The Autopian staff owns a bunch of cars. Shocking, I know, especially when two of us alone could populate the world’s most horrifying used car dealership. All of our car-buying decisions haven’t always resulted in true love, either. You probably remember Matt’s post about how he regrets buying a new Subaru or how I’ve been burned by three Volkswagen Passat diesel wagons. As it turns out, five of us also currently own a total of eight BMWs and our experiences vary wildly. We’ve decided to rank our cars by how much we regret (or ragret) buying them. Buckle up, because German car ownership isn’t for the faint of heart.
It’s easy to see why a large chunk of the Autopian staff has been enamored by BMW ownership. These cars are advertised as the best driver’s cars on the planet. Why buy a beige Toyota or experience regret with a Subaru when you can own the Ultimate Driving Machine? As a few of us have found out, BMWs make great used purchases years down the road after depreciation has taken its toll. Yet, it also seems like buying a BMW is like rolling a D20 where landing on 20 results in a fairy tale and a landing on 1 means you’ve purchased the smoky, broken spawn of Satan.
This begs a question. Is buying a used BMW worth it? It’s no secret that aging German cars can be temperamental, but taking the chance could result in something beautiful. Amusingly, the answer to this question depends on which Autopian writer you ask. I’ve decided to rank this list from the writers who love their BMWs the most to the ones who are having the most headaches.
No Ragrets: A BMW So Good David Wants More Of Them
I think perhaps the biggest surprise was generated by our rust-loving Jeep man David Tracy buying a BMW i3. David has long respected the engineering of the BMW i3 and despite his love for rotted-out $500 cars, he thinks the BMW i3 is “possibly the greatest small-car of this millennium.”
David detailed an entire gripping saga of how he rented a BMW i3 and fell even deeper in love. Then he bought one of the cheapest running and driving BMW i3s. It had a bad battery, but he utilized one quick trick to get a new battery and now he has quite possibly one of the coolest modern used cars on the planet. He paid just $10,500 for a brilliant technological marvel that’s essentially been as refreshed to new condition as it could be.
I’ve gotten to ride in David’s BMW i3 and I understand why he loves it so much. The interior is out of this world, the acceleration is still surprising, and the range extender is a perfect solution for when you need your EV to go a longer distance than it can on battery alone. I’m with David in that it might be the greatest small car out there and now I want to buy one, too.
Lately, David’s been so stricken by BMW i3 fever that he’s seriously contemplated upgrading to the Holy Grail of BMW i3s. At the same time, he also found an i3 that’s even cheaper than the one he’s driving now. Yes, there’s a non-zero chance that our Michigan rust man might become a BMW collector one day. When asked for comment, David said:
I’m head over heels for my i3. I regret not having bought that i3S a few weeks back even though it’s $26 grand. It’s as close to “the perfect car” as I’ve ever known.
David doesn’t regret buying a BMW; he regrets not buying another BMW. Out of everyone on the Autopian staff, David seems to be the one the most in love with BMW at the moment.
No Ragrets: Matt Loves A $3k BMW More Than A New Subaru
One step down from David, or perhaps even a tie with David, is Matt Hardigree’s current BMW E39 ownership. His love story started with a post titled “I Spent $3,000 On A BMW With 234,000 Miles And It’s The Best Car I’ve Ever Purchased” and it reads as Matt falling totally head over heels for a high mileage silver sedan.
The car in question is a 2003 BMW 530i, one of BMW’s iconic E39s, which is BMW-speak for a fourth-generation 5 Series. It also comes from the time when the alphanumerics on the back of a German car meant something. His sedan comes with a 3.0-liter M54 straight-six making 225 horsepower and 214 lb-ft of torque. Matt’s car also has a five-speed manual. He comments:
I’m approaching 236,000 miles and, frankly, I have not done enough to it. I’ve mostly just driven it when I actually have a long list of things to do:
– Find the small oil leak
– Check to see if I need a new cat or if I need to just replace a few sensors
– Rear brakes are running low
– Tires are getting as smooth as a slicktop E46
– Struts or rear bushings or something is causing a little float at high speedsIt’s not a perfect car, but it’s probably the best car I’ve ever owned. It’s not fast but it’s exactly the right speed for the car and it looks great. Cammisa, another E39 appreciator, called my “gorgeous” and said the 530i is “perfect” so I’ll take it. He has not seen it in person. It needs a lot of detailing and love.
Clive, which is what we call him, did throw up an oil light and a STOP OIL PRESSURE warning, but it turns out that all I had to do was call my mechanic buddy and remove the oil pressure sensor, put it back in, add a half quart of oil and… it’s fine? I’m 14 months into ownership and the car has been easier than I thought. It makes me happy. I want to get it to 300k miles and give it to my daughter. Also… it was only $3k.
