Okay so this whole BMW Bigbike adventure started kinda random. Saw this old R80 boxer sitting in a buddy’s garage, covered in dust and spiderwebs, practically forgotten. Looked sad, you know? Like it needed a second chance. My buddy just shrugged and said, “Take it if you want it, been meaning to scrap it.” Free bike? Yeah, alright. Challenge accepted.
First Look – Total Mess
Got it home on a trailer. Wheels wouldn’t even turn properly. Felt like moving a concrete block. Started poking around:
- Wiped off years of grime just to see what was underneath.
- Cracked open the fuel tank cap… oh man, the smell! Like old varnish mixed with regret. Inside? Rusty swamp water, basically.
- Stomped on the kickstarter. Solid as a rock. Engine was properly seized. Great start.
- Fiddled with the electrics. No lights, no horn, no nothing. Wiring looked like a rat’s nest.
Felt way over my head for a hot minute. This thing wasn’t just broke, it was properly dead.
Getting My Hands Dirty
Okay, fine. Baby steps. Needed a workspace first. Cleared out half the shed, swore a lot moving heavy tools around. Got myself a big parts tray ’cause I knew things would get messy.
Started with the obvious:
- Drained the tank sludge. Disgusting job. Used an old coffee can. Pro tip: Don’t smell it. Just don’t.
- Pulled the spark plugs and poured a bunch of Marvel Mystery Oil down the holes. Let it sit, like, for days. Prayed to the rusty engine gods.
- Started tracing wires. Man, BMW wiring from the 80s is… a choice. Found chewed-up bits, melted connectors, the works. Just ripped most of it out for later. Too much hassle.
Tried rocking the bike in gear. Nothing. Let the oil soak longer. Went back a few days later with a big wrench on the crankshaft nut. Leaned into it HARD. Felt something give. A tiny bit of movement! Threw more oil down the holes. Came back next day, wrenched again. Suddenly it spun! Clunky, gritty, but it spun! Small victory dance happened in the shed.
Bringing it Back to Life (Slowly)
Motor unstuck? Big hurdle cleared. Now for the nitty-gritty.
- Stripped the tank completely. Rinsed it with vinegar, then baking soda, felt like a mad scientist cleaning a cauldron. Still spotted with rust inside, but way better.
- Ordered a cheap carb rebuild kit online. Took them apart – so many tiny parts! Jets clogged solid. Soaked ’em in carb cleaner overnight. Scrubbed with tiny brushes. Reassembled with shaky hands.
- Went minimal on electrics. Screw the fancy loom. Needed spark and lights. Hooked up a simple battery box, ran wires direct for essentials. Bare bones style.
- New fluids everywhere – oil, gearbox, forks. Feels good seeing fresh stuff go in.
The Scary Moment
Time for the test. Pushed it outside. Prayed again. No fancy starter motor hooked up yet. Had to kick it. Felt like trying to start a small tractor. Kicked it over half a dozen times, nothing. Adjusted the choke. Gave it another kick. BRAP-BRAP… RRRROOOOOARRRR! It coughed, spat smoke (lots of smoke!), then settled into this clunky, uneven idle. Unmistakable BOXER beat. Cheered like an idiot in my driveway. Neighbors definitely heard that, both the engine and me.
Rough Road Ahead
It moves! Kinda. It sounds… unique? Definitely not smooth. Idles like a washing machine with bricks in it.
This is just Phase One. Now I gotta:
- Actually hook up brakes. Important.
- Ride it down the lane and see if it implodes.
- Figure out what that new rattle is.
- Maybe, just maybe, make it look less like scrap metal.
It runs. That’s the big win today. Got a long way to go before it’s anything remotely “big bike” worthy, but seeing that engine fire up after years of silence? Yeah, that feeling is worth all the busted knuckles and the greasy floors. Not perfect, not fast, but alive again.
