My quest for the ultimate driving machine...
Posted: Thu Apr 09, 2015 2:56 am
This first post has turned into a rather lengthy backstory. I enjoy hearing about the owners and why they do certain things with their sixxers nearly as much as hearing about the cars themselves. If you don't fancy this side of things, I don't blame you. Feel free to start from post #2 and skip all this nonsense.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I thought now was a good time to start a thread about my 1985 M635CSi. This is as much a diary to help remind myself in the future of what I have done as it is a way to help anyone else who may be working on their own sixxer.
First, a little history. Why the e24? In the mid-80's I was 15 years old, totally into cars and the perfect age to find the car of my dreams. My father was into cars and we always had anywhere from 5~10 clunkers around the house, of those 2-3 usually ran. They were mostly older American iron, '50s and '60s GM products, Fords and Chryslers along with some other independent brands. We had a couple of '52 International 1/2 -ton pickups, a few '63 Lincoln Continentals, a '65 Dodge Polara 500 Convertible and requisite coupe parts car, numerous '65-’66 Mustangs, a ‘66 Econoline van, a ‘66 Cadillac Coupe de Ville, etc. I can’t remember them all. We were always dragging some heap home. Sometimes they ran, a lot of times they didn’t. For a kid I thought it was pretty cool. All kinds of different designs to admire and crawl around in. Except the Econoline. At the time, I didn't find that to be a very cool vehicle to be dropped off at school in. For all his love of American cars, he was also really into old VWs as well. I have no idea how many ‘60s and ‘70s Beetles and Vanagons we went through. I guess there were so many Beetles on American roads at that time, and maintaining one was cheap and easy, so that it almost seemed like they were just another American car. By that, I mean they didn't seem exotic. Just another car on the road, albeit much smaller than most anything else we usually had in our stable. Having said that, he did occasionally venture off the beaten path and would bring home a European car, and the only new cars I can ever remember him buying were 2 Hondas; a ‘70-something Accord hatchback, I think it was the first gen Accord, and an ‘84 or ‘85 Civic 4WD Wagon with a 6 speed transmission! On the European front, I clearly remember the yellow ‘77 Saab 99. Unfortunately it was the 4 door sedan and not the cooler 3 door hatchback, but I liked the car nonetheless as it was the only Saab in town for probably 2 decades or more, and I tended to be drawn to the different and obscure. I actually learned how to drive a manual transmission on that Saab. The smell was different from all the American cars, and I thought it was kind of cool. The engineering involved was also different, not to mention the styling. All of it was different which, for a rebel without a cause (or is that clue) teenager, made it that much more interesting. I almost forgot, he had an Opal fetish for a little while owning 2-3 Kadets, but those never really got my attention. He had a couple of X1/9s, on the other hand, that did get my attention. They were parked more than they ran, but when running, those things were a blast to drive!
I was constantly helping my father work on our cars: pulling engines, bleeding brakes, replacing parts. The best part was cruising junk yards. Since we always needed parts to fix something then we were regularly searching junk yards, or people’s back yards, for parts and parts cars. Looking back on all this now I can definitely see where my father had hoarding tendencies, but as a kid, it was like playing with well used full scale Matchbox cars. One of my most vivid memories was when he purchased a 1965 Chrysler 300 convertible. It was the typical non-running,, but complete, car with a good bit of rust. One of those projects that would have required way more money than we had to actually make it right. Unfortunately, after towing it home I don’t believe it ever saw the road again, but for one last glorious day she cruised the back roads of southern Mississippi, not under her own power unfortunately, but being towed by chain behind whatever large car or truck we had running at the time. Being towed by chain meant someone had to steer the Chrysler. My mother really didn’t get into the budding car collection so that meant I was called up. For a kid of 14 or 15 who didn’t have a driver’s license, this was awesome. I could sit in the driver’s seat and pretend I was cruising down the road in my convertible picking up girls. Never mind the fact that the only engine noises were coming from my mouth and the convertible top had holes in it. That wasn’t part of the fantasy. Anyway, by this time I had already commanded multiple land yachts behind a rope or chain so I was pretty good at braking enough to keep the line taught so as to minimize jerking when taking back off. On this particular excursion we had a 30~45 min. drive through the countryside where my father found the car to our home back in town. Everything was going great through the backroads. The steering was heavy since the engine didn’t run, but it was manageable. Manageable until the steering got very light all of a sudden. I did some quick side to side action on the steering wheel and noticed that the front tires were not responding in kind. I quickly started waving my left hand and arm out the driver’s side window and slowly applied the brake in an effort to get my father’s attention. Luckily it worked, and before we got to the next curve in the road we were able to slow down and stop. My father popped the hood and quickly figured out that a pin had fallen out of the steering shaft, disconnecting the steering wheel from the front wheels. He rummaged through his stash of miscellaneous stuff, found a closely sized nail, shoved it through the holes and bent it downward so it wouldn't fall out, and then we proceeded on homeward with no further incident.
