Good morning! Today we’re going to discuss the possible implications of that fateful five-word question: “How bad could it be?” Well, we’ve got a partially-disassembled Jaguar, and a high-end BMW that conked out in a parking lot and hasn’t started since. Neither one is for the faint of heart. Which one will tempt you to make bad choices?
Yesterday we looked at two tiny imports with even tinier engines. There was lots of talk about engine swaps in the Suzuki – and one commenter mentioned a full chassis swap onto a wrecked side-by-side frame – but in the end, the Honda Z600 won out. No need to swap the engine in that one; just get it running again, plant your foot firmly on the gas, and listen to it sing its little song.
Or at least, that’s the way I would go. I’ve always been fascinated by those early high-revving Honda engines, and I’d like to experience one for myself someday. And I’ve spent way too much time screwing around with two-stroke snowmobiles to want to mess with that Suzuki engine. It may only have a dozen moving parts in the whole thing, but there are endless ways for it to run like crap, or not run at all.
Now then: We’ve all done it. Something catches our eye, and we are powerless to resist it, no matter how many warning bells go off in our heads. Old houses, cheap boats, that aspiring model you met at the party – you just know they have the capacity to break your heart, but you go for it anyway. And you learn the hard way. (At least, one would hope.)
In the automotive world, certain cars have similar reputations, BMW and Jaguar among them. They’re nice cars, but fragile and expensive to repair when (not if) something goes wrong. And their appalling depreciation and resulting low prices make them even harder to resist. So what do you say? Let’s put on our Bad Idea Jeans, and take a look at one of each.
1990 Jaguar XJ-S Convertible – $2,500
Engine/drivetrain: 5.3-liter overhead cam V12, three-speed automatic, RWD
Location: Caspar, CA
Odometer reading: 114,000 miles
Operational status: Unclear – but I don’t think it’s drivable
As far as I have ever been able to tell, the only difference between a “grand tourer” and a “personal luxury coupe” is country of origin. They’re both big two-door cars meant to impress onlookers and eat up miles in style, with comfortable interiors and big engines. The Jaguar XJ-S may have succeeded the E-Type, but it was no sports car; it was a lot closer to a British Cadillac Eldorado.
The XJ-S had one thing no Cadillac had been able to boast since the 1930s, however: a twelve-cylinder engine. Jaguar’s High Efficiency V12 grew out of its earlier design and sent nearly 300 horsepower to the car’s rear wheels – at least in Britain. American XJ-Ss made do with a mere 263 horsepower – still nothing to sneeze at in the 80s and early 90s. If I’m reading the ad right, this engine is not original to the car and has only 35,000 miles on it. I think it was just recently installed and is not ready to fire up just yet. I don’t think the radiator has been put back yet.
The car itself has only 114,000 miles, and it looks pretty good. The leather and wood are in decent condition, anyway. The rearview mirror is lying on the center console, but that’s easy enough to re-glue onto the windshield. It is a British car, though, so there’s a good chance that at least some of those electrical switches are inoperative.
It’s in reasonable shape outside, but not great. There’s a pretty good ding in the passenger’s side door, and the grille is missing, though it might be in the trunk or something. The hood is, I think, just set in place, and not yet reattached to its hinges; it looks like it is completely removed in the engine bay photos.
2012 BMW 750Li (Alpina B7?) – $3,990
Engine/drivetrain: Twin-turbocharged, 4.4-liter dual overhead cam V8, six-speed automatic, RWD
Location: Portland, OR
Odometer reading: 106,000 miles
Operational status: Ran fine a month ago, now won’t start
I grew up, as so many enthusiasts my age did, idolizing BMW’s big sedans. The 5- and 7-Series sedans from the 1980s were legendary, with their shark-nosed profiles and their powerful inline sixes. It’s hard to tell exactly when these cars fell from grace; it happened by degrees. The 90s editions gained V8 engines and more rounded shapes, but still looked purposeful. But then, with a Bangle-butt here and a VANOS rattle there, they just got more bloated and complex. By the time they looked like this one, I had lost all interest.
Worse, the reassuring numbering system that had let us all know what was under the hood of any given BMW began to break down around this time. This is a 750, which should have a five-liter engine by the old numbering system, but it does not. It has a 4.4 liter V8, with two turbochargers improbably nestled between the cylinder banks. It’s powerful, certainly – it boasts an output of 400 horsepower or more – but at the cost of some truly frightening reliability problems. This one was bought at auction, parked for a month, and has not been operational since. It will run for a few seconds on starting fluid, which points to a fuel delivery problem, but BMW fuel pumps aren’t easy, or cheap, to replace. The seller seems to know this, and is dumping the car for six thousand dollars less than they paid.
Inside, it’s in nice condition, but of course it’s a hellscape of electronic gobbledygook, centered around that iDrive thingy that everyone hates so much. At least it’s old enough to have some physical controls as well. These are very comfortable cars, no doubt, but I still personally dislike the fact that “luxury” now means electronic crap rather than superb quality.
The seller calls it a 750Li M-Sport, but I don’t think that’s what it is. It has an Alpina badge on the back, and the VIN comes back as an Alpina B7, which would make it quite a bit more special, and more like 500 horsepower. That might make it more worth fixing, but no less expensive or frustrating to troubleshoot.
I guess the good thing about these two is that they’re as cheap as they’re ever going to get, so you have some wiggle room in the budget to whip them back into shape. But it won’t be easy; their current woes are likely just the beginning. Buy low and sell high is the standard advice when investing; with cars like these, I think it’s buy broken and sell running – before they have a chance to break again and break your heart in the process. So which one have you fallen for: the sleek twelve-cylinder Jag, or the lightning-fast spaceship BMW?
(Image credits: sellers)
Topless cars and topless bars offer at least a chance of fun in exchange for your bad decision. Even if the BMW can be sorted, what does it really offer? Given the risks, nobody’s taking that up to autobahn speeds – decisions can be bad or batshit-level bad, and stressing best-they-can-get versions of either would be the latter – and what else do big German cars excel at? The Jaguar excels at the kind of driving one would actually use it for and a sturdier engine can always be swapped in. (Instead of an LT swap, I’d prefer somehow combining two supercharged 3800s into a modern and reliable Double Six, but I don’t think there are kits for that.)
Oh man I want the Jag, then I saw that mess that is the wiring harness/vacuum line routing under the hood of the Jag and it makes me want to cry for my mommy, but in the end I still went for it because it’s probably cheaper to get back on the road, and I would like it better once it does run.