“I love these things!” I exclaimed to Paul when he wheeled it out of his van. “They are crazy good!”
“I do too,” he replied. “But there’s something missing from this one. See if you can pick what it is.”
I do so like me a challenge, so I indulged him. I walked around it, looking to see what was missing. Tyres and wheels? Check. Seat? Check. Controls? Check … wait.
“Where’s the clutch lever? Did you bust it off during loading?”
Paul gave me one of those looks. It said: “You’d forget to blink if it wasn’t a reflex.”
“Sorry,” I said sheepishly.
Paul is Australia’s best motorcycle transporter. He runs Prestige Motorcycle Transport. He would no more break anything off a bike he was hauling than I would snatch a handbag off a pensioner.
“It’s an auto,” he said.
I furrowed my brow. I’d ridden two of BMW’s ASA (Automatic Shift Assistant) offerings, a GSA and an RT with all the bells and touring whistles. In both cases those bikes gelled remarkably well with their auto iteration – and I kinda thought: Yeah, this auto variant would make a lot of sense for a whole bunch of riders who want these bikes.
Because, as I have explained in the past, BMW’s auto variant is seamless and brilliant. It works exactly as I assume it’s meant to work. Even at walking pace where you’d imagine any faults in the concept would present themselves and you’d be lying under a large lump of German metal while people laughed at you. Off idle, there’s no hunting, no stuttering – and where you’d normally be feathering the clutch, you’re learning new things about throttle control. So, I got the concept and I liked it … but on an R 1300 R?
Now, you could be thinking, as some people still do, that BMW’s Boxer range is … well, somewhat staid. Somewhat conservative and unexciting. And you think this because you remember what the Boxers were like back when strange, wee-smelling grey-beards rode them while the rest of us were losing our shit and our licences on monstrous in-line fours.
If you still think this about BMW’s Boxers, you really haven’t been paying attention. There’s nothing unexciting about these bastards anymore. Go hammer a current R 1300 R through a series of your favourite bends and tell me I’m wrong. I dare you.
They are brilliant everywhere a bike needs to be brilliant. Better than the R 1250 R it replaces? Oh hell, yes. BMW felt a more sportier direction was where the R needed to go, and it applied itself thus. And when BMW Motorrad decides a thing like this, it does not faff about.
There’s 145 horses, (107 kW) and 110 lb-ft (149 Nm) of that torque stuff, and it weighs 527 lb (239 kg) with 4.5 gallons (17 litres) of juice on-board. It’s eco as the F-word, even when you turn into a throttle-twisting fool chasing podiums in your head. They are deceptively and ominously fast in the real world. They are comfortable, handle with precision and aplomb, have the best dash (in terms of readability) on the market, and come with all the electronic sophistication you would expect in 2026. One could say it is diabolically clever. If you’re weird, you can put it in Eco mode and see how far a tank will get you. Mine lived in Dynamic Pro mode. And I was still getting more than 300 out of a tank.
I had the Performance variant. This meant it came with heated seats and grips, tyre pressure monitoring, luggage system prep, hill start control, Brembos, sportier suspension, stupid-sticky Dunlop SportSmart rubber, a pro headlight kit that self-levels as you belt on through the night, bar-end mirrors, and a bunch of bling like the cool new exhaust can in black chrome, flash wheels, and sports seats for you and your pillion. The only model more special than this is the Option 719 variant.
The Performance variant also meant I got the DTC (Dynamic Traction Control) inclusion. Yes, just like on the S1000R and RR superbikes. A first for the Boxer line-up, I believe. BMW informs me I could, if I was so inclined, adjust this so as to leave angry black tyre marks on corner exits. No such thing happened, your Honour. And you may never do this, but it’s cool to know you can.
So, we have established the R 1300 R Performance is a great and good thing and a marked improvement over the R 1250 R it replaces. I have stated the obvious for people looking at serious sports-tourers because pigeon-holing bikes has become a thing for them. The R 1300 R is a great bike, full-stop – and it doesn’t matter what you’re using it for – commuting, touring, scratching, impressing girls. It’s just great. And it no longer looks a bit on the munty side. It’s now all aggression. Broad-shouldered and hunched forward, it looks the business more than any R has ever looked.
But the ASA business? Yes, it’s available as an option on all the R models. And yes, it works. Really well. So let me explain how a bike with no clutch (at least none you can operate with your hand) is still amazing.
If you put the thing in A mode and ride off, you will note it changes gear for you. You will doubt its choices from time to time, but it’s smart and it takes everything into account. Your speed, your lean angle, how much chocolate you ate last night watching Netflix, how much you’re panic-braking, and so on. There were times, hammering through the Ten-Mile when I thought: You need to be in third here! Not fifth! God, not fifth! Get out of fifth, bastard! Fourth? No! THIRD!
But I let it do its thing and everything was fine, though … um, subdued.
No biggie. You can over-ride its brain with thumb switches on the handlebars. You disagree with its gear choice? Change it. Yes, with your thumbs, or yes, with your foot via the gear-lever.
But what happens when you put it in M mode? The world’s best quickshifter happens. Simple. You change gears normally with your foot. Your monkey brain will still scream when it finds there is no clutch-lever for you to abuse when you’re carving bends, but it’s just noise.
It is challenging to wheelie. I am not good at that shit anymore, anyway. Being old and busted in places does not help. And I’m not one to use bikes the industry has lent me as learning platforms for my ego. But jam open the throttle just off standstill and that front-end does get light. If I owned one, I might work it out with practice.
But as I remain a long-term accursed thing, I remain unconvinced ASA on an R 1300 R is something I would choose. I would have no issue with ASA on the RT. Or even the GSA. ASA makes lots of sense if you’re not still a red-eyed hell-fiend and mortal enemy of the Highway Patrol. It simplifies bike operation in a way that doesn’t detract from the actual ride.
If you ride like that.
If you don’t ride like that … well, maybe ASA is not for you. Which is fine. It’s not compulsory.
Me? I still want a clutch. I can acknowledge the cleverness and usability of the ASA, but I am unconvinced the R 1300 R is the “correct” platform for it. BMW has sportified the Hell out of its new R 1300 R range. Thus it seems rather redundant to offer ASA on it – an inclusion which … well, somewhat neuters the whole thing.
I’m thinking I’m the problem here. I can’t fault the whole ASA thing from an objective standpoint. It works and works wonderfully. It’s not, at first glance, just technology for the sake of technology. But I am a warhorse with a lot of years on my hide. I am hard-wired to clutch. My hand was constantly spasming on the R 1300 R, vainly reaching for a lever that was not there. Yes, that would have abated in time. But it would have never stopped completely. Two-and-a-half million kays hauling on clutch-levers just ain’t going away.
The ASA option aside, though, these new R 1300 Rs are a masterclass in real-world motorcycle development. They are quick, legitimately quick, and you’ll find it’s very easy to be quick on them. That is their X-factor.
On the roads we ride, BMW’s R range make perfect sense. They will thrill you without terrorising you like an indifferently ridden, race-crouch S1000RR certainly will. You won’t be any slower through your favourite corners, but you’ll be more comfortable, and hence, more confident.
It’s really a no-brainer.
Source/Specs: BMW Motorrad
