockport, however, Highway 1 climbed into coastal forests where the fog evaporated, the redwoods lifted into a sunny sky, and the pavement snaked back on itself, whipping in grand arcs from corner to corner.

 This was a road to challenge the K1200RS that devoured curves and distances in great howling surges. When I finally slowed for the town of Leggett on Highway 101, if there had been a waiting sales contract, I would have singed it in an instant.

 Movie buffs will recognize the R1200C cruiser, with its opposed twin engine, as James Bond’s mount in Tomorrow Never Dies. Like the RS, it has a Telelever front end, disc brakes, futuristic good looks, and an immaculate finish that offers a classy, polished alternative to the cruiser crowd.

 The public’s response to the R1200C’s architecture took me by surprise. Guys with gray in their hair, stubble on their cheeks, and backseats full of kids rolled down their windows to yell “Bitchin’ cruiser!”

 Far more disturbing was the highway patrolman who appeared next to me while I was slightly over Highway 101’s 65 mph speed limit. Fortunately, Wachter got us off. “I said I was Austrian and was leading some friends on a tour of California,” he said with a shrug. “The officer said Highway 101 wasn’t an autobahn and warned us to slow down.”

 “Why didn’t he question us?” I inquired.

 “Yes, well, that. . .” Wachter said. “I told him you didn’t speak English.”

 We spent that night in Santa Rosa’s Fountain Grove Inn and departed the following morning for Calistoga and California wine country. The maple trees, ash trees, and grapevines glowed orange, red and yellow, yet the roads were surprisingly empty on this Technicolor fall weekend.

 Wachter led us to Sterling Vineyards for a private tour on which the guide described how the winery’s classic reds and whites were produced. Wine and horsepower typically add up to a bad mix of false courage and impaired reactions, so Wachter insisted we limit the obligatory tasting to a few sips before turning south, down Highway 80 and across the Bay Bridge back into San Francisco.

 By any standard, BMW’s Best Test in the West is a win-win deal. If after riding a new BMW for five days through California’s rocky ocean coast, the desert, or the Rocky Mountains, you don’t decide to buy the bike, then you still have experienced one of the world’s great motorcycle tours.

 My problem is, I’m having trouble putting the images into words. In an attempt to make it easier, I opened BMW’s web page and captured a photo of the K1200RS, which I then pasted to my computer’s screen saver. I can’t say the yellow checkerboard Bimmer has made me more creative, and it may be just a case of wishful thinking to believe I’ll own one by next summer, but as a screen saver, it beats the hell out of flying toasters and tropical fish.

For Information About Edelweiss World Wide Bike Tours Contact:

https://www.edelweissbike.com