Forty years ago, a Twin Cities Chemolite worker had a vision of marital bliss: matching BMW motorcycles for himself and his wife. Go figure that her image of happily-ever-after differed from his. She kept it for a year, then invited him to set it free. Larry Pieper was a fellow Chemolite employee with a better eye for joy on wheels. He snapped up the orphaned 1969 R/60US and made it a permanent family member.

Larry's son, Tim Pieper was 5 when the Teutonic twin joined the household and he can barely remember the pre-Bimmer era. His father fitted saddlebags, trunk and a BMW windscreen and pointed the front wheel wherever whim inspired. He also added a backrest to ensure that whichever of his three young children climbed on for a ride was still there when it ended.

The black 600 went to Sturgis several times. Larry also rode the Flood Run, a charity event that draws hundreds of riders each year in commemoration of a trip bikers made in 1965 to help lay sandbags along the flooding Mississippi.

Tim and his brother Mark each took their license tests on their dad's R60. Tim still remembers the occasion. "It was easy in those days," he says - "go around the block and do a quick stop." There was one more piece, too: Shut down the bike on a hill, re-start it and ride off again. The test stemmed from kick-start days and was a snap with an electric starter, which most other riders had. Tim's German machine lacked this amenity. Luckily, Larry used a good mechanic who always kept the engine running like a wristwatch. The R60 popped off on the first kick and Tim aced the exam.

The initial document the riders got was a learner's permit. As Larry, the dad, learned through official channels, Tim's brother Mark did not always follow the permit's restrictions. Larry was a foreman pipe fitter who spent a lot of time in his office. To keep the day interesting, he used to listen to a police scanner. Once, when he had lent Mark his trusty bike, an officer's report crackled over the airwaves. Some young motorcyclist was passing cars on the shoulder, with a passenger. He was riding a black BMW R60. Funny, Larry thought, I have a bike just like that - with a youthful rider. At home that evening, Mark had the opportunity to share his views of this remarkable coincidence.

When Larry passed away in 1998, his cherished BMW went to Tim. Though the saddlebags and windscreen were early additions, along with an aftermarket two-up saddle, Tim has removed these touring modifications and put on a proper Denfeld solo seat to bring the bike back to more original specs. Larry was particular with his maintenance and repairs, ordering proper BMW parts from a supplier in Washington, D.C. He saved all of the old parts, bolts, washers and springs, as well as the service documentation. They are still with the bike.

Tim has no idea where some of the fasteners go, but he keeps them for their originality - not that that attribute has declined much. After a period of storage while he and his wife were raising their first child, Tim had the family Bimmer tuned up by Blue Cat Motors. One of their mechanics came from the East Coast and had worked on a lot of vintage BMWs. He told Tim the R60US was the most original bike of its era he had seen in many years.

Sure, there are a few scratches, e.g., from the saddlebags, but Tim isn't bothered by them. "Somebody tried to get me to paint it," he recalls, "but I said, `no way!' It's worth more the way it is."

Today, Tim rides the bike on weekends and he's saving it for his own son, Joey, as soon as he's old enough.