BMW’s M1, M3 and M5 represent almost ten years of the fruitful alliance between the Munich company’s road and racing division, from the outright sports car to the luxury saloon with supercar performance – Performance Car
The next two days promise to be 48 hours to remember; 48 hours to savour and enter into the memory archives; to be labelled an experience worthy of being re-told whenever possible.
For the next two days we are to leave behind the grime and traffic-choked streets of London, where single-figure average speeds dull the mind of the motoring aficionado. We are to venture west of that life-size Scalextric track, the M25, to experience the uplifting fresh air and tranquaility of the West Country. After disposing of the fast, but caravan-clogged A303 through Wiltshire, we will penetrate as far as Dartmoor. We will survel at that barren, yet bleakly beautiful stretch of moorland which attracts tourists in their droves, yet which frequently bites back at those who pay disrespect by failing to dress suitably for the sudden change in climate. Or who fail to be prepared for the spooky and disorienting mists that quickly descend.
We have fixed up to stay overnight on the edge of Dartmoor, at a place that we know from time past will provide us with welcoming surroundings and good food. Very early next morning, hopefully before the first rambler’s boot-lace is stretched tight, we will be at a pre-arranged spot on the moors, with Peter Robain’s lenses capturing on film the three cars’ foray to the South-West.
Perhaps not an unusual assignment in the diary of a car magazine; but what makes this job special is the company we are keeping. We are to drive three of BMW’s ‘M’ cars, the 3-Series M3, the 5-Series M5, and the now historic M1. Three of the best BMW’s ever made, and our 24-valve pocket-calculator may not have enough digits to work out what their combined value is!
Easily the most valuable of the trio is the M1, the mid-engined racer produced by BMW Motorsport GmbH between 1978 and 1981 for the express purpose of GT-class circuit racing. Only 456 were built, and the few that found their way into Britain at a price of £37,000 (all left-hand drive) now change hands for well over £60,000. And we are to drive a well-kept, low-mileage model.
In the mid-1970s, BMW Motorsport was being run by Jochen Neerspach, who wanted a car for BMW to field in the prestigious Group 4 and Group 5 classes. For eligibility, a minimum production run of 400 was necessary within a 12 month period. They also had to be produced, all of them, before any racing could take place.
The M1 was actually modelled loosely on a previous mid-engined project, but basically it had to be designed and built from scratch. There was some pressure to get the project finished quickly, too, because when the car was given the go-ahead, in 1976, Neerspach wanted it to makes it motor show debut in 1978 in Geneva, with a first race at that year’s Le Mans.
A tubular spaceframe chassis, covered by a reinforced glassfibre body, drew heavily on BMW’s Formula 2 experience; coil-spung suspension used double track control arms at the front, along with long, semi-trailing arms at the rear, designed to restrict wheel camber change. Steering was unassisted rack and pinion; disc brakes all round did the stopping.
Neerspach would have liked to slot in BMW’s then proposed 4litre V12, had it been available, but instead had to settle for a revised version of the firm’s big six. Ideally, the engine would have been mounted transversely, but the width would have created insuperable transmission problems.
The M1’s dry-sump engine was designated the M-88, and was similar to that of the racing CSL coupes which had campaigned from 1974. Based on BMW’s standard 3.2litre iron-blocked unit, it was bored out to 3454cc, and gained a head with double camshafts and four valves per cylinder. It used a Kugelfischer/Bosch fuel-injection system, and in standard form pumped out 277bhp at 6500rpm, along with 242lb ft torque at 5000rpm.
But the competition versions were to be rather more powerful! The Group 4 car (with bigger valves and a higher compression) gave 470bhp at 9000rpm and 530lb ft torque at 7000rpm. Group 5 cars used a smaller, 3.2litre block, but with a KKK turbo gave as much as 850bhp, depending on how far up the boost was turned. Transmission was through a five speed ZF gearbox, a ‘box with first out on a dog-leg opposite reverse.
In those days BMW didn’t have the capacity to produce all the cars, so given the pressure to produce the M1s quickly, Giugiaro was commissioned to style the body, and the design and assembly work was farmed out to Lamborghini in Modena. But Lamborghini ran into their own financial problems just as production was about to start in mid 1977. With no further financial support forthcoming from BMW, Lamborghini weren’t able to keep to their promise of two cars per week, so the whole project was rethought, and BMW arranged for the Stuttgart firm Baur to mate the body and chassis together, with the final assembly being carried out by BMW Motorsport. Although the car was actually announced for sale in 1978, more delays occurred, and it wasn’t until 1981 that the homologation quota was fulfilled. By this time, the M1 simply wasn’t competitive, and so in a sense was a still-born racer. However, in a clever stroke of face-saving publicity, a series had been organised during 1979 and 1980 in which Formula One drivers hurled the cars entertainingly round the tracks as part of the ‘Procar’ championship.
