When the M3 was announced in 1986 marking BMW’s return to motorsport, few would have guessed just how prolific it would become and just how many variations on the basic theme there would be. Last year, 500 Evolution models, plus 180 of the extra-special Convertibles, joined that standard car (worldwide) and in august this year, BMW announced the Roberto Ravaglia Special Edition model to commemorate the Italian’s efforts in taking his Schnitzer M3 to victory in the 1987 World championship and the European Touring Car Championships of 1987 and 1988.

Only 25 of the Special Edition M3s were offered in the UK in August and they’ve all been sold, at a price of £26,850 each. Bigger front and rear spoilers from the powerful, 220bhp. Evolution M3 adorn the exteriors and there are lightweight rear body panels too, of the sort used on the actual racing cars.

Inside, there’s a special upholstery, with leather edged seats and leather-covered headrests to match, while on the outside, black-painted 7JX16inch cross-spoke alloy wheels carry the same 225/45ZR16 Pirelli P700s used on the Evolution car. Oh, and don’t forget that special plaque fixed to the centre console signed by the boy himself, Roberto Ravaglia.

Under the bonnet is a revised version of the four-cylinder, 16-valve engine but, this time, exhausting through a three-way catalytic converter. Its power output falls between those of the standard 200bhp car and the 220bhp Evolution car with 215bhp at 6750rpm. But to achieve that extra power and satisfy the lead-free demands of the catalytic converter, this version of the M3 engine is comparatively light on torque. Whereas the standard car develops 176lb.ft and the Evolution M3 181lb.ft both at 4750rpm, the Special edition produces less than either of them, with 170lb.ft at 4600rpm.

It’s the premium you pay, if you like, for running the engine on 95 octane unleaded (two-star in other words) instead of 98 octane (four star), something possibly reflected in our test figures. At the Millbrook proving ground, our Special Edition test car managed 0-60mph in 7.1 seconds compared to 6.9 for the standard car and 6.7 for the M3 Evolution we tested in the October 1988 issue. And while the same Evolution model wound its way up to a mean maximum of 144.2mph, the Special Edition was slower, by a whisker, at 143.6.

All this is fairly academic of course. A tenth of a second here or there is undetectable unless you’ve got a few thousand pounds worth of test equipment handy. And the same goes for the top speed.

It’s worth noting, though, because from now on all standard M3s, will be fitted with catalytic converters (and that means unleaded petrol only) matching exactly the engine specification of the Special edition car.

The wider wheels and tyres fitted to both the Evolution and the Special Edition M3s have also become standard on current ‘base’ M3s and it’s that extra grip, first offered on the M3 Evolution, that makes all the difference. In every other sense however, the new, unleaded M3s will remain as they are – no lightweight body panels, no Evolution spoilers, and no special interior trim.

On the road it’s much the same story as it always was, apart from the fantastic grip afforded by those big tyres. The differences between engine types is so subtle that it’s simply impossible to discriminate between the latest specification and those of the previous models.

Perhaps the only noticeable characteristics of this one, which may not have been there before, is the second wind it apparently (and surprisingly) gets at around 6300rpm. When accelerating flat out in either of the first two gears, there’s a fairly distinct urge at that point, almost as if the engine’s coming onto the cam for the second time.

It could have been a quirk of our test car, though that’s unlikely. But what it does emphasise is the smoothness of the M3 power unit at those revs. Nearing the rev-limiter at just over the 7000rpm mark, there’s no indication of an impending asthma attack – that desperate struggle to reach the red line just because it’s there. Rather, the gutsy four-cylinder power unit gives clear notice that, were it not for the restrictions of road tune, it would happily wait away until 9000rpm for so.

In the corners it’s just as much fun as it always was, too. Despite weighing in at 2864lb, the M3 turn-in with delightful nimbleness and responds to hard acceleration in tight corners with neutrality and poise.

Seemingly Unlimited Grip On The Road

The M3 is now one of the new generation of medium-sized, high-performance saloons to be fitted all-round  with the super fat tyres previously found only on cars like Porsche-Carreras and even then only on the back. The result in the M3 is a level of grip bordering on the ludicrous and, frankly, to talk about the car’s limits of adhesion on the road is preposterous; the speeds have to be so high.

