Gray clouds gathered over the Allegheny Plateau and I wished had brought my rainsuit. The BMW F800 GS is completely comfortable on the freeway and unlike my Vespa I don’t find the end of available throttle. The threat of rain and traffic moving near 80mph are of no concern. This machine can fly.

The short windscreen does a nice job of moving the air blast off the torso and over the shoulders without creating any weird helmet noise. At 70mph the bike is smooth and steady. I could shrug off a 600 mile day.

West. No destination in mind, just staying on the main roads and keeping the BMW moving fast. My parents used to take drives after church and I remember the sense of adventure standing on the floor of the car looking over the backseat excited to see what was over the next hill. Nothing’s changed as the BMW carries me along familiar roads. US322 towards Philipsburg, a beautiful stretch of road.

A person could ride the F800 GS around the world. Even now, writing months later, I can’t conceive of a situation where I would need more power, more anything. Stopped again along the highway I keep reminding myself that I should just ride and forget about the camera. Forget about scenery. Ride.

Giant tires finally get the best of me. This is coal country and big machinery still lumbers across the landscape. These tires were at least eight feet in diameter.

Having spent so much time riding (and driving for work) it’s hard to find places in Pennsylvania I’ve not wandered through. At each intersection and crossroad I turn towards the west. Moving through Clearfield County and then Jefferson County I eventually find unknown roads and manage to get to the delightful place of having no idea where I am. Just fields and bales and winding roads.

I check the fuel supply.

Standing in the road making this picture I am dangerously close to choosing farm lanes and other mysterious dirt tracks over the highway. I’ve been down those tracks before and I know I can completely lose myself in exploring and taking pictures. On this day I want to stay on the highway and go.

I see a sign for Punxsutawney, a town I’ve somehow never managed to visit save for viewings of Groundhog Day.

I spend a bit of time looking for Gobblers Knob and some evidence of the February 2nd festivities but the motorcycle call is stronger and I allow the BMW to rocket me out of town.

Riding south on US119 I realize I will be passing through Home, Pennsylvania, birthplace of one of my favorite authors Edward Abbey. His books The Fools Progress and Desert Solitaire hover near the top of my list. I’ve been on the road for five hours without stopping for food, water, or even many pictures. It’s time to head home another three hours away. At this moment I feel gratitude for the comfortable riding position.

Food, fuel and a few minutes of relaxation at the Sheetz outside Ebensburg along US 22. As people walked back and forth into the store a few stopped to look at the motorcycle. A woman, three men, and one little kid. No useful marketing demographic information to glean. It is an attractive machine. It’s grown on me over time – even in orange. It’s utility as a form of transportation and recreation are high and adding some sidecases would make it perfect for adventure or grocery shopping. At least if you don’t let your image of a BMW get in the way. Not much sexy or adventurous about grocery shopping.

Passing a group of Harleys on I99 I race ahead so I can make a picture of them passing the BMW. Almost missed it because the power button on my Canon G9 is flaky. The F800 GS could ride along all day with the big cruisers and touring bikes. Poor things would have to park and wait though when you decide to tear off up a fire trail or run across a creek to see what’s on the other side. Group rides would require patience and understanding on the part of the big bike riders.

So, that’s about it. Verdict: The BMW F800 GS is a great machine for me. Tall at first meeting even for me but after some miles didn’t seem tall at all. Power – you bet. Plenty for any legal or illegal speeds on the highway. Returning home on I99 I stayed with the pack of traffic for about ten miles traveling at near 80mph and the motorcycle was smooth, handled windblast fine and had plenty of throttle to leap ahead if needed. But that kind of travel is not for me and I was glad to leave the freeway and drift home at more leisurely speeds that allow me more time to react to any sudden chaos.

If I have any lingering questions it would be which bike to choose – the BMW F800 GS or the BMW F650 GS?

I reluctantly returned the motorcycle to Kissell Motorsports.

I swore to myself I’d let the motorcycle show me what it could do on the highway this next trip. Packing 85 horsepower on a 392 pound frame just begs to roar down the road. From the moment I leave the driveway I begin to get in the way and derail any plans the bike might have. Rather than put the F800 GS through paces on the open road I continue to turn onto ever smaller and more obscure pavement.

This BMW F800 GS is fast. Or should I say it would go fast in places where one eye is not on the botanical landscape while the other continually scans for deer, groundhogs and skunks. Not the perfect situation for testing the handling and performance of a motorcycle.

BMW rates the top speed at 125 MPH. Don’t expect to read about me going that fast.