So, I think Matt is right up there with David in loving BMWs. To put this story another way, Matt regrets buying a new Subaru, but a $3,000 BMW is probably the best car he’s ever owned. That’s how good his E39 is. As an amusing aside, the article about Matt purchasing an E39 currently has a perfect 39 comments.
No Ragrets: My Teal BMW Motorcycle Is Perfection
The only motorcycle on this list is only just the first of perhaps many BMW motorcycles I will own in my life. I’ve been interested in BMW motorcycles for years, but have largely owned a couple of dozen Japanese motorcycles from the 1970s and 1980s. My desire to own a two-wheeled BMW was given a dose of nitrous when I rode a BMW R 18 and the BMW R 18 Transcontinental in 2021. I suddenly saw what so many motorcyclists have loved for decades about BMW Motorrad.
In 2023, I finally bought my first BMW motorcycle, and it was a 1977 BMW R60/7. Sure, the R60/7 was the runt of the litter, but my gosh does mine look so beautiful in its teal paint. Its original owner loved teal so much he had every vehicle he owned painted in teal with metal flake, including the bike and a pickup truck.
When new, my BMW made just 40 ponies and 35.4 lb-ft torque from its 599cc air-cooled boxer. I don’t even want to guess how many horses are left in the stable, but it still has enough power to exceed the speeds of traffic on an interstate.
Since buying this old Beemer, I’ve been occasionally taking it for scenic rides during the summer. Nothing has broken since my purchase of this bike, but that’s not surprising. BMW airheads have little that could go wrong and you can basically fix broken parts with a hammer and zip ties. The odometer doesn’t work, so I have no idea how many miles I’ve put on it. But I can say it hasn’t been my primary motorcycle. I ride it when I want to take a country road ride through time. This motorcycle is easily one of my favorites in my fleet, second maybe only to my Buell Lightning.
It’s Fine, For Now: My BMW Wagon Is One Of The Best Cars I’ve Owned
Earlier in 2023, I bought an arguably life-changing car from The Bishop. If you’ve read my work for long enough, you know that I like buying terrible $500 clunkers before taking the doors off of them. I also have an obsession with broken Piëch-era Volkswagens. My tolerance for bad cars is really high and it shows in the vehicles I tend to buy.
Then, in early 2023, The Bishop offered to sell me his 2007 BMW 530xi. Sure, it was a base model wagon with an automatic transmission, but this $3,000 car changed something in me. It wasn’t the power, because while my car’s 3.0-liter straight six does make a respectable 255 HP and 220 lb-ft torque, that’s not going to change your life.
Instead, the whole experience of my E61 has essentially rewired my brain. This is a car that makes me feel like I’m sitting on a throne and commanding a bank vault with wheels. The E61 is quiet, soft, and handles the road like it owns the place. The surround sound system is dreamy, the glass roof dazzles, and the car is still more than sporty enough to put a smile as wide as the Grand Canyon on my face.
But, I think most importantly, I have found the E61 to be a great place to kick back. This is a rolling sanctuary compared to my usual cars.
Thankfully, the E61 hasn’t broken more since I picked it up from the Bishop. However, the car has done mostly local trips, so I haven’t put more than a couple of thousand miles on its odometer. The car currently has four issues. The navigation system doesn’t work, the car’s night vision doesn’t work, there’s a tiny rust spot on the trunk, and there’s a check engine light for an EVAP problem. I can pay someone to fix the rust and the EVAP problem is intermittent. I’m not in a rush to fix it. I’m never going to use the old navigation system and I might fix the night vision just to see what it’s like.
Even with those little issues, it’s easily one of the best cars I’ve ever purchased. I rank it near the top next to my Saturn Sky Red Line and my Smarts. In fact, the BMW is so nice that it has changed my standards for car interiors. I recently hopped into my Holy Grail Volkswagen Passat diesel wagon and found myself disappointed.
Mild Discontent: Thomas Hundal’s BMW Is Worn, But Still Lovely
Recently, Thomas detailed all of the issues with his 2006 BMW 325i. This one’s an E90, or the chassis code for the fifth generation of the BMW 3 Series. Thomas has found an alarming amount of rust in various places on the car, it vibrates while braking, and the steering wheel isn’t even close to being on center when the car is driving straight. There’s more as the car now exhibits a lot of slop in its shifter, it might have bad injectors, and there’s even more rust under the car.
Thomas fears his beloved BMW is now closer to being a junker. Still, he loves it dearly. Thomas sent me this comment:
Engine: N52B30 three-liter inline-six.