But for the sake of argument, you can take it that a 225/45 P700 equipped M3 will react to high power in very tight bends with mild understeer. You just can’t make the back end let go in the dry, even in first gear, unless you build near maximum revs and dump the clutch.

You can also assume too that, at high speeds, it remains much the same as ever – a neutral drift at the limit, with the tail pushed out of line by too much power as you might expect. On the road, though, you would have to be driving dangerously fast to move the car about on its tyres like that – on a dry surface at least.

One characteristic that does linger from driving this latest M3, however, and which has always been a dominant element of M3 personality, is the need for plenty of gearchanging to keep it on the boil. A flexible plugger it is not. That can be tiring but never boring; you’ll always walk away satisfied, and start looking forward to the next time five minutes later.

The cost of all this fun, not surprisingly, has risen. The retail price of a pre-catalyst car was £23,550 and the 25 Roberto Ravaglia Special Edition M3s, as we mentioned, cost £26,850 each. You can expect, meanwhile, that a BMW dealer will want to relieve you of £24,200 for the latest specification catalyst equipped car. But then, if It’s exclusivity that you’re after, the M3 must still come near the top of the list. BMW sold 55 M3s in the UK in 1987, 58 in 1988 end, up until October of this year, a total of 68.

There’s one thing, however, that never changes, and that’s the simple fact that all M3s are still left hand drive…

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While red, violet, and blue might not be the sort of combination you’d choose for the May Ball, just a glimpse of those colours is enough to set the pulses of most cars enthusiasts racing.

Because that distinctive tri-colour stripe is what-sets certain BMWs aside from most other BMWs, and usually slaps another 20 per cent on the price into the bargain.

Not without cause, though – because the letter ‘M’ in the famous emblem stands for Motorsport, and on a BMW’s bootlid it generally means business.

Most people have heard of the ‘M’ cars. The mid-engined M1 sportscar of the 1970s is probably the most famous. It, in turn, lent a close derivative of its powerplant, the 24-valve, 300bhp 3.5 litre straight-six to the M635CSi coupe of 1984, the M5 due in the Uk in right-hand drive form early next year.

1987 was also the year of the M3, the four-cylinder, 2.3 litre 3-Series ‘homologated’ car, which took saloon car racing by storm, with wins in the German Championship, the European Championship and the World Championship.

The ‘M-Power’ late starts in 1972, when a certain Bob Lutz thought it might be a good idea to establish a specialist division to look after BMW’s racing interests.

That wasn’t the start of BMW’s racing successes though, far from it. There was, of course, a heavy involvement in motor racing both pre-war and post-war, but it was in the 1960s that BMW started along the saloon car racing path that they’ve stuck to ever since. Following the BMW 1500 in 1961, the 110bhp, 112mph 1800 __ which arrived three years later won 27 out of the 28 races entered in 1964. And following those successes a limited edition car, the BMW 1800 TiSA (Tourismo International Sport-Aushtuhrung) was sold to 200 lucky customers, for Dm13, 500 each.

The First Of Many

In 1966 Hubert Hahne started the ball rolling properly. By winning the European Championship with an 1800 TiSA and Dieter Quester followed that up in 1968 and 1969 with a 2002 and 2002 turbo.

In 1972, Jochen Neerspach was norminated to start the new division at Preussen Strasse in Munich and a string of successes followed.

Other bosses would follow in his footsteps during the next two decades, as BMW Motorsport grew – there was Scheu, Prommesberger, Flohr and finally Kalbfell.

But BMW Motorsport GmbH have changed a lot since their early days. They have evolved from a simple toot designed to win races, into a sophisticated instrument whose function is embroiled with development of some of BMW AG’s major products. While they haven’t lost that innovative capability, and the ability to produce winners on the race tracks, they are also responsible for designing and producing series production cars that reflect, says Karl-Heinz Kalbfell, the very heart of BMW Kalbfell, at 40, hes made it.

He joined BMW AG’s communications department in 1987 and was leading it by 1985. In October 1988 he was made head of Motorsport.

On the wall at the end of his office is a variation of the famous ‘M-Power’ logo – I reads ‘K-Power’, a leaving present from his colleagues at BMW AG. On the window sill behind his desk is an ornamental mask with one eye blacked in; it is another gift, this time from Japanese colleagues.

Setting Out Objectives

When you start a job, explained Karl-Heinz Kalbfell, looking at mask: ‘you paint one eye black when you’ve set your targets. You paint the other eye black when you’ve achieved those targets.’