Anywhere. Ever. I’m a chicken. Give me snow and give me ice but I’ll say no thank you to speed. In the most extreme you won’t hear descriptions of lean angles or pegs dragging. I’ll leave that to more experienced riders.

Any hopes of a conventional highway ride dissolve when the pavement turns to gravel. I feel myself drawn (again) to roads disappearing into the woods, away from pavement, away from the hum and drum of the road.

The slightly aggressive street tires are fine this mostly packed mix of fine gravel and limestone. Remembering my mission I twist the throttle to bring the bike to life, race through the woods, and give myself over to the BMW experience. At least until the tunnel of green gets the best of me and forces a stop to make a picture.

Sitting in B&N writing part of this review I struggle mightily to retrieve some technical details to impress and describe the superb German engineering. Generally my eyes simultaneously glaze over and roll back into my head whenever I hear (or read) discussions of valve trains, power curves and other equally esoteric engineering topics but it’s so obvious that this motorcycle is well built. So I feel compelled to say something technical.

The bike has ABS brakes, a feature I wished I had on my Vespa, especially in the winter. How’s that for a thorough technical review…

The Touratech gear Kissell Motorsports added is functionally impressive. The extra lights are probably the best investment a rider could make. If you’re nervous about riding at night these will help. The hand shields in combination with the BMW’s heated grips would be a great cold weather combination. Having ridden thousands of miles in sub-freezing temperatures the combination gets my heartiest endorsement even though they weren’t needed for this summer ride. Anyone buying this motorcycle surely won’t store it for winter will they?

On tight packed gravel the bike performed well and it’s surefooted stability left me with a feeling of confidence that I don’t have with my Vespa. Riding faster than usual often didn’t leave time to negotiate ruts and holes or rise up on the pegs to mediate the jolts and thumps delivered by a ragged road. More aggressive tires would be nice for the looser gravel and dirt I encountered and would be a definite plus for extended riding in that kind of environment.

Coming across a shale pit I turned and raced across the bare, stony ground and onto a small road leading into the woods. After less than a mile the road emerges into the open area of a high-power transmission line. There’s a path following the lines up the mountain. It’s steep, irregular and rocky in places. Riding trails like these was a favorite activity as a kid on a dirt bike. Now, at 56, I pause to consider the wisdom of attempting it with a brand new motorcycle that isn’t mine with tires that are less than ideal. After a discussion in my head with Craig Kissell I’m convinced he would say full speed ahead.

At the top of the second hill I’ve had enough and stop to make a few pictures, let my heart rate return to normal and celebrate the fact that I didn’t drop the bike. One thing is for sure – the BMW F800GS does not lack for power to climb a hill. My respect for the machine continues to grow.

My stomach forces me back to the main road and 20 miles later I’m ready to enjoy a leisurely lunch outside McAlevys Fort, Pennsylvania before heading home.

While I consider this ride a failure in respect to my original objective of trying it out on the highway I was able to enjoy the prowess of the BMW in other ways. In the next (and last) installment of this review I finally manage to shift my riding style long enough to put a couple hundred road miles on the BMW F800 GS.

Stay tuned.

This is the first of three installments on the BMW F800GS.

I’d call it a review but enough time has passed since riding the motorcycle that I’m sure what I’m sharing are feelings and memories transformed by time into heroic feats against impossible circumstance. I have this vague recollection of hurdling through snow and over the Grossglockner Pass. Climbing up under an overpass is almost the same thing isn’t it?

The motorcycle didn’t make it home easily. Like a lot of things in my life I resisted this bike. At least until Craig Kissell, owner of Kissell Motorsports and the local BMW dealer, explained how this was one of his favorite bikes – ever. After offering some strong arguments and a final “what do you have to lose?” I relented and took the keys.

I should explain my reluctance to ride certain motorcycles (you’ve seen no reviews of sport bikes for instance) has little to do with the machines and a lot to do with ideas stuck in my head. To date, each resistant idea related to motorcycles has crumbled through experience.

My aesthetic taste runs towards plain. Aside from my yellow and black riding jacket I find comfort in shades of gray. A bright orange motorcycle with large GS lettering doesn’t fit well for a guy who has a black truck and asked the dealer to reverse the tires so the white lettering wouldn’t show. Standing in the middle of the road and sizing up the bike it just seemed out of step with my riding tastes.

Too much power, too much sound, too much flash.

