In 1976, a comparison was made between a BMW R 90 S and a Porsche 911 2.7 by Swedish car magazine Teknikens Värld. 35 years later, we revisited the article – with the exact same car and the same leather gear!

Words Eric Lund Photography Peter Gunnars

Is there a logical reason to compare a car and a motorcycle? Hardly, it's a somewhat quirky starting point in all respects. It's like trying to determine whether football or ice hockey is the best ball sport (the answer may still end up being horse polo). Nevertheless, it seems to be a constant temptation for automotive magazine editors to pit two and four-wheelers against each other.

I confess to being guilty of this myself. Since my gasoline-filled heart has two equally large chambers – one for cars and one for motorcycles – over the years, I've contributed to several six-wheeled duels in various motor publications.

I'm not alone in this. The legendary British motoring writer L.J.K. Setright (1931–2005) already compared the brand-new Honda Gold Wing 1000 to the Mercedes-Benz 450 SL in the mid-1970s. I would have loved to be there for that one.

Dag E. Hogsten behind the wheel of a “karmosin-rot” Porsche 911, and Robert Lavér on a silver-orange BMW R 90 S in Teknikens Värld 21/1976. Original photo: PeO Eriksson.

Around the same time, exciting things were happening in Sweden. Classic Bike's editor-in-chief Robert Lavér was then a young reporter at Swedish car magazine Teknikens Värld. The magazine also had a similarly young and equally enthusiastic editor-in-chief named Dag E Hogsten. Both had a taste for high-performance vehicles, racetracks, and advanced technology. I can imagine that the editorial office was buzzing with excitement, filled with young heroes of adventure, both man and machine.

Since Teknikens Värld covered both cars and motorcycles at that time, it made sense to once and for all (or so they might have thought...) determine which vehicle was the most joyful, rewarding, practical, comfortable, fast, safe, and adrenaline-inducing. Of course, all in the name of consumer enlightenment.

So, it happened that the cover of Teknikens Värld #21/1976 featured not only a new Volvo 343 in a typical test situation but also a nail-polish-lilac Porsche and an orange-soda-colored BMW.

"Would the leather suit from 1976 still fit 35 years later? It did! Robert Lavér had maintained his shape, and this certainly applied to his driving skills as well. Photo: Peter Gunnars.

JHY354 began its life as a press and demo car at the importers office in Södertälje. The motorcycle from the original report couldn't be found in 2011, but an identical one was located. Photo: Peter Gunnars.

Quirky or not, the plan was to push these vehicles to the limit on both highways and the Gelleråsbanan in Karlskoga, and the comparison objects were chosen with care. Perhaps the reading would have been even more exotic with a Ferrari 308 in one corner and a Moto Guzzi V7 Sport in the other, but it would hardly have been practical. Then, as now, German products are generally more accessible to both motor journalists and buyers.

So, the choice of vehicles must have been relatively straightforward, especially since there were more commonalities than one might initially think. The BMW R 90 S was the sportiest and most modern road machine to roll off the assembly line in Berlin at the time. With 67 horsepower, it was admittedly outclassed by various Japanese bikes as soon as it was new (debuting in 1973), but as a connoisseur's choice, the German boxer still stood out in the competition.

With its 898 cc twin-cylinder engine and a claimed top speed of 200 km/h, it was a seriously sharp bike by BMW standards. The compact fairing gave the machine a modern appearance, as did the extensive instrumentation and five-speed gearbox. Steering dampers were not common in the 1970s, and the paintwork was exceptionally exclusive, being a pure craftsmanship. No two R 90 S bikes are likely the same, whether the early models had shades from black to silver with gold stripes or the subsequent ones in golden yellow with silver accents.

The Porsche in the article had an equally eye-catching color scheme. The shade was called "karminrot" (carmine red) and was hardly the obvious choice for most sports car buyers. In fact, the car in the pictures is said to be one of the most challenging Porsches to sell in Sweden, but Dagge and Robban probably didn't care much about the exterior color.

There was so much else to be fascinated and impressed by. For example, the car had been equipped with the then brand-new "turbo wing" on the engine lid (the 911 turbo had debuted the year before) and a rubber lip under the front.

“The car in the pictures is probably one of the most challenging-to-sell Porsches ever.”