Drivetrain: Six-speed manual, rear-wheel-drive.
Mileage: 287,000 km.
Repairs: Some, but nothing particularly unusual for a car of this age.“In this smoking chaos, our shoulder blades kissed. I found you.” – Guante
Why is it that when things get weird, a car always comes along to take my mind off things? While occasionally they’re dalliances, every so often, they complement me like they’re opposite the color wheel. It was March of 2020. I’d just moved to a new home, finished post-grad, and was about to start a co-op placement at a public relations agency when the world shut down. An incredibly contagious lethal virus was sweeping the globe, and we didn’t know exactly what that meant. While some people panic-bought toilet paper, I had my sights on something bigger — my first BMW. The first car I drove on the street was a BMW, and after several years with an Infiniti G35, I was ready for the archetype. By pure coincidence, the exact car I was looking for found me. It was one of my must-have colors, it was a manual rear-wheel-drive car with the sport pack, it had the Logic7 surround sound system, and the xenons, and no iDrive. Sure, it had a few cosmetic imperfections, but on a bargain-basement budget, It was perfect.
In the four years since, I’ve used it to traverse the province, get my kicks in a controlled environment, see family members and friends at parties and weddings and funerals, discover the city, dance beneath the stars, and spark up dozens of friendships. Sure, it’s required some typical older car work, but you know what? Its shine hasn’t worn off. I haven’t gotten bored of it. In fact, I love it even more now than I did when I bought it.
Through thick and thin, first dates and breakups, hirings, promotions, and calling it off, my trusty German steed has been there, and never once truly broken down. Even on the exceptionally rare occasion something went wrong, it would let me know early and let me get to where I need to be to complete repairs. Its steering still telegraphs stretch marks in the pavement through my fingertips, directly into my nervous system. Its three-liter inline-six still rips silk to 7,000 rpm, its seats still hug me like a beloved old sweater through autumnal breeze, its xenon headlights’ steely beams still faithfully guide me home. It’s an old dog, but it doesn’t want to lay down and wait out the last of its days. It wants to be out there, playing fetch, stretching its legs, reveling in sunlight under a clear blue sky. It belongs to me as much as I belong to it, which is why I’m keeping it for as long as I bloody can. This isn’t admiration of capability, it’s sharing a cup of tea with someone you’ve known and adored through everything. I still find myself looking back at it every time I park, thinking “God, how lucky am I to own a car like this?” And if that doesn’t make any sense, let me put it to you this way: Even with an incredibly well-kept Porsche in the garage, there are still days every week on which I’d rather take the BMW.
Now that the love stories are out of the way, now it’s time to witness some misfortune.
Bring More Wallets: My BMW X5 Wants More Money
At the end of 2022, I bought a rare 2003 BMW X5 3.0i with a five-speed manual transmission. If you didn’t know these SUVs existed, well now you do. It’s believed that BMW sold just 4,446 X5s in America with manual transmissions and I believe it, too.
When I bought the SUV, I was blown away by how well its previous owners preserved its interior and while the body had some minor surface rust, it also survived about 20 years on this planet in good shape. There were no warning lights and everything worked, including the window regulators and door handles that are notorious for breaking in these SUVs. That engine purred like a well-tuned kitten. I separated with $5,000 and drove home happy.
This SUV was great for all of a day. The 164,000-mile SUV pulled strong and felt solid, right until the clutch started slipping on my first day of ownership. I tell you what, finding someone to fix that clutch was a nightmare. Every local mechanic I asked about a BMW X5 that needed a new clutch thought I was talking about an automatic transmission. When I said that BMW X5s did come with manuals, they told me I should check again. Well, the stick poking out of my center console says it’s a manual. I did get other quotes for the clutch, some of which got as high as $4,000.
To be clear, this BMW isn’t the only vehicle I’ve had this problem with. Nobody in my area wants to work on my Smarts or my wife’s Scion iQ. We’re only two hours outside of Chicago, but I guess we’re in a desert of mechanics willing to work on weird cars.
Some readers thought that the slipping was from the clutch getting glazed, and believed that if I kept driving, it would go away. So, I kept driving the X5, never taking it too far from home because of the obvious. The issue has gotten worse, so something is wrong. I parked the X5 maybe 8 or so months ago to make sure it had enough grab left to make it to a mechanic under its own power. Sadly, I am no longer allowed to do big wrenching jobs at home. Thankfully, I found someone willing to work on it, so my X5’s fortunes should change.
I don’t regret buying this X5, but I wouldn’t have paid $5k if I knew the clutch was going to go on the day I bought it.
