Retrospective review: The 1990 BMW K1 is a rarity that's still fun to ride

Dec 23, 2025

Over the past year, I was fortunate enough to ride more than 25 different motorcycles spanning five decades, all wearing badges from every corner of the world. Some stood out more than others, and while the reasons varied, only one had the lore I had been searching for and the flair to back it up. That motorcycle was a 1990 BMW K1.

BMW unleashed the K1 into the world in 1988. In the years leading up to its release, BMW was actively trying to move beyond the flat-twin boxer engines, affectionately known as airheads, that had defined the brand for decades. Instead, the company was betting on the long-awaited K platform, with three- and four-cylinder liquid-cooled engines. Airhead production carried on, but the company was clearly investing in the future, building and refining the K platform as a new foundation to compete with the Japanese sport bikes while meeting the newly proposed European emissions standards. The K model that most pushed the boundaries was the K1.

red and yellow K1 parked in front of an old wooden temple building — What was once ahead of its time is now vintage. Photo by Stephen Seifridsberger.

With fewer than 7,000 ever built and just over 600 imported to the United States, seeing a K1 on the road is rare for most enthusiasts. The bike debuted with its distinctive, iconic, and divisive full-coverage fairing. The K1 didn't arrive quietly; it made a spectacle of its entrance with daring color schemes such as the Brilliant Red and Yellow or Lapis Blue and Yellow. These were not the only color schemes, but the two that would be seen and sought after the most.

Beneath the bodywork lies a 580-pound sport-touring bike. The liquid-cooled 987 cc engine provided the rider with a five-speed transmission, 74 foot-pounds of torque, and a top speed of 143 mph. With a claimed 100 horsepower at the rider's disposal, it felt like an improvement from the 75 to 90 horsepower on the earlier K bikes. However, it was lacking compared to the Japanese competition that was pushing bikes into the U.S. market with over 100 horsepower. The analog dash and the fairing-mounted switches may look dated today to some, but they are perfectly charming and period-correct.

The K1 lacked the outright speed to best the Japanese competition in spec-sheet wars. But its sophistication and greater comfort made it a gentleman's sport bike, not the street racer some expected it to be.

While some vehicles don't stand the test of time, the K1 ended up being influential beyond its small numbers.

close view of the old style but information-rich gauges on the K1 — Yes, that's nearly 120,000 miles on the odometer of the K1 I got a chance to ride. Photo by Stephen Seifridsberger.

Getting a chance to ride the BMW K1

It was that mix of myth and history that set the stage for my own encounter. After seeing and drooling over the iconic Brilliant Red bikes for years, I finally had a chance to spend the day on a 1990 model that had just over 100,000 well loved miles on it. My trip took me through the city streets of Albany and Troy, New York, to the scenic byways of the Catskill Mountains to meet up with an amazing group of riders who braved a 40-degree overcast fall day to attend the last MotoSocial event in the Hudson Valley for the season.

I spent much of the year riding old BMW airheads, so any chance I get to taste the glassy smoothness of a 1990s K bike is always welcomed. Fully faired machines of this vintage ask you to learn them, how your legs slip past the fairing and how your body tucks in and becomes part of the shape. After a few moments of quiet familiarization, my six-foot frame folded effortlessly behind the fairing and knew I was in for a treat.

close view of the ABS equipment on the K1 — The K1 was the first BMW to have anti-lock brakes. BMW photo.

After fully acquainting myself with the bike on rural farm roads, I hopped on the highway for a quick 20-minute ride along the Hudson River to meet with a group of friends who would lead the way through the foothills and into the elevation. The power delivery on the K1 was smooth and plentiful. Even though it did not have the same torque as my flat twins, the machine knew what to do and when to do it anytime I asked. Acceleration in and out of the twisties kept a smile firmly planted behind a slightly foggy face screen as we made our way through the lower elevations of the Catskills. Heavy on the spec sheet, the K1's mass disappeared while in motion. Whether I was planning my lines or easing off the throttle to breathe in and enjoy the mountain air, the K1 moved beneath me as if I were a centaur. It was my animal half.

close view of the small, locking compartment on the K1's tail section — If sport riders wished for a little more performance from the K1, touring riders still had to add luggage capacity, because you couldn't pack for a week on the road in those small compartments. Photo by Stephen Seifridsberger.

Rarity is part of the K1's magic, so when I pulled up to the meet, the bike drew the eyes of everyone.

"Whoa, what is that Ronald McDonald-looking bike? Is that original? Do you have room for a Big Mac and fries in those integrated compartments?"

My answer was "Typically, yes, but my McFlurry melted and made a mess."

front angle view of a blue 1992 BMW K1 that sold at auction — Despite their rarity, K1 prices are not stratospheric. This 1992 model with just 388 miles on the odometer sold at auction at Iconic Motorbikes earlier this year for $10,000. Other K1s with more (but still relatively low) miles sold for prices near $7,000 or $8,000. Iconic Motorbikes photo.

A relative rarity you can ride

Yes, this bike lives up to its reputation and, in my opinion, should probably be worth twice what they go for and someday will be more sought-after. The K1 took the feeling of the early K100 and refined it into something more meaningful and long-lasting because of its uniqueness, but it also performs well. The K1 might leave you wanting a little more in some categories, such as lighter weight if you lean sport or true storage capacity if you lean touring, but it always satisfies the rider's core desires. And once you get past the looks and the jokes, something deeper reveals itself. The soul-searching, long-way-taking, always-riding-but-often-alone rider should make it a point to commandeer a K1 at least once. Letting go of your TFT screens and the digital world connecting you to everything is more important than ever. When you do this on vintage motorcycles, you can be more in tune with your mind, body, and soul. The K1 has all three of its own and wants to share them with you.

Just as BMW was going through changes in 1988, I recently I went through a professional and personal rebranding. After years of chasing greenbacks, titles, and navigating the toxic corporate world that is American capitalism at its finest, I realized that I had become a rat in a race I no longer wanted to run. I finally had my chance at an exit, and doing something that many of us long for but don't get the chance to do, working with motorcycles — more importantly, BMWs. This could be the reason I feel so connected to these machines; a second chance at life is freeing and inspiring.

Some 35 years after it was built, the K1 remains iconic enough to remember and practical enough to ride.