And he’s got plenty of those to fulfill. Motorsport’s production plant is at Garching, a Munich suburb. That’s where the new M5 is handbuilt, while the M3 is now built at BMW AG, as are all Motorsport-series engines. The engine development division is at Preussen Strasse, together with four engine dynos, and the uual array of exhibits, including the old Formula one engines.

‘We have capacity for 2000 cars at Garching,’ Kalbfell continued, ‘and we’ve just finished the last of the 180 M3 Convertibles. Our sales overall, including the M3s built at the main plant, will be about 4500cars. In total we’ve built 15,000 M3s to date and that would be too many to consider building just at Garching.’

So how much have Motorsport changed? How much time is devoted to racing and how much to the roadgoing specials that the division has become so famous for?

It’s difficult to describe that exactly, because my way of organising this company is to link all the specialists together a little bit, so the engine specialists, for example, are working on both racing engines and series engines. But to give an idea I’d say the split is roughly one-third racing and two-thirds street cars.

The company has one philosophy and that’s all under one roof. We don’t operate like a mini BMW AG. Today Motorsport has two important roles. One is racing, where we prove our engines’ reliability and performance and try and produce the best handling cars. On the other hand we have the direct link with racing by building unusual series cars for a small number of people who don’t reflect the average BMW customer. ‘So BMW Motorsport is not  a racing department, a racing company, or a production company, it’s a high performance company.’

BMW were traditionally a conservative company, and it’s taken two decades to turn them into the creative and progressive body that they are today. But in the early 1970s the turn-around was only half complete and that begs the question as to how such a radical core as the fledgling Motorsport division has dovetailed into the corporate whole over the years – and been tolerated by it.

‘I don’t think ‘tolerate’ is the right word: they need us. People often expect that I’m a racing man, but I’m a sales and marketing man and that’s the way I run this company.’

‘My chief consideration has to be what the need is for BMW AG, to have a company like this one. In the 1970s, the products were very heavily directed towards sportiness only. Now it’s completely different. Today the limits on everyday motoring are increasing and traffic conditions will be moderated. But on the other hand companies must continue to improve the efficiency of their technology, and that’s a good reason to place an even stronger emphasis on racing in the future.’

Another division of BMW is BMW Technik GmbH, the research division responsible for the Z1. So together with the main R5D facility that makes three separate engineering facets of the company contributing to the output of the company as a whole BMW Technik are involved principally with research into new techniques and materials, while Motorsport are concerned with developing what’s already there. But major new projects like the M3 have to start somewhere, and it’s usually as the result of a single good idea. And although Kalbfell points out that he wasn’t around when the M3 project was started, it’s a good example.

‘It’s really up to the strengths of managing directors in getting their ideas across tot eh board on individual projects,’ he says. ‘Motorsport is an independent company owned 100 per cent by BMW AG, we have our own finance and sales departments, but where the resources already exist in the parent company then we use those, it would not make sense, for example, to build a separate distribution system. But we are responsible for fulfilling our own financial targets, and it’s up to us to find the right products.’

Forward Planning

How about their contribution to the main R6D department?

‘I mainly hear what they are planning, because their thinking is in the longer term. We plan from five to ten years ahead, though at ten years our plans are relatively open; at five they’re fixed.’

The M3 will carry on racing for another two years. After that, says Herr Kalbfell, ‘we’ll look at other options to remain competitive. No, there isn’t any likelihood of larger series cars returning to racing, the future is still with the 3-Series.’

There’s also no likelihood, says the Motorsport boss, of any project concerning the Z1. ‘There isn’t any capacity at the moment anyway.’

There are plans, however, to provide a greater service to individuals wanting modifications made to their existing cars. It’s not a service that BMW advertise, but usually happens as a result of customers asking their dealers about it. It’s an area that Kalbfell is anxious to expand.

‘We did 200 last year and at a guess, it might be nice to do, perhaps, 500 this year.’

But the new M5 forms the principal thrusts of Motorsport’s activities at the moment. And it’s that project that is perhaps one of the most impressive, in production terms particularly, to be found inside a major manufacturer anywhere in the world today. Because a few miles away at the Garching plant, on the ironically named Daimier Strasse, M5s are assembled entirely by hand, each on one of 20 individual hoists.