Anguish: My BMW E39 Is Rotting And Smokes Like A Diesel
I think this one is the saddest story of the bunch. At the end of 2022, The Bishop sold me his stately 2001 BMW 525iT for just $1,500. When I bought the wagon, I was well aware that it had some rust issues. What I was not aware of was the trouble my wife and I were getting into.
At first, it was a honeymoon. BMW head Bernd Pischetsrieder called the E39 M5 “the Ultimate Businessman’s Express.” Yet, BMW made sure the base model was still a serene experience. Matt talks a big game about not buying a base model E39, but BMWs were so great in the early 2000s that even the base models were just sublime.
What I really love about the E39 is that it seems to bridge the gap between the more primitive cars of the past and the tech-heavy cars of today. It has modern fuel injection and just enough computers and electronics to be a comfortable, good daily driver. However, it’s not so tech-laden that you feel you need a master’s in computer science just to fix it.
I gave my wife, Sheryl, the E39 as a present. She then drove the car about 30,000 miles in a single year. Then we discovered some nightmares.
The first was the rust. The car had some rocker and tailgate rust when I bought it from The Bishop. I didn’t bother inspecting the rust at the time because both of us knew of body shops that did cheap rust repair, including a shop run by an old-school bodyman who replaced whole rockers for just $1,500. Unfortunately, insurance repairs have become such a lucrative business that neither of the shops Bishop and I had in mind deal with rust anymore.
Sheryl and I called around, hitting up every shop we could find in a 50-mile, 100-mile, and then a 250-mile radius. The vast majority of those shops told us that they used to do rust repairs, but don’t anymore because they’re just inundated with insurance work. The few shops that did give us quotes shot out prices worth more than the repaired value of the car. In other words, I could buy a more powerful rust-free 530iT from California for less than the cost to repair this one.
We thought we saw light at the end of the tunnel when we found another old-school bodyman and he said he would do the project. Then, his shop closed down a week before we showed up.
Normally, I’d just say send it and ignore the rust until it becomes a problem. Unfortunately, it became a problem for Sheryl when she blew a tire 6 hours from home. All four rockers had gotten so bad that the jacking points were crumbling. The rust is well-beyond the outside of the rockers now and the price to fix that stuff continues to climb.
We decided to do the Vice Grip Garage way of doing things and just ignored the rust, but then the car found another exciting way to break. As of right now, the BMW is consuming a quart of oil every 50 miles. That’s not an exaggeration. I measured the oil burn and it’s disappearing at an alarming rate. I’ve confirmed that it’s not dumping oil into the coolant and it’s not leaking the oil out anywhere. The car really is just burning oil like it’s a two-stroke engine. The issue has gotten so bad that two spark plugs have been fouled, so the car runs like crap, too. Of course, crazy oil burn is not good, and we recently discovered that the catalytic converters are shot, too.
This has forced Sheryl into a difficult situation. It’ll be an estimated $5,000 to $7,500 to fix the rust. Then we have this engine issue that we have to fix before the car can pass its emissions test, which was due in November. So the car isn’t even legal to drive right now. I’ve been working with a BMW specialist on diagnosing the oil burn. We’ve come to the conclusion that it’s either the crankcase ventilation valve or something more sinister. So, the oil issue could be a relatively cheap fix.
Little by little, Sheryl has realized that while she loves this car, repairing it is not a logical choice. We could buy a rust-free example from a southern state and literally save thousands. So, she’s considering putting it up for sale.
Sheryl says she has a lot of regrets. She doesn’t regret buying it, because I did that, but she regrets not knowing how bad the rust was before she let it get too far. She regrets putting so much of her heart into a car she might end up saying goodbye to. Seeing this car go away would be like seeing a pet die, but she can’t justify spending what could be an estimated $10,000 on a car we spent $1,500 on.
Screw This Car: Lewin Day Doesn’t Even Want A German Sedan Anymore
That leaves us with Lewin, and his story is almost a tragic comedy. On paper, Lewin might have the coolest sedan of the bunch. His is a 2008 BMW 320D. Oh yeah, it’s a diesel, baby! Normally, “diesel” makes people think of fuel economy and reliability, but Lewin’s has been anything but reliable:
167 horsepower, 250 foot pounds of torque from the N47 2.0-liter turbodiesel.
It’s a great daily when it’s running right. Smooth as silk, with good fuel economy. The excellent handling of the E90 platform is a sweet bonus, and everybody loves rear-wheel-drive.
Forever let me down, however. I bought it to replace my Mercedes, but I had to hang on to my other car as the transmission was playing funny games for a while.
