My long standing fascination with the BMW 1150/12GSs is no secret to anyone who knows me. Outside of the sheer expense of obtaining one of the new big GSs, I also have a well documented fear of not being able to work with the big, tall, behemoth if I were to get it into a position that isn’t ‘perfect’. So I carry on with my someday pipedream and enjoy the fantasy of being able to handle the big GS on one foot, in loose gravel, facing downhill on a slope in the rain.
Then my dear friend whose name i will change to… um, let’s see.. Craig… comes along with this: ‘This might be right up your alley…’, ‘F800GS… Just your size..’
Do I need this shit from you, Craig? Do i need to know that the big lug of my misty eyed fantasy has a little brother that is just my size? And i know, i just KNOW it is dying to go home with me. I thought you were my friend but what do you do? You fill my obsessive mind with possibility. Now for the last few days I have been haunted by ‘maybe’ and ‘I think there is room in the garage.’
I’m in hell. I need to sell a kidney.