Perhaps it didn't matter much at the time that they happened to have a relatively underpowered version of the 911 at their disposal. With only 165 horsepower from a 2.7-liter engine, the test car - despite its sporty appearance - was a touring Porsche. The 911 turbo with its 260 horsepower had just been launched, and back in 1973, the world had been turned upside down by the lightweight 911 Carrera RS with 210 horsepower.

The Porsche 911 celebrates its 50th anniversary this year (2013), and in 1976, it had already been on the market for 13 years (although production didn't start until the fall of 1964). Several model variants had come and gone, and in 1974, the first major change had taken place. The 911 had received the massive bumpers to meet American safety requirements, a design that would become a hallmark until 1989. Internationally, this generation of 911 is referred to as "Series G," but in Sweden, it's sometimes called the "accordion Porsche," referring to the small bellows on the bumpers.

JHY354 is a 1976 model. By then, the 911 was already a 13-year-old car model that had been modernized, including the addition of more robust bumpers for the 1974 model year. Photo: Peter Gunnars.

The BMW R 90 S was considered a very sporty motorcycle at its launch, but around the same time, the Japanese unleashed a barrage of four-cylinder machines on the motorcycle market. Photo: Peter Gunnars.

BMW vs. Porsche. A German showdown, almost a derby. The brand drama was somewhat worn out, given all the comparisons made between high-performance vehicles from each manufacturer. But now, it was something different. A total of six wheels. Eight cylinders. 3,585 cubic centimeters. And six seats, three of which were rather uncomfortable.

Moreover, today - here and now - the story takes a new turn. It begins with us rolling out an orange BMW R 90 S from a transport bus that had just arrived from Stockholm to Karlstad. Not the same one as in the Teknikens Värld article – we couldn't find it despite our research – but an identical one.

“BMW versus Porsche. A German showdown, almost a derby.”

The parking lot we find ourselves in belongs to Lasse Jönsson Classic Cars. Lasse was a Porsche dealer for several decades, but after retiring, he devotes himself to his own car collection and takes on external service assignments. Here, you'll find a Porsche 904 GTS, a Mercedes 300 SL (both a gullwing and a roadster), a couple of Porsche 356s (Carrera GT and Speedster), a 959 Sport, and many other high-caliber cars and motorcycles.

But there's one car that doesn't seem to fit in with the noble company: an entirely ordinary, simple 911 from the mid-1970s. However, it's not entirely ordinary because its body is nail-polish-lilac. Yes, here is exactly the same car that Robban and Dagge were driving around with in 1976.

After the car had served as a demo and press vehicle, Lasse Jönsson received a call from the general agent in Södertälje in late 1976: "We have a demo car that needs to be sold. Are you interested? It's red."

Of course, Lasse was interested; his livelihood was buying and selling new and slightly used Porsches, and one winter evening, the car was delivered to Karlstad by transport. So far, nothing out of the ordinary. But when the snow was cleared the next day, Lasse Jönsson realized that the term "red" can be flexible – and that he would have to use his most persuasive sales arguments.

It did indeed take two years for the car to be sold, but in return, the buyer kept it for a full ten years before trading it in with Lasse Jönsson. Afterward, JHY354 was sold to a new owner who also kept it for about a decade. But when the not-so-red Porsche returned for the second time, Lasse realized that there might be a higher dimension to this story. The unwanted son who had gone through two ten-year marriages but then returned to his father's house.

Since then, the car has had its permanent residence in the Jönsson collection, now for nearly 15 years. It's worth noting that Porsches from the 1970s often led hard lives. Many of their peers met their demise along the way. Porsche's 911 model has a reputation for being a spirited machine in terms of handling, and many examples ended up in junkyards after crashes caused by drivers overestimating their driving skills.

1976: Teknikens Värld compares the BMW R 90 S with the Porsche 911 2.7, and PeO Eriksson takes the photos. 2011: Robert Lavér and I reinterpret the report for GranTurismo. Peter Gunnars takes the photos. 2013: I write a new version (the one published here) of the report for GranTurismo's sister publication, Classic Bike. 2018: The French magazine MotoRevue Classic publishes the report in an edited translation.

Another aspect is that "eleven" cars from the late 1970s are still relatively low in value today. On the one hand, it's nice that many people can afford a piece of German sports car history, but on the other hand, there's a risk that not everyone will consider it worth taking care of and repairing their cars lovingly.

