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 was really hoping you didn’t regret the /6. Those are such great bikes. SOOO SMOOTH. I would remove the fairing if it were mine to make the front end a lot lighter, but then you lose a lot of the teal.
As for my BMW experience, I love their bikes, and still have my R1150GS. I had a 330 E46 for a short time, and it never grew on me. I think a lot of it was because I hated the seats. (It didn’t have the sport seats) It was also just an odd mix of not fast, and not great handling. It was much slower than my Mustang, but handled better. It was a little faster than my NC Miata, but didn’t handle nearly as well. I think I bought into the hype around that chasis, and expected more.
This is good
kinjawriter co-owned/operated publication (with an actual working comment section!) content.I own a 1978 R80/7.
I love the bike and enjoy riding it all over, but it has made me somewhat less than impressed with “German engineering”. Ever do the front brake pads on one? It is literally a 30 step process (of which only one step is “install new pads”).
Also none of the electrical connectors are sealed & all the ground connections are similarly unprotected, so I’m constantly chasing electrical issues due to bad grounds or connections.
Now understand, as I said, I love the bike & I’ll probably keep it for a long time. It just isn’t the marvel that some would lead you to believe. It’s a decent bike for its time – not terrible, but not a standout either. Should you buy one? Sure, they are fun bikes, just go in with your eyes open.
I hear ya. I’m so glad my dad redid all the wiring on my 1980 R100 before I bought it from him. He made his own harness with all marine grade stuff. The brakes on airheads kinda suck in general. Mine has dual front disks, but doesn’t stop worth a damn. Not even close to my old XS650 and that only had 1 non-vented disk. When I asked a BMW mechanic about what I could do to improve it, he said they all suck and there wasn’t much I could do.
Perhaps something to do with different specs for different countries, but my Australian delivery R80/7 had no electrical issues while I owned it.
Well kinda expected if buying a BMW which hasn’t be properly loved. I neglected a nice 635CSi long time ago that became infested with mice, yet no regrets, regret was actually selling it.
Longest ownership time of current stable is 12yrs and 100k miles by me, next is 9yrs and I hardly use it but definitely no regrets, rest are various age 3-16yrs and no regrets.
I have enough and all good experiences to post the opposite of this article.
My only BMW was a $1,650 F650GS. It was a bit of a let down. Heavy, handling was meh. Windscreen was useless. Expensive to find parts for when necessary. Clutch cable never felt like it was dialed in correctly. I think the best part of owning it was confirming my love for smaller, lighter bikes.
I don’t know about the newer ones, but the older BMWs are definitely more than the sum of their parts. I’ve got an E46 convertible, and there’s nothing on the spec sheet that would tell you just how much fun the car is to drive – it’s not the fastest on the road, but it’s so responsive and the handling and transmission are so crisp that it’s almost telepathic. The suspension hits the sweet spot where you can feel everything, but it’s smooth enough and the interior’s nice enough that I’ve comfortably taken it on week-long road trips, and it can actually fit 4 full-sized adults with legs attached. It’s pricy to repair, but it’s been pretty reliable, and it’s just such a joy to drive that I’ve never found a reason to upgrade to anything newer.
You hit the nail on the head with ‘sweet spot’. I had a 3 day test drive of my Roadster before I bought it. The first day on the Blue Ridge Parkway made it a done deal. It wasn’t the power so much as the poise & balance of the car. The weight balance means turns are almost telepathic, and the brakes are phenomenal. I can feel the road perfectly, but even 6 hours in it on various mountain roads in WV didn’t tire me out.
I haven’t become an evangelical ‘The Ultimate Driving Machine’ fanboy, but I get it now: I almost don the car rather than get in it.
I get it. I’ve never owned a BMW but I’ve had the pleasure of driving quite a few of them in my life through friends and friends of friends and they have been some of the best cars I’ve driven. Problematic assholes but when they work I enjoy them so much. the 98 750i was my personal favorite. Just a giant golden brown slab with 5 spoke rims commanding your attention. I remember that one being fairly reliable. At least more reliable than all the other ones I’ve driven.