Our rendezvous in Fleet Services on the M3 (the road, we’re talking about), which means our first experience of the M1 is when collecting it from its owner Derek Taylor, who lives in Ealing. We arrive during peak morning rush-hour; the traffic outside his flat is at a standstill.
While manoeuvring out of Derek’s slot in the crowded car-park, the M1’s racebred character becomes obvious; the gearbox has a difficult, clonky movement (though Derek reckons his 6500mil car’s ‘box has still to loosen up), and the clutch is heavy. The Motorsport engine will run at low revs, but it doesn’t like it.
The steering has a poor lock, and the big three-quarter body flanks mean rear vision is decidedly blinkered. And the sheer value of the car creates a certain anxiety.
Yet as they often do when encountering low, exotic, and very expensive sports cars in a traffic-jam, other cars temporarily suspend their aggressive antics; a Brylcreemed, Next-clad rep makes way as we attempt a right turn before him; he smiles as our proposed manoeuvre turns into a wheel-wrenching five-point turn.
Rush-hour roundabouts are tricky too; no good coasting up in third, then flooring the pedal when a gap is spotted. You must select second – or perhaps first – well in advance, allowing time for a fluffed change through the difficult gate. You must then pick up the throttle from at least 3000rpm. No, in town the M1 is wasted; it’s the antithesis of the slick, well-mannered BMW, and it makes a Porsche 911 seem an easy run-around car.
On the M25, making one of its rare public appearance, the M1 draws a curious reaction. Other drivers double-take, but few seem to know what it is; most probably think it’s a Lotus until they see the twin BMW roundels on its rump. Maybe it’s just not pretty enough to catch the eye of the layman; the driver of a company 518i cuts us up in a bad-mannered inside-lane overtaking manoeuvre; he doesn’t give the M1 so much as a second glance. Second and third glances are what the M3 does get. Every status-conscious Yuppie loves the 3-Series, and even if few understand what the M3 is all about, they still take time to marvel over it. Some even want to know the price; will it be within their divisional budget?
Compared to the crisp lines of the standard 3-Series, the M3 is brutal. The wider, metalled wheel arches and the side-skirts result in fatter, more ground-hugging appearance; the squared-off bootlid spoiler is purposeful rather than graceful. Yet to most eyes the M3 is no less handsome; in a different way it has all the perfect balance of the cooking 3-Series.
Like the Sierra Cosworth for Ford, the M3 exists to allow BMW Motorsport to go racing in the Group A production class, fielding a competitive car. And indeed the signs are that the M3 and the Cosworth will clean up.
Homologation demands a production run of 5000 within a year, so originally this number was built within a few months to satisfy the regulations. Some of these are raced by the factory, and a few more by privateers, which leaves the majority to be sold as road cars. However, M3 production continues at a low level, and BMW intend to evolve it.
Originally, BMW weren’t interested in importing the M3 to the UK, but last year they changed their minds; left-hand drive cars are now on sale to special order at a cost of £23,550.
BMW say the M3 is far more than simply a faster 3-Series, and the first substantiation of this claim is that under the bonnet lies a four, not a six. Smooth and refined BMW’s small six may be, but it doesn’t have impressive torque, and clearly a big four rather than a little six would be better so far as frictional losses and weight distribution were concerned. A shorter-stroke engine would also allow much high revs – up to 9000rpm when in full race tune.
Hence, BMW used their staple four-cylinder engine as a base (the same one which is used in Formula One); the bore was increased to give a capacity of 2302cc, and the block capped with a 16-valve head which is a modified version of the 24-valve head for the M1.
BMW’s familiar digital Motronics fuelling I used, and road cars produce 200bhp at 6750rpm, with 177lb ft of torque at 4750rpm. With a catalyser, the outputs are 195bhp and 169lb ft respectively. The transmission is a five-speed Getrag ‘box with a dog-leg first and close ratios, though with top set for 21.3mph/1000rpm the road car isn’t particularly low-geared.
The normal 3-Series chassis isn’t one of the best, but BMW have determinedly made it good for the track. The front axle geometry and castor have been modified for improved high-speed stability; the front and rear anti-roll bars are thickened; twin-tube gas dampers front and rear are specially tuned. Wheels are 7-inch alloy, running 205/55 VR15 tyres.
The power-steering has raised gearing, reducing turns from well over four to 3.6 (can we have this on all 3-Series models, please?), and there are larger disc brakes all round, with ABS standard. Traction is sided by a 25 percent limited-slip diff.