So how did a kid who grew up with mostly American iron in the yard get into European machinery? I always found the stuff he brought home interesting, and I still love ‘50s American cars especially, but I was also a teenager and like most teenagers wanted to separate myself from my parents. In addition, the ‘70s and ‘80s were not highwater marks for American cars. There were some exceptions, of course, but in general the designs and certainly the technology in them didn’t interest me much at all. Plus, as stated above, I was always drawn to the odd and different, and in small town Mississippi most anything from Europe or England (with the exception of the aforementioned Beetle) qualified as exotic. Sitting at home reading my old copies of Road & Track and Car & Driver I could imagine being behind the wheel of all kinds of sporty cars from the other side of the pond. Enjoying the unlimited speeds of the autobahn, cruising through scenic Italy, maybe taking part in a Millie Miglia revival. It’s always good to have dreams. I always loved 2 seater sports cars, preferably with a top that went down, and was especially drawn to little British roadsters, Triumphs in particular. I also liked GT coupes with their sporting character, but a hint of practicality in the +2 rear seats. I always loved great style, but I liked it tempered with a dose of reality. I guess that’s why I am an engineer today and not an automobile stylist.
So back to the original question, why an e24? As an early teen I wasn’t loyal to any one brand. I just liked cars, fun and interesting cars. While consuming as many road test articles as possible about contemporary cars of the time, Ferrari’s and Lamborghini's were certainly high on my lust list, and Porsche was making some really cool cars as well. One magazine article in particular sticks in my mind. It was a Road & Track article about the fastest factory road cars available in the world. In this article, the minimum top speed of a car had to be 150mph to even qualify. At that time there weren’t a lot of factory cars that could hit or surpass that mark. The usual suspects were there; Ferrari, Lamborghini and Porsche. There was also a bruising Aston Martin Vantage amongst others, and included in this elite club was a BMW M635CSi. Of course the M6 didn’t win the competition, but for me that wasn’t really important. The fact that it was even in the same company as a Ferrari 512BB, Lamborghini Countach, and Porsche 930 and was a proper GT car that you could live with every day and drive on normal roads was what I thought was cool. The exterior shape certainly didn’t hurt either. From nose to tail I could find all kinds of viewing angles which flattered the car. The forward protruding nose positively screamed at other cars to get the hell out of the way, the long hood/short trunk proportions were spot on, the sharp angle of the Hofmeister kink, the deep front spoiler, the offset rear exhaust pipes; all of these features came together to form one of the best looking GTs I’d ever seen. Luckily moving to the interior didn’t disappoint. Those were some of my favorite seats, and I loved the adjustable thigh support. The chunky (at the time) 3-spoke steering wheel with the tri-color flash at the bottom looked purposeful. I loved how it was driver-centric and seemed like the perfect place to helm such a piece of mechanical art. I also loved the shape of the individual rear seats, although I of course imagined myself in the driver’s seat. From a design standpoint, inside and out, I loved how it looked muscular and aggressive while at the same time wasn’t too flash as other cars of that era could be. It struck the right balance for me. But all of that may have paled when the hood was opened and the DOHC straight 6 emblazoned with the simple statement, “M Power”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I thought now was a good time to start a thread about my 1985 M635CSi. This is as much a diary to help remind myself in the future of what I have done as it is a way to help anyone else who may be working on their own sixxer.