The M5 shops at Garching are breathtaking. Red-tiled floors are scrubbed by machine at the end of every day, leaving a perfume I the air more reminiscent of someoen’s kitchen than of a factory.

Siegfried Schwarz started with BMW in 1965 as a race and rally mechanic and has been at Motorsport since 1973. He is the man charged with making sure that 2000 M5s leave the plant in the next year and he’s got about 82 people to do it with. Same 72 of those are productive mechanics and ten are quality inspectors. There are about 110 people all-told – including engineers, storekeepers and so forth.

He starts with bodyshells which arrive from the Dingolfing plant complete with radiators, plumbing and interior trim. Seats are only installed for convenient transportation, they come straight out again. The shells are cleaned, put on a jig and initial work is done to the underbody, including the fitting of heat reflecting material to protect it from the hot exhaust.

From there, the cars are wheeled into a second shop and are installed on one of the 20 hoists. Next door 35 or so of the 24 valve, 3.5 litre 315bhp engines lie in racks, waiting to be built into complete front axle assemblies, each engine, built at the Munich factory, is the rough Deutschmark equivalent of a complete BMW 316. A few feet away, rear axles get the same treatment.

Next door again, one men assembles each car, unwittingly endowing it with his signature.

‘Every mechanic has his own individual style’, explains Peter Locke, who’s in charge of export sales. ‘The quality inspectors can work out who built each car without being told.’

The mechanics are unusually skilled, and most started in specialised crafts like tool-making. A new routine of quality checking was instigated recently, whereby senior mechanics are charged with checking work in progress, a better solution than having quality inspectors looking over the mechanics’ shoulders.

At the far end of the assembly shop is the upholstery department, where there’s a machine that can shave any of the many hides in stock down to a thickness of 0.3 millimetres. You can have almost anything you want.

‘If you want your trunk finished in leather then we will do it for you’, says Peter Locke, ‘One customer wanted his dash trimmed in water buffalo hide’, he continues, uncovering an incomplete M5 dashboard which had been lying on one of the finished tables.

‘The problem is, water buffalo hide fades in strong sunlight. We put this in writing to him to make sure he understood, but we’ve given him what he wants, nevertheless.’

When the cars leave the hoists they are drivable and go back over the road for the ABS rolling road tests, suspension setting, and finally to the finish line where they are checked, waxed, road tested (every car is tested for 30kilometres) and then sent to the dealer.

Each car is spoken for before it is built, no stocks are held, and a customer can come and see his car being built if he wants to.

The M5 is 100 per cent quality controlled, so every single nut and bolt that goes on it is checked during and after it’s completed.

They’re all left-handed drive and German spec at the moment. British, US and Canadian spec cars will start production in the spring of 1990.

It’s a remarkable feat, and it’s astonishing to see it coming from a major manufacturer. Siegfried Schwarz reckons the principles operated there work well for everyone. Mechanics are often working on different things, since the number of areas varies from day to day. So it’s a flexible system and there’s better motivation for those concerned.

If they product they build there is anything to go by they’re right.

Earlier, Karl-Heinz Kalbfell was understandably cagey when questioned about the forthcoming 850i Coupe, and thought it probably ‘too good’ to need much doing to it. That probably means there are no plans for a more sporting version at present. After all, the new M5 was announced within six months of the introduction of the 5-Series itself.

But the M635CSi ceased production a couple of months ago, and it would e nice to think of another coupe coming from the red-floored workshops and wearing the distinctive ‘M’ badge on its boot.

Meanwhile, we can only sit and watch the progress of what must be one of the all-time crack divisions in the car industry. Its turnover has gone from Dm50 million in 1985 to Dm300 million today.

And that really cannot be at all bad for a company employing just 450 people, can it?

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The headlights were a mile away and downwind. Nothing happened for some time, and then they flashed, as if flicking from dip to high beam. In fact the car was leaving the start line at 5000rpm, in this case at least, the perfect ‘stepping-off’ point. A few seconds later the quoted factory figures tumbled in a flurry of gearchanges. Because of the wind, it was impossible to hear the sound of the engine until the car was fully halfway down the strip towards us. When it did come it was intoxicating; the straining, raucous, blast of a big straight-six at full chat. It was beginning to look as though the West German manufacturer Aplina, with the latest in their long line of re-born BMWs, had got away with gliding the lily once again. The B6 3.5S, and M3 fitted with modified 3.5litre engine, was making a mockery of conventional performance figures and proving, decisively, to be more than just another ‘special’.