By the time I got the Beemer whipped into shape, my Mercedes broke, so after a year of ownership I’m still stuck with two German sedans. At this point I’m not sure I want one.
If it was a manual, it’d probably be a keeper. However, the ZF auto has just poor enough a reputation that I won’t hang on to this one for much longer.
Lewin is underselling how much his BMW breaks. His BMW has broken so much that he’s written a string of posts about it. Here, just read these snippets. The car broke right after Lewin paid $3,700 for it:
It was a day later that I first reckoned with its issues. A barely-perceptible RPM flicker at cruise. I Googled and Googled and Google led me astray. I spent the next few months changing transmission fluids and filters and seals until eventually I found that a dose of Lubeguard’s Instant Shudder Fixx solved the problem for less than $30.
Of course, that was after I’d been to hell and back. Using a third-party transmission fluid that was supposed to be compatible with ZF Lifeguard 6 led to hard shifts and transmission warning messages. Getting the right fluid in has largely solved the transmission problems, though it still jams in first or second sometimes under a heavy right foot, with the engine soaring to the rev limiter until it eventually grabs the next gear.
So, Lewin figured out that the RPM flicker was a fuel quantity control valve issue and he went through hell to fix it. Then the car still didn’t work right after:
It’s still not perfect; the transmission is still hanging in gear often enough that I don’t feel confident to drive the car hard. I’d hoped maybe fixing the fuel delivery issue would solve the transmission tripping over itself entirely but it’s not quite so. I’m tempted to try another fluid change to get the last of the supposedly “wrong” fluid out, but I know I’ll be mad if that doesn’t fix it.
Then Lewin’s crank pulley blew up. He fixed it, but concluded his article with:
Okay, I’m getting back to anger now. Fundamentally, some of the fault is mine. I’m supposed to know better. I bought a cheap used BMW, even after hearing all the horror stories. I wanted to believe it wouldn’t happen to me, but it did.
That gorgeous steering feel, the supple handling that BMW was known for? Just ask a friend to give you a drive. Don’t invite this storm into your own home. Learn from me, and be stronger for it.
You know it’s bad when poor Lewin says he’s not even sure he wants a German sedan at all, let alone a BMW.
So there you have it. Five of us own eight BMWs and they range from brilliant to total nightmares. You might call us masochists, too, because with the exception of Lewin, who would probably be pleased by seeing his BMW experience a fiery death, most of us would buy another BMW. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
It would appear that BMWs deliver some of the highest highs and the lowest lows in the Autopian staff. We love them, we hate them, and we wish the new ones didn’t have grilles large enough to place your butt cheeks into. One thing seems to be for sure, and if it’s you buy a BMW, you’re going to love every second of it until it breaks.
I’ve had several BMWs. First, let me mention the motorrads; I’ve owned three, one of which was an R60/7. It was a rock-stable bike; not much power, but it would run all day with no complaints.
On the car side, I owned a 2004 E46 330i ZHP, which I bought new and had no trouble with.
I also had a 1999 E39 528iT bought used that looked a lot like Mercedes’ one in the picture, except it was a sport package with the basketweave wheels. It had a lot of deferred maintenance, so I had to replace all the front bushings, have the wheels retrued, and install new filters, fluids, etc. My only problem was that the driver’s door would not latch in the winter weather if the car were cold. I’d either have to wait for the car to warm or use a bungee cord to hold it closed until it would latch. Sadly, once I had it all sorted, it was totaled by a distracted driver.
I’m going to be “that guy”. “Beemer” was used once correctly for the motorcycle. Otherwise a BMW car is a “Bimmer”. Check the BMW web site for confirmation.
I’ve had 5 BMWs since 2011, including a G650GS Sertao bike. Still have 2, a ’15 X1 that my daughter drives and my weekender ’14 435i 6MT coupe. None have or are unusually troublesome, in fact I’ve had the 435i for 7 years and nothing other than schedules maintenance (knock on wood). Daughter had the typical plastic radiator issue with her X1 but that’s been it so far.
As someone currently looking to get either a 128i or an E91 328, I’m reading this with great trepidation and interest. And I’m so sorry about your wife’s E39–I didn’t realize rust repair was so rare these days.
The unwillingness to do rust repairs was starting to be a big issue when I lived in the upper Midwest 15 years ago. It was a combination of factors, including stuff like long-time body shops closing up due to shortage of staff as well as big corporate chains buying up local body shops, but probably the biggest one was that the first big snowfall of the season. That first big snowfall would typically lead to a few hundred accidents, which would book out every body shop in the area for at least six months, almost all being paid for by insurance companies. The rest of the winter snowstorms would fill up the remaining six months. Most of that work was swapping and painting body panel, which pays well and doesn’t require a large amount of skill or labor like rust repair does. Add to that the number of body shops that are partnered or in some way affiliated with dealerships, and it becomes pretty easy to understand why they would be willing to turn away rust repair work since they have a steady stream of work coming from insurance claims that require “OEM repairs”. It certainly makes me glad I don’t live in the rust belt anymore.