First, a little history. Why the e24? In the mid-80's I was 15 years old, totally into cars and the perfect age to find the car of my dreams. My father was into cars and we always had anywhere from 5~10 clunkers around the house, of those 2-3 usually ran. They were mostly older American iron, '50s and '60s GM products, Fords and Chryslers along with some other independent brands. We had a couple of '52 International 1/2 -ton pickups, a few '63 Lincoln Continentals, a '65 Dodge Polara 500 Convertible and requisite coupe parts car, numerous '65-’66 Mustangs, a ‘66 Econoline van, a ‘66 Cadillac Coupe de Ville, etc. I can’t remember them all. We were always dragging some heap home. Sometimes they ran, a lot of times they didn’t. For a kid I thought it was pretty cool. All kinds of different designs to admire and crawl around in. Except the Econoline. At the time, I didn't find that to be a very cool vehicle to be dropped off at school in. For all his love of American cars, he was also really into old VWs as well. I have no idea how many ‘60s and ‘70s Beetles and Vanagons we went through. I guess there were so many Beetles on American roads at that time, and maintaining one was cheap and easy, so that it almost seemed like they were just another American car. By that, I mean they didn't seem exotic. Just another car on the road, albeit much smaller than most anything else we usually had in our stable. Having said that, he did occasionally venture off the beaten path and would bring home a European car, and the only new cars I can ever remember him buying were 2 Hondas; a ‘70-something Accord hatchback, I think it was the first gen Accord, and an ‘84 or ‘85 Civic 4WD Wagon with a 6 speed transmission! On the European front, I clearly remember the yellow ‘77 Saab 99. Unfortunately it was the 4 door sedan and not the cooler 3 door hatchback, but I liked the car nonetheless as it was the only Saab in town for probably 2 decades or more, and I tended to be drawn to the different and obscure. I actually learned how to drive a manual transmission on that Saab. The smell was different from all the American cars, and I thought it was kind of cool. The engineering involved was also different, not to mention the styling. All of it was different which, for a rebel without a cause (or is that clue) teenager, made it that much more interesting. I almost forgot, he had an Opal fetish for a little while owning 2-3 Kadets, but those never really got my attention. He had a couple of X1/9s, on the other hand, that did get my attention. They were parked more than they ran, but when running, those things were a blast to drive!
I was constantly helping my father work on our cars: pulling engines, bleeding brakes, replacing parts. The best part was cruising junk yards. Since we always needed parts to fix something then we were regularly searching junk yards, or people’s back yards, for parts and parts cars. Looking back on all this now I can definitely see where my father had hoarding tendencies, but as a kid, it was like playing with well used full scale Matchbox cars. One of my most vivid memories was when he purchased a 1965 Chrysler 300 convertible. It was the typical non-running,, but complete, car with a good bit of rust. One of those projects that would have required way more money than we had to actually make it right. Unfortunately, after towing it home I don’t believe it ever saw the road again, but for one last glorious day she cruised the back roads of southern Mississippi, not under her own power unfortunately, but being towed by chain behind whatever large car or truck we had running at the time. Being towed by chain meant someone had to steer the Chrysler. My mother really didn’t get into the budding car collection so that meant I was called up. For a kid of 14 or 15 who didn’t have a driver’s license, this was awesome. I could sit in the driver’s seat and pretend I was cruising down the road in my convertible picking up girls. Never mind the fact that the only engine noises were coming from my mouth and the convertible top had holes in it. That wasn’t part of the fantasy. Anyway, by this time I had already commanded multiple land yachts behind a rope or chain so I was pretty good at braking enough to keep the line taught so as to minimize jerking when taking back off. On this particular excursion we had a 30~45 min. drive through the countryside where my father found the car to our home back in town. Everything was going great through the backroads. The steering was heavy since the engine didn’t run, but it was manageable. Manageable until the steering got very light all of a sudden. I did some quick side to side action on the steering wheel and noticed that the front tires were not responding in kind. I quickly started waving my left hand and arm out the driver’s side window and slowly applied the brake in an effort to get my father’s attention. Luckily it worked, and before we got to the next curve in the road we were able to slow down and stop. My father popped the hood and quickly figured out that a pin had fallen out of the steering shaft, disconnecting the steering wheel from the front wheels. He rummaged through his stash of miscellaneous stuff, found a closely sized nail, shoved it through the holes and bent it downward so it wouldn't fall out, and then we proceeded on homeward with no further incident.