Rarely does a car come along with creates quite as much excitement as the BMW M3. Not only was it the first 3-Series genuinely to nudge the upperechelons of high performance, but it was a four-cylinder 3-Series at that.

For the M3, BMW discarded the strict observance to the self-imposed six-cylinder rule that had served them for so long. Instead they settled for an engine based around a similar block that on the one hand propels lesser 1.6 and 1.8litre cars and yet on the other, in turbocharged guise, formed the basis for their own Formula One engine. The M3, of course, was intended strictly for motorsport.

But mention to a BMW technical man that you’ve tried a six-cylinder hybrid of the now world-famous saloon racer and liked it, and he’ll most likely reply with a nod of understanding. Go on to say that the car you’ve driven is powered by the 2.5 litre six as you might expect, but a refined and beefed-up version of the 3.5 litre six, and far from shrinking away in horror, he’ll smile.

They’re tried the concept too, you see. They too, know just how well it works.

But despite that, the 3-Series to end all 3-Series cars comes from the Alpina works just outside Buchloe (say Book-low-ay), rather than the BMW Motorsport halls in Munich. You may remember that Performance Car tried one briefly last year during a trip to Burkard Bovensiepen’s small but exclusive factory, to drive the new B12 (750i based) and B10 (535i based). Driving the B6 fitted with the B10 engine, was an unexpected bonus.

There’s precious little space left under the bonnet of the B6. The front of the big, in-line six, snuggles up to the radiator at one end, and a slightly modified firewall at the other. It’s a tight fit alright, but there’s no drastic cutting or welding needed to make it work.

Behind the engine is the standard M3 gearbox, with the usual dogleg first gear pattern. Strong enough to withstand the 300bhp Group A racing engine, it’s strong enough to handle the torque of the modified 3.5 litre unit too, up from the four-cylinder M3’s 176lb ft at 4000rpm. Power, meanwhile, has been increased from the four’s 200bhp to 260bhp at 6000rpm. The engine will develop that sort of power using unleaded fuel, but should you go for the no-holds-barred emissions version with its EMITEC three-way car cat, then it would be fair to expect slightly less, somewhere in the order of 254bhp.

Other than that, there’s not much change from the basic. The front springs have been changed’ swapped for those used on air-conditioning equipment M3s. The extra weight of the air-conditioning equipment is on par with the 3.5 litre engine. It couldn’t be simpler.

Aplina’s big 8JX16 wheels provide the only visually obvious difference. Wrapped in 225/45VR16 Michelin MXX tyres, they’re not only an inch wider than the original but bigger in diameter by the same amount. In fact the Alpina wheel and tyre sizes exactly match those of the 1988 M3 Evolution. The factory original had small 205/55VR tyres.

Inside Aplina’s M3 there’s walnut trim on the dash as well as the centre console. It’s good enough to look like original equipment but in some ways slightly incongruous in this throughbred of thoroughbreds. One of the dash mounted, rotating fresh air-nozzles is replaced by a special version containing digital instrumentation. This strange device, which frankly, you could live without, displays details of oil pressure and temperature, final drive oil temperature and intake manifold pressure. Alpina-trimmed upholstery adds tot eh effect and there’s a chunky Momo steering wheel too. But the rest of the car is standard M3, and that includes the now familiar left-hand-drive only bodyshell.

Start the B6 up and you’ll be left in no doubt as to the most important difference of all. In fact, you might imagine that you’ve startled a frightened creature rather than activated an inanimate object. The chassis will jerk nervously beneath its driver before settling down, not to a quiet murmur, but rather, an uneasy grumble. The Alpina tuning, which includes their own brand of chip for the engine management system, doesn’t leave the straight-six with the slowest, smoothest of tickovers. There are other changes too, of course, the usual things like camshaft, valves and compression ratio have been interfered with. And the forged pistons from Mahle are shorter, with longer connecting rods to build in more smoothness at higher revs.