In 1974/75 we enjoyed a twelve month honeymoon in Europe, we bought a used 2002 and drove. Over 30,000 miles across France, Belgium, Holland, Italy, Spain, Bulgaria and Yugoslavia. The car was fabulous, only received dealer maintenance and finally died in a parking lot collision in Paris. That trip is the reason we are still together.
I am confused. How did you buy a 2002 vehicle in 1974? That is, if you are allowed to tell the real story.
I reckon they’re referring to BMW 2002 (A model from back then)
https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcStvCSBJje7BczFXWllKlkVI8C92rtVxio9TA&s
1972 BMW 2002 best car they ever made
I’m confused. Mercedes: did you buy two BMW wagons off the bishop?
So funny how the “tell us your regrets” was more like a singing praises to their classic BMWs. I completely understand. My 1998 Z3 Roadster is amazing and has been nearly trouble free for the 20+ years I have owned it. The only issue was with the GM sourced auto transmission (yeah, tell me about it- my ex couldn’t drive stick no matter what, so I had to compromise.)
My 2012 X5 Diesel has been great- the turbo blew up but it was under warranty, so no foul for us there. Much like David, my 2015 i3 is an awesome car too. It’s pretty much a twin of the one David has. We use that car more than any other car. I also have a BMX Motorcycle- a fairly rare 2007 G650 Xcountry. Great bike, lots of fun.
My first car ever was a 1983 E21 320i. I loved it and my brother-in-law drove it into the ground. I also had an Austrian built 2005 X3 which was great, but was eventually replaced by the i3.
As for the latest BMWs I’m just not that interested. The styling has gotten too bizarre. Too many lines. Too many scoops. Too much grille. I’m looking at Volvos as our ‘other’ car. Very strange, as a BMW fan for my entire driving career.
“I don’t regret buying this X5, but I wouldn’t have paid $5k if I knew the clutch was going to go on the day I bought it.”
I think it was already gone.
Regrets?
Well, I’m $8k into installing a new used motor into my M Roadster after I spun the oil pump nut off the 189k original engine. I did wire the oil pump nut on the ‘new’ motor, have replaced all coolant hoses, new high-volume water pump, the CCV hose and breather. New clutch & guibo. Mechanical fan delete, etc. Fancy aftermarket mufflers because they were a cheap package deal with the motor…
While I now have almost twice the value of the car in it, the ‘new’ motor is damn clean inside and I’ve rather enjoyed have a reason to wrench again. Today I have to install a new valve cover gasket and the motor mounts, then I’ll be ready to drop the motor in. I hope to take it to the Shoe Syndikat meetup early next month to meet the lady with 8 Clown Shoes featured in an article here. (I’ve been wearing my Give It To Me Straight hoodie whilst wrenching)
I knew it was likely a money-pit going in, so I’m not complaining. When it’s cold, the old summer tires allow me to unleash my inner 17yo and hoon to my heart’s content. When it’s warm out, those tires grab remote mountain roads while the wind ruffles what’s left of my hair with the top down. I told people I didn’t have a secretary to run off with, so the Roadster was my (late) mid-life crisis. Given my track record in dating, this car is still cheaper than a ruinous relationship 😉
Nothing unusual here…..typical German over-engineered crap with enough rust to make a 77 Volare’ blush. The usual meme applies for sure….”There is nothing more expensive than a used Mercedes”.
I miss my E90 so much. It was a clean 2009 328i with the sport package. Nothing at all wrong with it, everything worked. Interior was perfect black leather. My wife hated it because it didn’t have a backup camera.
We now have a KIA K5, it’s fine I guess, but lacks any kind of soul. I won’t give it a second thought when the time comes to get rid of it.
What do you mean “no soul?” I think those wavy amber DRLs give it tons of soul! /s
I.. but…
I am sorry for your loss. Maybe this is precisely why I’m not married yet, but that very much would have been her problem, not mine.
An older BMW is like adopting an older pet.
One has to go into it knowing that it’s going to be a limited-time affair and coping with the inevitable issues along the way. It can be a great and hugely rewarding experience. It can also be frustrating, expensive, and suffer premature mortality.
Things can last a long time. A lot longer than one initially expected. Our now 19-year old cat was adopted by us at 8 years old. He was my first cat, and a hugely rewarding experience for a previously non-cat person.