I’m up to a lifetime total of seven Bimmers, with three currently in the stable. I think I’d classify one as a minor disaster (2000 540iAT, purchased for $1500; yes, I got to do the timing chain guides), one as a fine but forgettable driver (2014 X1, purchased CPO as my SO’s DD), one as simply too much car for my circumstances at the time (sorry, but no 21-year-old needs a 525iAT, no matter how lovely a car it is—they haven’t earned it yet), and the rest as being varying degrees of magnificent.
I learned to drive standard on my dad’s 1973 Bavaria – I loved that car.
2. 2007 335i – brilliant car when it ran, which was not often. But it did convince me that bimmers really were something special and that I wanted a good one.
1. 2018 440i – brilliant car that’s painted an actual color and is an absolute joy to drive. Almost 3 years in and nothing but routine maintenance so far (touch wood), this is likely my last non-EV/PHEV sedan and I hope to keep it forever.
Also owned a 2007 335i, and I say the same thing: fantastic when it ran, but was always waiting for the inevitable engine light to come on. Kinda kills the fun
I’m on my third E36 now, but I’ve always been running something else alongside.
My current one is a 323i manual coupe, on 186k miles.
I did a few small jobs over winter. Like the rear brake backing plates so that it had an actual parking brake again, plus the entire front struts, front calipers, gear linkage bushings, lower engine mounts, and the whole cooling system…
Y’know. Minor stuff. I’m just ignoring all the small rust bubbles around the arches because they aren’t structural…
…yet.
My only BMW is a 1977 R75/7. I always wanted one and this one just happened along at a great price through a friend. However, kids just happened along very soon after so I never got it on the road. I have been admiring it as it sits in the barn now for 16 years. Every few years I fire it up. The carbs always overflow and obviously need a rebuild but everything else seems ok. I’ll get it roadworthy once the kids are grown up, at which point I may be too old and scared to ride. We’ll see…
I’m confused why you can’t find a shop to do the X5 clutch for a reasonable price. I get the car itself isn’t a common one how different could it be than any other clutch?
Also, as someone who has lived all their life in southern ontario rust repair is a fools errand on anything that isn’t a classic. Enjoy it while you can, under oil it to get a little more time and put that money towards something new.
I think it’s just where I live. Nobody wants to work on a Smart, a Scion iQ, or that X5. Thankfully, I know Smarts inside and out, so that’s not a problem. But it was wild when we rolled up to a shop in Sheryl’s iQ (it needs a new A/C compressor) and the guy behind the counter said the car was an “exotic.”
I found just one guy willing to do stuff on Smarts two years ago and a guy for VW stuff a few years ago. I think I found the guy for the X5. Now to find the same for the iQ… I hope none of these guys go out of business. 🙂
I own a kei truck. Finding a mechanic to even look at small, easy things is pretty much impossible in my small-ish town. They take one look and say no, no matter how simple the task might be. I even took it to a couple auto body shops for some minor dent repair and possible paint, and they all said no thanks. Time to learn to do things. 🙂
Yeah, I haven’t even bothered to attempt to find any help for my Honda Beat or my Suzuki Every. Thankfully, I find them like Smarts where so long as I can see what I want to fix, I can probably figure it out. Plus, everything on these things is tiny!
Not sure how far you are from Rockford, but when I lived in the area like 8 years ago, there were a couple of pretty good independent shops that specialized in German stuff. Philips Automotive in particular was where I’d take my German cars, and I always had really good luck with them.
I had an e91 325xi wagon with a 6spd for 5 years. it was a nice car, comfortable and handled really well. It was also small, heavy, not very fast and got crappy gas milage. I now drive a boring blob (Honda Pilot). I miss driving the bimmer but the honda does all the things I need it to do better and cheaper. I wish there was a middle ground with some extra fun and a manual, but the newest manual midsize wagon that was sold in the state was the e61 and I don’t think that’s worth it.
Last year I bought an E91- in the right light it’s the fabled Brown, Diesel, manual wagon. It’s an M47 320d, so not exactly fast or the last word in refinement, though it is the most refined and comfortable car I own. It’s been no worse for maintenance than any of the other shitboxes I have. With 170,000 miles it’s needed suspension parts and a couple of wheel bearings, but mostly it’s just very boring.