The back-towards-you dogleg position of first gear will add to the confusion of using your right hand if you’re not used to left-hand-drive. But there’s nothing unusual about moving away in the B6 – not until you open the throttle. Alpina use a rear axle ratio of 2.79:1 instead of 3.25:1 with a limited slip differential set at 25 per cent, and that all adds up to the long-legged acceleration of the sort that can only be enjoyed in the presence of real power. The engine’s slightly lumpy tickover promises a jerky low-speed response – but it’s just kidding really. A wonderful, mellow howl accompanies the quick dispatch of first gear at 45mph while second gear will take you, Porsche Carrera-like, up to the legal limit at 70mph. Hold third to the 6600rpm rev limiter and you’ll be whisked to 93mph while fourth gear will take you right up to 127mph.

At the Millbrook Proving Ground the B6 blasted to 60mph in 6.0 seconds dead, matching a Ferrari Testarossa, and scorched its way on to 100mph in 15.8 seconds. In fourth gear it will gobble up the 60-80mph increment in just 5.7 seconds and the 70-90mph gap in exactly the same time.

The standard M3, impressive enough in its own right, will take 6.9 seconds to reach 60mph and a full 20.5 seconds to get to 100mph. The 60-80mph increment, meanwhile stretches to 7.3 seconds and 70-90mph 7.9 seconds.

Alpina claim a top speed of 156mph top speed for the B6 which admittedly seems a lot for the square fronted 3-Series. But the B6 didn’t disappoint us and, on the high speed bowl, it averaged 152mph on what was quite a windy day. Allowing for scrub on the two-mile banked circuit (as well as the wind) that’s about what you might expect given several miles of dead straight road.

Mind you, there’s a premium for all that performance. The B6 averaged 20mpg on the road and 12mpg at the Millbrook proving ground.

It’s a heavy car. The B6 tips Millbrook’s scales at 2970lb with a full tank of fuel, compared to Alpina’s official unladen weight of 2904lb. So despite the extra weight, 60bhp plus 60lb ft of extra torque see to it that the power-to-weight ratios are 196bhp per ton, or 200bhp per ton unladen.

But all that weight seems lost in a sea of engineering refinement. The turn-in is even sharper than it was before and the taut chassis and high-geared steering are a sure-fire recipe for a car that’s as nimble as any of its famous forebears.

Oh yes, the ride is uncompromisingly firm. But at the same time it’s never irritating or tiresome. And anyway, on smoother, faster, roads it will seem quite mellow, while on motorways the chassis tracks like the proverbial arrow.

Inside, the driving position is clearly meant for business. There’s no difference from the original and there’s room to sit close enough to the wheel even with long legs. Heel-and-toe shifts are easy and useful for smooth, fast cornering as the 3.5 ltire engine decelerates sharply when you lift-off.

Most important of all with a hybrid car like this, is that the balance is near perfect. The big engine, shoe-horned (however neatly) into the engine bay apparently has no adverse effects on the chassis at all. The B6 understeers less if anything, than the original, due to a large extent no doubt, to the bigger tyres. In short, that M3 chassis, including the different roll-bar, damper and spring settings – still works the magic that separates it from any other 3-Series.

Familiarisation doesn’t take long. Any driver will soon learn that the B6’s roadholding is leech-like. And before long anyone interested in exploring the limits will discover just how progressively that chassis will oversteer with the application of that awesome power – even in the wet. In fact if the mark of a fine chassis were to be just how easily it can be driven and controlled, tail-out, in a small space; then the B6 would easily rank amongst the best.

But the same sharp injection cut-off which makes heel-and-toe downshifting desirable, combined with the 3.5’s heavy flywheel effect, also demands technique on the up-shift. The standard M3 Getrag gearbox (with the same internal ratios) will not be hurried. Reach maximum revs in first and expect to snick-snick the lever into second and you’ll be sadly mistake. Though the clutch is smooth, that awkward dogleg will make you concentrate hard to start with. Rush it and the B6 will make you wish you hadn’t – ill-matched revs will set the Alpina jerking its way to third.

Feather the throttle slightly, cover the clutch pedal rather than dump it, ease the gearlever deliberately but quickly through the gate, and you have it.

Stopping is much more straight forward. The B6 retains the M3’s 11.8inch ventilated front discs and 9.8 inch solid rears, together with those racing s pecification, single-pot callipers on the front, and ANS.

But macho though the new Alpina may be, the wilder side of its nature quickly settles down in town. Trickle it through the city streets and the B6 will come quietly, eager to please, smooth and supple. But underneath a degree of menace still lurks. It’s always there, always ready to leap out, and you always know it. That is what’s so exciting.