It’s a racer all right, but creature comforts haven’t been stripped out; included are sports seats, electric windows and sunroof, and a trip computer.
If the M1 is a handful in traffic, the M3 couldn’t be more civilised. Certainly the unfamiliar Getrag gate takes some getting used to, but otherwise there’s little hint that the M3 is a thinly disguised racer. The engine fires at the first turn of the key, settling down to an even tickover that is all but inaudible.
The clutch is light and smooth, and the engine needn’t be revved hard to get moving. Slim body pillars allow excellent all-round vision; the neck-craning needed to drive the M1 simply isn’t necessary. No compromises are required in town.
The third of our trip – the M5 – is really cheating by wearing the “M” badge, for it isn’t a race specialist like the other two. Yet with a price of £34,850 it isn’t going to be anything other than a limited-edition.
Costing a hefty £11,855 more than the skirted and bespoilered M535i (over £4000 of this is accounted for by extra equipment), the M5 is nevertheless a Plain-Jane to look at. Only the BBS wheels shod with 225/50 VR16 Pirelli P700s, and a small tail spoiler, immediately differentiate the M5 from most other 5-Seires variants. Understatement is a serious business these days.
The M5’s engine is a direct descendant of that of the M1. Whereas the M535i engine is a 3430cc single-cam 12-valve affair producing 218bhp, the 3453cc M5 unit pushes out a massive 286bhp at 6500rpm. Bosch Motronics are added to the twin-cam, 24 valve head of the M1, and torque is 251lb ft at 4500rpm.
Transmission is again by a Getrag five-speed close-ratio ‘box, but without the dog-leg first. To the driveline, add a 25 percent limited-slip differential.
Naturally the chassis comes in for the Motorsport treatment, too. The front struts and rear semi-trailing arms have tougher spring rates and uprated gas dampers, and are assisted by thicker roll bars. The disc brakes have ABS.
At this price you expect luxury as well as purity of engineering, and it is supplied; the M5 comes with air-conditioning, electrically-adjusted sports seats, electric sunroof and windows, central locking, and an on-board computer.
On the M3 and A303 dual-carriageway sections down to the South-West, it’s the M5 which takes the honours. For a start it’s by far the quietness of the three; the Motronic engine retains all the silken refinements of the normal BMW six, and at all but the highest revs the engine whispers to you. No need ever to turn the radio up.
Comfort, too, is faultless. BMW’s sports seats are a thousand times better than the standard item, for they provide excellent back, side, and thigh support. The electrical adjustment is also much more than a toy, as it allows the driving position to be honed perfectly. Even the headrests are powered. The steering wheel – a leather-bound M-technic rim – is adjustable for reach, and is good to hold.
Then there’s the sheer power which makes the M5 such an effortless long-distance cruiser. 286bhp in a 5-Series body is a lot of horsepower, and overtaking is contemptuously easy. Part-throttle usually provides the necessary acceleration; a change-down is rarely called for. BMW sixes aren’t renowned for tractability, but the M5 has plenty of usable torque. From 2000rpm onwards flexibility is strong.
The motorway, however, doesn’t flatter the M1. With the engine inches from the car-drums, exhaust roar and transmission whine make for a noisy cabin. Neither could the M1 be described as a comfortable car; the low-set seats have no adjustment apart from fore and aft movement, and the short cockpit means the seat has to be as far back as possible.
If you stick to the 70mph limit, the M1 isn’t very happy in fifth. At this speed the engine still hasn’t reached 4000rpm, this being the point where it begins to sound like a product of BMW Motorsport. To prevent the engine and transmission chugging, fourth is the gear to use; the flexibility of the M5 just isn’t there.
The M3 isn’t as serene on the motorway as the M5, but for what is genuinely a road-going racer it’s a refined cruiser. It has the same sports seats as the M5, and what a difference they make over the standard 3-Series seats. Whereas the normal seats are flat and none too comfortable, the sports seats give support just where it’s needed. Adjustment (the electrical movement isn’t available) consists of height, tilt, and extendable thigh supports. As with the M5, leather can be specified, but that’s extra. The steering wheel can be adjusted, but this probably isn’t necessary anyway.
Initially, the unavailability of right-hand drive seems a drawback. But those familiar with the left-hand driver set-up is actually superior in terms of pedal positioning and footwell space.
The M3 driver has to accept more engine noise, however. With a lower fifth and less top-end refinement than, say, a 325i, high-speed cruising is less relaxing.
Off the motorway, the M1 has its chance to shine. For it’s on the more interesting A-roads that the best can be had from the Motorsport engine and chassis. Through fast bends the accurate steering provides superb feedback (three turns lock to lock; just right), and it’s at this pace that the weighting is best – light, but not excessively so.