Furthermore, 1970s cars were about ten years old when the 1980s "tuning wave" swept in. It was a time when fender flares, widened fenders with gills, pop-up headlights, and component stereo systems were considered accessories that improved a car. The traces of both professional companies and private individuals who went to town with cutting wheels and filler putty are evident on many examples.

When I realize that the car from the article not only still exists but also seems to have avoided almost all the aforementioned pitfalls, an idea comes to mind: a replay of the 1976 article.

So, we find ourselves in the workshop yard in Karlstad, watching Lasse Jönsson move aside a couple of treasures to make way for the car in carmine red. He has charged the battery, and the flat-six engine starts with its characteristic uneven sound.

Let's pause and reflect that in 2011, 35 years had already passed since the original report was written. Photo: Peter Gunnars.

Back in 1976, there were 911 versions with significantly more power than this one, boasting 165 horsepower. However, the 911's distinctive qualities are still abundantly present. Photo: Peter Gunnars.

I've taken the liberty of assuming Dag E Hogsten's role as the one most familiar with cars in the group. I had the pleasure of being Dagge's colleague for many years, but after a long career, I know that he's now enjoying his retirement. Neither the motorcycle nor the journalist is fully genuine, but after more than 35 years, maybe 50% authenticity is still acceptable. Robert Lavér is also present, and if that's not enough, he brought the same leather suit as in the old pictures.

Now comes the decisive, nerve-wracking moment: has Robban maintained his shape, can he still zip up the leather suit, and will the zipper cooperate? All concerns are unfounded. Many of us struggle to fit into pants from five years ago, but Editor Lavér has clearly kept his form in every respect, and his tailor-made protective gear is of excellent quality.

“So, neither the motorcycle nor one of the journalists is entirely authentic.”

I climb into the Porsche's cockpit and immediately feel at home. Full disclosure, I own an old 911 myself. It's a decade newer than the car from the article (a 1986 model), but most of it is the same, with minor adjustments at most. It's worth noting that the Porsche 911 underwent continuous development and change, but the basic shapes of the dashboard and roof remained consistent from 1963 to 1998. After that, a revolution came when the entirely new and water-cooled 911 with the internal code 996 was introduced.

There are traces of previous owners in the article car. Someone replaced the driver's seat with a snug racing seat upholstered in flame-retardant fabric in typical 1980s design. There's also a fantastic stereo console in the roof that should definitely be considered a vintage item – who came up with the idea that a cassette player and equalizer are best placed above passengers' heads?

A Panasonic car stereo added later – on the ceiling! The cassette player boasts the "auto reverse" function, eliminating the need to manually flip the cassette. Top-notch! Photo: Peter Gunnars.

Five gauges in a row are a hallmark of the 911. You may have to stretch your neck to see some of the instruments, but the tachometer is always in focus. Photo: Peter Gunnars.

But the original three-spoke "snow racer" steering wheel is still there, as are the original "cookie cutter" wheels and everything else that easily disappears along the way when owners try to improve their cars.

Standing pedals, a slightly heavy clutch, the windshield upright and comically close to the nose, a gear shifter with long throws by modern standards, and buttons and controls scattered somewhat randomly around the driver's environment – that's how the workspace in a 911 can be described, whether it's a 1963 model or a 1997 model.

We hit the road, and if it weren't for the discourteous motorists around us insisting on modern vehicles, the illusion would be complete. Seeing Robban in his yellow, blue, red, and white leather suit on the R 90 S in front of the 911's headlights along a winding country road creates the feeling of watching a movie. Is this for real?

The 1976 duel was revived in GranTurismo 7/2011. The entire edition can be read on Readly. Original photos by Peter Gunnars, art director Jonathan Darby.

Peter Gunnars often seeks out environments that create contrast when photographing vehicles. Here, the duel was revived once again in Classic Bike 4/2013, art director Ola Österling.

Instead of pinching myself, I downshift from fourth to third and hit the pedal. The acceleration isn't hair-raising. We note that the photographer's modern transport, a diesel-powered Volkswagen Multivan, has more power than the sports car. It shows that progress has been made, and that this wasn't even Porsche's most potent option in 1976.

