We bought the bike from Sellersville BMW for $6,000. It was a leftover with an original MSRP of $7,200.
It was a beautiful smoke-red color with handpainted pinstriping in gold. It had a full fairing with a huge windshield which was manually adjustable. There were two adjustable air vents built into the fairing, which could be closed off for the winters. The dash had a volt-meter and a clock. Two detachable saddlebags were standard equipment and the bike weighed 478 pounds dry. The gas tank held 6.3 gallons of fuel good for close to 300 miles. There were two petcocks, each with a reserve setting holding a little more than a gallon. It had great brakes for the time and the alternator put out 280 watts of power, plenty to add extra lights. The headlight was adjustable: You just reached down, grasped the headlight bucket and moved it up or down. The two cylinder heads served as efficient foot warmers and the passenger footpegs could be used on those extra-hot days.
When I got enamored with the Triumph Sprint ST, I sold the RT to our son-in-law Don who happily rode it for a couple of years. When he bought a 1994 BMW K1100LT, a.k.a. "Big Blue", he gave me the RT back.
One bright Thanksgiving day Don, Steven and I went for a motorcycle ride. It was a clear, crisp fall day but it was chilly, so we bundled up. We were well over an hour into our ride and were traveling on Route 10, close to its Northern end, traveling south, Somebody needed to pull over, so we waited in a little clearing. We were ready, so I pulled out. The first curve was a left-hander and I was suddenly made aware of my sidestand being down because the bike wouldn't turn. I tried to break it by putting all my weight on it but it didn't. I ran out of time and I was heading for the guard railing, which was not Armco but strands of steel cable up to about three feet high. The bike and I went down and slid into the cables. I slid under the cables. I quickly jumped to my feet, looked at the bike and heart sank at the sight of mangled mass, once a great-looking motorycle. The boys caught up to me and after taking inventory of body parts, I was okay, for a sore right foot. My beloved Stitch was in need of repair and my pants had some openings on the side from road rash.
We wanted to call Mary to bring Steven's pickup to take the bike home, so I jumped on the back of Don's bike and we headed down to the nearest town. On the way we saw a police car heading the other way. We found a phone in a wide-open fire house and asked Mary to meet us. We then headed back to the site of the accident only to discover that it was crawling with people. There was a police car, a wrecker and quite a few firemen. They couldn't believe I walked away from the wreck. They had been looking for my body over the embankment. The tow truck driver came all the way from Utica and wouldn't take a dime for his trouble. In retrospect, I was very lucky I wasn;t ticketed for something, if not for leaving the site of an accident. When Mary came we told her what happened and this way she didn't have time to worry.