Then there’s the delightful chassis balance that is rarely the property of anything other than a mid-engine car; a flick of the steering wheel sees an instant turn in, with understeer building up gradually and predictably. Ultimately, the M1 would be an oversteering car, though it would take a high proportion of the power output to wrench the fat rear boots off the tarmac. The ride is surprisingly good; far more supple than might be imagined.
Braking is superb; though ABS wasn’t common in the M1’s day, the big discs haul the car quickly down from speed, the pedal feeling solid and reassuring.
Contemporary reports credited the ‘production’ M1 with a 0-60mph of six seconds dead, and there’s no reason to think Derek’s car wouldn’t still do that. However, you have to work hard to get scorching acceleration from the M1, for the serious power lies right at the top of the band, between 5000 to 6500rpm. The engine can fall off the cam quite easily, and there’s a rev limiter forcing you to be prompt with the awkward gearbox.
But when the M1 is in full flight, it’s a wonderfully exciting car. The engine bellows out its race credentials after 5000rom, and co-ordinate revs, gears, steering, and braking is a rewarding experience which makes softer cars seem antiseptic by comparison.
Of the two moderns, the M3 has the more responsive and enjoyable handling. It’s simply in a different world from any other 3-Series. The higher-geared steering has good weighting, and though not alive with feel makes cornering feel far sharper than on a 325i.
Road grip is naturally very high, and there’s barely even a degree of body-roll when pressing through a bend. But the M3’s greatest chassis asset is how nimble it feels; the tighter the bend the more the car begs to be taken through it quickly. It’s not a difficult trick to unstick the rear wheels, but thanks to the taut springing and damping it’s also easy to guide the tail back into lime. Braking, as you’d expect from big ABS-assisted discs, is powerful.
The M5 loves fast, sweeping bends, and the up-rated, well-sorted suspension allows the up-rated, well-sorted suspension allows the big car to power round bends that could see less sporting 5-Series models trip up. At high speeds the tail of the M5 – normally the Achilles heel of the 5-Series – feels securely stuck to the ground. The recirculating ball steering too, has good weight and gearing.
Where the M5 concedes ground to the M3 is around slower, tighter bends. The swooping, sharply cornered roads in the middle of the Dartmoor told us that. Where the M3 can be thrown with complete confidence into a sharp bend, the M5 enjoys it less. The wheels lose grip earlier, there is some body roll.
Day two of our travels sees us driving on the western side of Dartmoor, and by the time we approach Princetown the narrow roads are awash, a good opportunity to see how the M3 and M5 behave in the wet. Both cope well, and there seems to be little of the inherent semi-trailing arm treachery that has caught many a BMW driver out. Both cars’ tails will ultimately go light under power, but the threshold of grip is much higher than normal.
The M3 may take the points in the chassis department, but when it comes to performance the M5 wins by a considerable margin. It proves in the clearest possible way that there is no substitute for capacity. BMW claim 0-60mph in 6.2seconds and 153mph maximum and when we tested an earlier M5 we recorded 151mph and, exactly as advertised 6.2seconds.
The M3’s strong torque allows it to be punched out of a corner using half revs rather than having to wind the motor right up to make an effective effort. But though it isn’t necessary to rev the engine, there’s a treat in store if you do.
Between 5000 and 7000rpm it has a fabulous punch; you’re left in no doubt that this is a racing car engine. The normal hum turns into a pronounced growl, and it’s this sort of revving that will allow zero to 60mph in a little over six seconds and a maximum of 146mph. There’s certainly a lot of vibration at high revs (specially insulating engine mounts aren’t able to eliminate this entirely), though few would say it spoils the car.
At our final coffee stop before heading back to London we perform the essential task of sorting out the paraphernalia which has been scattered throughout the three exotics and our camera car.
It gives us time to reflect on the practicality of the three cars. The M5, we all agree, makes fine high-speed family transport, and it looks discreet enough to avoid drawing attention. It’s the quietest, and probably the easiest to live with. It has given us 27.2mph, surprisingly good.
The M3, too, is highly refined, but it wouldn’t make such good day-to-day transport. It’s noisier at speed, and the rear seat is very cramped. But it too has been economical, averaging 26.3mpg.
This is an argument the M1 can’t possibly win. General refinement is really only mediocre, and the interior and dash are very much 1970s BMW, a touch plasticky, even. And then there’s the luggage space: a small compartment aft of the engine will take just one suitcase.
We each have our favourite out of the three, but we ask our hotelier which one he’d take if we hadn’t the money to pay the bill. ‘Just leave the white one,’ he replies without hesitation.
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June 30, 2008
1986 - 1989, Articles