So how did a kid who grew up with mostly American iron in the yard get into European machinery? I always found the stuff he brought home interesting, and I still love ‘50s American cars especially, but I was also a teenager and like most teenagers wanted to separate myself from my parents. In addition, the ‘70s and ‘80s were not highwater marks for American cars. There were some exceptions, of course, but in general the designs and certainly the technology in them didn’t interest me much at all. Plus, as stated above, I was always drawn to the odd and different, and in small town Mississippi most anything from Europe or England (with the exception of the aforementioned Beetle) qualified as exotic. Sitting at home reading my old copies of Road & Track and Car & Driver I could imagine being behind the wheel of all kinds of sporty cars from the other side of the pond. Enjoying the unlimited speeds of the autobahn, cruising through scenic Italy, maybe taking part in a Millie Miglia revival. It’s always good to have dreams. I always loved 2 seater sports cars, preferably with a top that went down, and was especially drawn to little British roadsters, Triumphs in particular. I also liked GT coupes with their sporting character, but a hint of practicality in the +2 rear seats. I always loved great style, but I liked it tempered with a dose of reality. I guess that’s why I am an engineer today and not an automobile stylist.
So back to the original question, why an e24? As an early teen I wasn’t loyal to any one brand. I just liked cars, fun and interesting cars. While consuming as many road test articles as possible about contemporary cars of the time, Ferrari’s and Lamborghini's were certainly high on my lust list, and Porsche was making some really cool cars as well. One magazine article in particular sticks in my mind. It was a Road & Track article about the fastest factory road cars available in the world. In this article, the minimum top speed of a car had to be 150mph to even qualify. At that time there weren’t a lot of factory cars that could hit or surpass that mark. The usual suspects were there; Ferrari, Lamborghini and Porsche. There was also a bruising Aston Martin Vantage amongst others, and included in this elite club was a BMW M635CSi. Of course the M6 didn’t win the competition, but for me that wasn’t really important. The fact that it was even in the same company as a Ferrari 512BB, Lamborghini Countach, and Porsche 930 and was a proper GT car that you could live with every day and drive on normal roads was what I thought was cool. The exterior shape certainly didn’t hurt either. From nose to tail I could find all kinds of viewing angles which flattered the car. The forward protruding nose positively screamed at other cars to get the hell out of the way, the long hood/short trunk proportions were spot on, the sharp angle of the Hofmeister kink, the deep front spoiler, the offset rear exhaust pipes; all of these features came together to form one of the best looking GTs I’d ever seen. Luckily moving to the interior didn’t disappoint. Those were some of my favorite seats, and I loved the adjustable thigh support. The chunky (at the time) 3-spoke steering wheel with the tri-color flash at the bottom looked purposeful. I loved how it was driver-centric and seemed like the perfect place to helm such a piece of mechanical art. I also loved the shape of the individual rear seats, although I of course imagined myself in the driver’s seat. From a design standpoint, inside and out, I loved how it looked muscular and aggressive while at the same time wasn’t too flash as other cars of that era could be. It struck the right balance for me. But all of that may have paled when the hood was opened and the DOHC straight 6 emblazoned with the simple statement, “M Power”