But it was always going to be a limited-time affair, even he did surprise us with his longevity. Knew that going in. The clock was ticking. We enjoyed more time than we ever expected and I’m grateful for that. But it’s going to end one day. It has to.
BMWs are the same way. One can buy an older, cheaper one. Enjoy it for its moment. Unlike one’s pet, it can be put aside for casual driving if one has the luxury of being able to afford that. As a daily driver, they’re a limited time affair, especially in the salt belt.
Enjoy it while one can. Savour the silky windup of the engine. The Germanic handling. But know it’s a limited-time thing. Make every mile a smile.
Like petting a purring cat in one’s lap.
(No regrets… so far) We just bought a fully loaded 2021 M235 (F44) with 27k (instead of something like a new Sonata/Accord for the same money). Pretty much all the journalists dislike this car because now it’s a FWD based platform but I think they’re insane; they must hate hot Minis too… We absolutely love this tiny luxury rocket. I only drive about 4-5k miles per year so hopefully the BMW love affair is long lived.
My Z4 has been a blast for over 100000km. I’ve had to redo the cooling system because BMW, but otherwise it’s been quite reliable.
Mechanical sympathy seems to be working with my 20 years old convertible.
I’m on my 2nd BMW, but I’ve been saddled with a couple of the BMW MINIs by my daughter.
Her MINIs were total basket cases. Despite low milage, everything plastic in the engine bay just deteriorated to the point of failure. We replaced the 2nd one with a Honda Civic.
I’ve had a manual X5, and other than rust being an issue since it came from the north it was a great car. I only parted with it after it got hit by a Texas hailstorm and the insurance company gave me enough cash to make totaling it worthwhile. I used the payout on it to pick up an E91 328xi wagon.
Other than being an automatic I’ve had no issues with the wagon so far. As you’ve described it’s kind of like driving a mobile vault, it’s quiet and solid and the glass roof is great when I have it open.
Oil pan gaskets on the X drive models are not pleasant to replace. Budget time and/or money for that job.
Only owned one which is sitting in the driveway under a cover, a 2007 N52 X3. Under a cover because despite multiple attempts, the sunnroof leaks. Loved it, hated it, can’t wait to get rid of it. But to echo what others have said, when it was good, it was real good. Barely has a squeak, unlike the 2015 Fusion. Really comfy seats.
BMW moto and cars are two very different things. Both great in their own ways but the bikes have long been sturdier, though the newer ones are tech heavy repair nightmares now like the cars. I’ve been tempted by the BMW bug many times but I have heard all the stories and seen too many of the repair bills to ever give in.
I had an ’82 R100 CS for some years. I put about 40k miles on it, supported myself as a mobile mechanic for a couple of years before I got a Peugeot wagon (threw tools in the nice big saddle bag). Three problems:
1) That thing devoured batteries, especially once I moved to Seattle.
2) The exhaust valve seats were a bit soft (designed for leaded gas?), and the valves were slowly receding into the head and I had to loosen them every 1000 miles or so (eventually got seats and stems replaced by CC products in San Jose).
3) Intermittent ignition fail. The bike would just randomly cut out, then when you try to diagnose, it starts working again. I hate when that happens. I finally (after like two years of suffering with this) narrowed it down to the sender that sits on the front of the cam (little tin can looking thing). Ross (I think that was his name, this was in the early 90’s) at Polk Cycles had one in his junk pile and sold it to me for $20.
Then there was the problem that moving to Seattle kind of ruined motorcycles for me. Too damn wet there.
Polk was an old school BMW dealer (imagine Benny Hill, but dressed in a grey coverall and with one wandering eye), the man had a brand new ‘78 R100 RS in his showroom that someone bought in ‘78 and never picked up. Ross inherited the business from his dad, had lots of /2’s sitting around as well, and some killer old British racing bikes. In the end he had to go out of business because some bougie glass blower bought the building out from under him for a studio.
A follow-up to my comment – Holy Grail idea – do a write-up on the BMW K1. They only made 7000 of them total with less than 700 making their way to the US. They featured some really cool engineering and was the most aerodynamic motorcycle for a long time, too!
Very cool R60. It’s an interesting mash-up of styles with the S seat, the windjammer fairing and of course the teal paint. Airheads are the best!! My dad started out with an older R60 with a sidecar waaaay back when and toured the whole US and Canada on his R100 in the 70s. More recently, he rode all the way up to Prudhoe Bay in Alaska and back to MO all by himself on his ‘07 R1200GS. I had a K1300GT for a bit and then bought my dad’s 1980 R100. Awesome bikes! I’d suggest you try out an early K bike as well. The K75 and K100 are pretty cheap, super smooth and reliable.