Nevertheless, there's a unique feeling to pushing a air-cooled 911 to its limits. The car plants itself over the rear wheels (more powerful versions become noticeably light at the front), and the hissing sound from an air-cooled engine is unmistakable.

It's interesting that both the car and the motorcycle happen to have air-cooled flat-six engines. The concept of "boxing" pistons was once found in many motor vehicles, including airplanes, but today, it's embraced by only a few (BMW Motorrad and Porsche, as well as Subaru).

“Based on the fluidity in the performance, it can be concluded that Robert is in perfect harmony with R 90 S.”

Judging by the flow of our ride, Robert Lavér is in perfect harmony with the R 90 S, which isn't surprising. In the late 1970s, he competed in the Superbike class with the R 100 S, the successor to the R 90 S. During that time, he not only learned to master the bike's quirks but also to turn them to his advantage. Riding fast on a shaft-driven motorcycle without the modern Paralever suspension (which reduces the "shaft effect") requires precise riding skills.

It's worth noting that the R 90 S had poor brakes even when it was new. Single-action calipers and stainless steel discs were not a good combination. Placing the brake cylinders under the tank and connecting them to the handlebar via a cable wasn't a bright idea either.

On a late summer day in Värmland in 2011, we embarked on a journey back to 1976. And since then, the report has been revived multiple times in various publications. Photo: Peter Gunnars.

None of this seems to bother Robban, nor does the clunky gearbox or the bike's tendency to wobble at higher speeds. And with nearly 40 years of perspective, it doesn't really matter that the top speed wasn't actually 200 km/h but at most 198 or 196. But at the time, it was a hot topic – so much so that a new owner reportedly tried to cancel the purchase with the then-importer Rindars in Södertälje.

My own experience with BMW's older R models is limited. In my youth, I came close to buying a black, almost new 1990 R 80 (partly as a reaction to my peers' infatuation with the latest racing replicas, but also out of genuine love for the unpretentious and rustic motorcycle ideal). I've also ridden an R 100 R, and that's about it.

“R 90 S is like straddling a cardboard box for flat-screen TVs.”

The first thing that strikes me now is that motorcycle ergonomics have come a long way. On modern bikes, you're enveloped by a sculpted whole where the seat, tank, and fairing more or less enclose the rider. Swinging a leg over the R 90 S is like straddling one of those cardboard boxes that flat-screen TVs come in.

I only ride a few miles on the bike, which we borrowed from a kind individual, and I find that the sensation in every aspect is skeletal compared to the sturdy constructions of today's motorcycles. Yet it's absolutely irresistible.

Robert Lavér was one of Sweden's most renowned motorcycle journalists. Among many accomplishments, he co-founded the magazine Bike in 1980, served as the editor-in-chief of MC-Nytt in the 1990s, and later became the editor-in-chief of Classic Bike. He passed away in 2018 due to cancer. Photo: Peter Gunnars.

Air-cooled cylinders in a boxer formation apply to both the motorcycle and the car. 67 and 165 horsepower, respectively. Photo: Peter Gunnars.

It's about setting aside performance expectations and opening your senses to the vehicle as a cultural object and a source of automotive joy. It's about getting to know the vehicle's quirks and learning to love what initially seems awkward. In that sense, the BMW R 90 S and Porsche 911 are closely related; an old 911 also requires an understanding owner.

Both an old BMW bike and a Porsche also have the advantage of being able to be enjoyed every day. They are quality-built machines that can take a beating, unlike some other vehicles that thrive best in well-tempered garage air (I was about to say museum air...).

But what did Dagge and Robban actually conclude during those spring days in 1976? They sharpened their findings on the track at Gelleråsen.

“Should the garage contain six, twelve, or eighteen wheels?”

Unsurprisingly, the car scored points for its versatility, while the motorcycle eventually won the duel thanks to its driving pleasure and significantly lower price. This, of course, is an aspect that overshadows almost every comparison between a car and a motorcycle. To achieve the same adrenaline rush, a car enthusiast almost invariably needs a multiple of the budget of a motorcyclist.

With nearly 40 years of perspective, both the 911 2.7 and R 90 S have proven to be good investments, although the price range is wide between well-preserved examples and those that have withered. Ultimately, it's not a choice between two and four wheels but a question of whether your garage should contain six, twelve, or eighteen wheels. This is something all of us with two chambers in our car-loving hearts understand. | e11 |