It is a classic motorcar for sure. Spend a week with it and you’ll almost regret it – the following week is lost in hopeless fantasies of a Pools win.

The B6 is a villain among motorcars. It’s wicked, and attacks the road with a gritty exuberance. Yet it’s not temperamental, you’d have t be daft to get caught by it, and most important of all it’s not a trickster in the wet.

But in this case the priviledge of ownership doesn’t come cheaply. You’ll probably remember that Burkard Bovensiepen, Alpina’s boss and founder, also specialises in some of the worlds finest wines. You may also remember that he considers his cars and wines to be complementary to one another.

The B6 costs Dm85,000 (£27,243) in Germany exclusive of tax. In the UK it is available to order from Sytner of Nottingham (0206 582 831) for around £35,000 depending on the specification. It’s a lot, but the B6 is also one of the best rear-wheel-drive performance cars you are ever likely to find.

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The ‘log book’ for C232 HVW, a Ford Sierra RS Cosworth, is now as travel stained and battle-scarred as this Sierra’s under-belly. For this hard-worked Ford, a 2000-mile round trip to meet BMW’s latest Motorsport weapon, the 146mph M3, came on top of life as a press demonstrator which saw service on the model’s original launch in Spain.

Yet, in our hands, this white, three-door Sierra averaged over 23mpg, while occasionally inserting over 80 miles into each hour while turbo-whistling its way to our meeting with the M3. The Ford’s consumption was exceptional, for it was mostly running off-boost, keeping over-cool company with our long term 325i along the way. The RS, however, did develop a thirst for water that verged upon the rabid!

That impromptu log covers an unusually eventful span from 14,400 to 16,600 miles on the Sierra’s recorded mileage and includes one or two incidents in our stroll across Europe.

Half a day and £500 lost to French customs, for instance. Or the best part of 24 hours wasted, close to yet another border, when Walton and a fallen rock consummated an unwanted relationship that cracked the Cosworth’s alloy sump.

The severing of the same car’s exhaust manifold to twin exhaust downpipe at our chosen circuit was another hiccup in a tough trip, but it was all worthwhile.

For these two showrooms and circuit competitors promise a new dimension in the capable compact saloon class that Mercedes pioneered with Cosworth in the widely praised 2.3/16.

Travelling south we found our objective, BMW’s 200bhp, Motorsport division developed 3-Series – better known, to friend and foe alike, simply as the M3.

For two days we played in paradise. We had the use of a deserted race track (one of Europe’s best, with 3.3 miles of kinks and crests that recall a sunny Brands Hatch) and free run of the surrounding public roads: ribbons of motorway, city avenues and bump-ridden byways on which to pit Ford against BMW in their most exciting contest since the days of the 320bhp RS Capris and the BMW CSL ‘Batmobiles’ in the European Touring Car Championships of the 1970s.

The white Ford and the fleet BMW are worthy adversaries. Despite the presence of turbocharging on the Ford’s 16-valve Cosworth 2-litre, the Sierra RS and BMW’s M3 come to the line with almost the same power to weight ratio: 167.2bhp per ton for the heavier and larger 3-door Ford, versus 169.5 for the compact 2-door BMW.

They also have practically the same aerodynamic drag factors: BMW’s revised 3-Series outline weighs in at 0.33, against Ford’s production confirmed 0.34Cd.

Ford and BMW also agree on conventional front-engine, rear-drive layouts that depend on MacPherson front and semi-trailing arm rear suspension. Furthermore, both share gas damping, the standard security of ABS-backed four-wheel disc brakes and power-assistance for more responsive rack-and-pinion steering to guide substantially modified chassis of production origin.

Performance was bound to be close between such similar concepts (though they will race in different classes as Ford’s turbo will race in different classes as Ford’s turbo takes the Sierra into a bigger league) and in the event we found it was hard to separate the pair in back-to back electronic measurement of their prowess at the circuit.

Both Ford and BMW utilise their 200bhp outputs to sprint from 0-60mph in less than seven seconds, both will exceed 145mph and only 0.5mpg separated them in track use.

On the road, BMW provide a measurable fuel consumption advantage, but the Cosworth-boosted Sierra retaliates with a killer display of flexibility in the higher ranges of fourth and fifth gears.