ALSO – if you ever want to get that odometer fixed, send it to Rick at Overseas speedometer in TX. He does a great job. I just got both my Speedo and odometer fixed for under $300.
Thanks for mentioning the odo repair. I was gonna say something about it, but I forgot.
Anyway, the problem is there is a small gear that is pressed onto the shaft that all the digit dials run on. That press is not very tight & lots of them slip. When this happens the dials stop turning – odo inop.
There are a couple step by step DIY procedures available on the interweb. Google it. It’s kinda tedious to fix, but it’s not hard. You just diassemble the cluster down to the point you can access that gear, then you clean it up & apply a tiny drop of JB Weld & put it all back together. Presto – odo works now.
I’ve had both an R/80 and a K100RT.
VERY different style of bikes; the R/80 was about 20 years old when I hot it, but still very reliable. A classic example of driving a slow bike fast.
On the other hand, the K100 was dull until you got over 130km/80mph. Then it handled and felt brilliant.
97 540i6 that I have gone on about here before. When it was right, it was fan-freaking-tastic. But it was so often not right.
I think an E90 330i could be a “sweet spot” car. Quick enough without the difficulties of the turbo.
That said, I think if I bought another Bimmer my wife might want to “have a talk about our relationship.” And I like her more than BMWs.
Does a Mini Cooper count?
I bought the notorious R56 for my wife as a toy. She loved that car. She’d pull up to built muscle cars and challenge them to race. They were so surprised by her she’d win half the time.
She named it Marie, ‘cuz she named all her cars.
It was the perfect car for her: impractical, unreliable, and the prettiest thing on the road.
She passed on me a while back.
And now that means I’m emotionally invested in objectively horrible car.
Pistons hit valves and it was ugly.
Machined the head. New valves. New turbo. New timing chain, cams, seals, and catalytic.
Except for the machine work, I did all the work myself, on a car that does not like amateur mechanics.
Probably three grand in parts and machine shop. At lest 10 grand worth of my time.
And I now have the best four thousand dollar car in the state for sure.
But at least I could fix the car.
When you feel that turbo kick in and you’re rocketing along three inches off the ground in a go cart doing 80 on back roads it’s the best car ever.
I know it couldn’t be, but sometimes I swear it still smells a little like her inside.
Sorry for your loss. I’ve held on to things from loved ones too, whether rational or not. Just gives a connection that’s hard to explain.
The only regret with a BMW is selling it and not getting another BMW.
Regret selling the E30 (replaced with a Cadillac)
Regret selling the F30 (replaced with a Jeep)
Don’t regret selling the F25 because it was replaced with a G05
This is the way.
So, uh…is a cheap 1er a good idea? I keep seeing relatively cheap 1 Series, as in like, the nice rear-wheel-drive ones.
(This is your cue to hit me with the spray bottle and remind me that I’m saving up for another parsh.)
A well-kept, 100,000 mile 128 has been a great choice for me. The issues are known, and any independent BMW tech has seen thousands of N52 engines, which were used in a whole bunch of different models. Better brakes and suspension and a better intake manifold for more power can be taken from other BMWs. A grail slicktop six-speed with Sport seats will cost you, but plain manuals are out there, and there are lots of convertibles.
Just steer clear of the 135s. Even if they haven’t been abused by the youths, they are still fragile.
I’ve had an N54’d E88 ‘vert and it was delightful, although I was not a fan of the shifting feel (6sp manual, because manual), and you’ve got to watch out for various turbo-y bits grenading.
That said, if I was pitting a 1-series (even with N54 turbo) against a 987 (base model), I’d go Parsh every time. Have had both. Miss the Parsh. BMW was wonderful but the Boxster was special.
Parsh good. I need an aircooled 911 so much.
Other than some model specific parts, it’s mostly an E90. Not many sold in the States, so not a ton of support or community. But good cars, especially the N52 ones.
I have the same issue with rust repair in my area. No shop will do it anymore, there is too much money in collision repair. I hate bodywork but I’m going to have to do it at some point.
I grew up with BMW cars, but the only BMW in my life (not counting my father’s 325 which I often maintain/rescue) is my 2005 R1150GSA, which I have owned since it was 1 year old. It lives in Germany these days, waiting for our next annual two to three week reunion ride. I get on that bike after a year, and it’s like putting on an old pair of shoes that fit perfectly. It’s not as fast as my KTM or as smooth as my FJR but I’ll never sell it.
Mean while the little hearse, my R55 Mini Clubman is still purring along just fine.
“Little Hearse” is such an excellent nickname, not gonna lie.