I fully expect to be its last owner as euro 4 diesels are functionally worthless now.
Gotta say, 30k enjoyable miles with that E39 wagon for $1500 isn’t too bad!
That’s what I was thinking. Stay away from rusty BMWs in the future.
Owning a BMW outside of Germany is like keeping a Great Dane in a New York City efficiency. It’s out if it’s element, hungers for the autobahn. That’s why they commit suicide.
I am here yet again to spread the gospel of the E39. Reliable enough to buy, dependable enough to get you home, yet complicated and German enough to provide weekends of wrenching in pursuit of mechanical peace. Can we ask much more of a vehicle? You must sample a V8 model without mufflers. The soundtrack is divine.
Anyway, time to go diagnose a coolant leak.
I just did five months in a 2007 328xi sedan. My only previous BMW was a shagged 95 325i coupe that left me wondering what all the fuss was about.
Now I get it. My boring-model. 215,000 mile, automatic (I know) grocery getter with the heavy AWD bits was still an abject joy for 6,000 miles. The engine, the chassis, the steering, and the (for lack of a better term) car/me relationship were sublime. There were many days my Coyote Mustang sat because the BMW would be more fun. And in six months, almost nothing broke!
Of course I felt the sword of Damocles, so I sold the car as soon as the snow left…but I’d buy another one.
Man, y’all don’t even own old BMW’s. Even the E39 feels like a new car to my brain. I’ve owned 9 E34 generation BMW’s (my current one is a 1995 model) and that to me is the newest I’d want to go, because both the airbags and stability control are easily removed with no real consequences (good luck doing that with a newer BMW). The semi-trailing arm rear suspension design is superior as well, it’s so easy to swing it through turns and it’s very satisfying to steer the car with the throttle.
Why remove the airbags and stability control?
Stability control just gets in the way of driving if you know how to drive. Airbags I remove because they’re 30 years old and more likely to shoot metal shards in my face than anything useful. On a newer car I’m not opposed to airbags, but on old cars I’d rather not have them and just rely on my seatbelt.
A BMW Airhead motorcycle is probably the easiest, least frustrating BMW since they are built like a W123 Benz and have no bodywork to rust or electronics to fail. 70s Motometer gauges are unobtanium but VDO gauges are plentiful so hang originality. My R100S is full of non-stock stuff already and I’ve had it almost 35 years.
Unquestionably the best headline you’ve ever written.
Old bimmer ownership is not for the faint of heart.
Jason already had some issues around there, he should avoid this kind of thing.
But is a joy until something breaks. Most cars are like that, but BMW parts are expensive, decent labour is scarce and is not always really DYI friendly.
But wordeful cars, no questions about it.
I’ve never owned, driven, ridden in, or ridden on a BMW. On two occasions I’ve helped push an Isetta. I don’t regret either occasion.
The E39 530i I drove years back was, and remains, the best overall car I’ve ever driven. It exceeds beyond all expectations at everything it sets out to do.
About a decade ago I had a coworker who owned a 530i with the Sport package. He had a long commute and a Ford Fiesta that he drove 98% of the time, but every once in a while I’d see his BMW in the parking lot. I always wanted a 540i Sport, but after the one time I got to ride in his 530i, I am open to either as both are gems.
The 540s are (and feel) HEAVY. The 530i feels just about as fast, if not quite as brawny, if that makes sense, and the sixes have fewer maintenance headaches to worry about. You may have heard about the V8 timing chain issues, but there are also things like a really stupid power steering pump design that’s prone to cracking along its one (!) mounting flange, or the water-cooled alternator, because what’s one more critical component reliant on a BMW cooling system. The V8 has its charms, for sure, but at this point I’m team 530 all the way—I think it’s the E39 sweet spot.
Get a Clownshoe. There will also be no regret.
I heartily endorse this sentiment.
Sure, they look funny, but, once you’re in the Fun Seat, you don’t GAF
I’d do a lot of clowning with an M Coupe.