Sitting on the bike in the parking lot at Kissell Motorsports I had my first meaningful reaction – the BMW F 800 GS is tall. While I can flat foot the bike, barely, I silently gave thanks for those few extra potato chip fueled pounds that allowed the shock absorbers to compress enough to make sitting astride comfortable. Be forewarned that it is not a good idea to come to a stop and casually put your foot down into a pothole.

The instant the engine sprang to life my ideas of power were confirmed. I remembered the first time a sat on a tall quarter horse and the thrill of recognition that comes being connected to something powerful.

The first order of riding business is familiarizing myself with the motorcycle. Particularly brakes, clutch, shifter action, throttle and general handling. Some slow speed turns and maneuvers and enough experimentation to believe I won’t completely muck things up in a panic. Winding through the countryside on the way home offered many opportunities to practice.

Getting on and off a tall motorcycle repeatedly to make pictures can be physically demanding for someone used to the step through set up of a Vespa. Each new motorcycle has me making notes in my journal…. Exercise, stretch, get in shape. So far I have a lot of notes.

The light was starting to fade and I really wanted to ride a bit more before dark. A few errands interrupted that plan but not enough to diminish the thrill of the F800GS. Even parked along a concrete wall it looks like fun.

Getting the bike late in the day meant parking it in the garage after a short ride or riding at night. I chose the latter and departed into a mild evening under clear skies. Riding just after sunset is something I enjoy, especially the slow changing of light. Watching for Bambi is something I can do without though. Stopping at a nearby park to make a picture in the fading light triggered a few fantasies about the proverbial trip into the sunset. You could ride a long way on the BMW F 800 GS.

Craig and his staff made a few modifications to the bike including the addition of a set of Touratech lights up front. A flip of a toggle switch on the handlebars caused the two side mounted lights to illuminate the world. For riding at night in deer country these things allow you to see far to the left and right making any four-legged motion easier to detect.

The BMW F 800 GS is noticeably more powerful than the F 650 GS even though they share the same engine displacement. Reaction to the throttle is direct, positive, and you have the sense that whatever you would want will be there. The riding position is almost perfect for me – upright and comfortable.

A stop under lights in a parking lot for a few pictures.

Pacing around the bike, assessing angles for photos, the lines of the motorcycle become apparent. A beautiful machine, one that will over a few days of riding reveal its functionality as well.

Near midnight I turn towards home and a good night’s sleep before riding the next day.

Rain. Not a lot but enough that I momentarily consider leaving the BMW in the garage. But only momentarily. With a mist falling I headed down the road. While stopped to take a picture I have the chance to try my boots on the wet pavement, a nervous tic I’ve developed as part of a personal weather evaluation system.

The F 800 GS is completely at ease on the narrow, winding secondary roads of central Pennsylvania, especially at the sightseeing speeds at which I often proceed to allow for quick stops for pictures. It’s definitely the kind of machine that makes it easy to experience the landscape without leaving the impression that it’s only happy bombing down the road at breakneck speed. The rain had stopped leaving wet roads and a gray light to make pictures in.

An absolutely comfortable ride, at least at tourist speeds through the bucolic countryside. I know I should be pushing harder but my wandering eye and camera get the best of me and I force the BMW into service as my photo vehicle. Certainly not what its Bavarian designers envisioned. I promise to push the bike hard.

Later.

Across the valley and into Rothrock State Forest. I realize that I am more at risk climbing up the rocky hillside to take a picture than I am on the road. Being a good Boy Scout I check my cell coverage in case I break a leg.

Thirty miles later I’m winding along empty roads like the BMW and I have been friends our whole life. Granted, neither of us is pushing the performance or skill envelope but the union of rider and machine is close to perfect. I find myself wondering which part of the garage I would dedicate to this motorcycle.

And I really grew to love those Touratech lights.

This part of Pennsylvania is traced with small roads, paths and lanes that lead through field and forest, between gaps and watersheds into places that are seldom trafficked by mainstream riders. Many hours curled up with my worn copy of the Pennsylvania Atlas Gazetteer tells me this road is more than a farm lane and will wind over the mountain in the distance.

Riding time passes quickly. Aimless wandering and enjoying the sights maintains a seductive power. Standing by the sign covered garage I realize another day has evaporated. And I’ve not experienced the BMW F 800 GS. I’ve just forced it to conform to my riding habits.

With the motorcycle tucked safely away in the garage and I vow to let the BMW lead the way tomorrow, ride the way it wants to ride. Perhaps then I can produce a few insightful words about this lovely machine.

Stay tuned for part two on the BMW F 800 GS.