From 50-70mph and beyond, the high-winged product of American ownership and American transmission, Belgian manufacture and British engineering, stomps away on the German Dunlops that it shares with Porsche. And the multinational Ford finally leaves the Fatherland trailing, with a small maximum speed advantage.

However, we all know how figures can deceive, so what are such cars like to live with? Which would you marry, if you would marry at all?

To help us answer such crucial questions, both manufacturers allowed unprecedented access to their cars. We tried M3s on two brands of tyre (Uniroyal and Pirelli), with and without such option as air conditioning, leather upholstery, sunroof and trip computer.

Our testers have also driven a number of similar Fords, including the updated car photographed here and one absolutely brand new production RS, and over a wide range of terrain.

Interior & Controls

The M3 has the initial air of an ordinary 3-Series; neatly coordinated, with the ultimate on analogue instrumentation clarity, but with detail changes which make it an even finer cabin to occupy.

As ever, BMW switchgear is laid out logically and operates with a precise air of quality that Ford can only contemplate.

Ford themselves have a riot of colors on their 160mph speedo, on the 7000rpm tachometer and above the slightly gimmicky rocker switches with their hedgehog ‘bristles’ to assist sweaty digits. BMW burst into splashes of red only to delineate a 7000 to 7300rpm warning band, or to act as warnings on the usual water temperature and fuel tank dials.

They do, however, permit themselves some time off from somber high quality plastics and restfully toned grey cloth trims – with a splash of Motorsport colors about the central dashboard M3 logo, repeated on the bottom spoke of the Motorsport leather-rim steering wheel.

Ford give you an XR3i wheel with a leather rim and the accountants had even allowed a leather gear lever knob on the test Sierra RS! On stepping from BMW, Ford trim strikes the senses as typical Euro-mass-manufacture and you are also conscious of how rough those Ford flap-style door latches are in comparison with the operation and finish of the similar BMW door access.

Ford seats do not adjust to cover as many possibilities as those of BMW, which are manufactured by the company themselves, not by Recaro, says their spokesman. BMW offer the driver thigh, height, and tilt controls, in addition to the normal backrest and legroom adjusters.

However, Ford’s sporting Recaro front seats (With driver’s-side height adjustment and excellent rotary knob backrest control) were voted just as comfortable as those of BMW and the driving position is outstanding. BMW used to be in a class of their own in this department, but Ford and Recaro have cooperated to provide more location at no discernible penalty in long distance comfort.

BMW incorporate an oil temperature gauge on the M3, where an ‘econometer’ normally sits in lesser 3-Series; it stayed rock-solid, at just under 100°C, even in track use. Ford tailor their standard dash by incorporating the boost gauge from the Sierra Merkur XR4Ti (2,3-litre, as raced by Andy Rouse in 1985-86) in one corner, but no oil pressure or temperature information is provided.

Ford also gloss over the need for a footrest (extraordinary in this class of car) but BMW do include this vital item. Ford counterpunch, however, with a conventional five-speed gearchange pattern for their Borg Warner T5 unit, whereas BMW have gone for the rather dubious (on a road car) racing pattern, with first to the left and back and second to fifth to its right in a standard H-pattern. The layout has obvious first to second gearchange deficiencies in urban or standing start use, and BMW cannot claim they had to have this pattern, for the Group A racer uses yet another Getrag unit, as found in competition 6-Series cars.

BMW move ahead again when we consider visibility; the high wing on the Cosworth pretty effectively obliterates any sign of following traffic and its headlamps, and could cost you your license.

BMW and Ford both provide good three-quarter rear vision for joining motorways and the forward views are uncluttered, the Sierra having a noticeably raked bonnet.

These cars, of course, are not sold on their accommodation potential, but if they were the Ford would be in a class up from the BMW. The two-inch longer wheelbase translates into extra rear seat room (always appalling on the 3-Series, more so with sports seats). Ford also has the hatchbad load advantage, along with Sierra L folding seats.

BMW could claim that boot accommodation was slightly increased on the M3 because the bootlid line has been raised by over one and a half inches, but That 2nd the ‘glassback’ enlargement and refinement of the M3’s back window are intended purely to help airflow (and the Cd factor quoted) for the rear deck and beep spoiler. Incidentally, these items, and the spoiler, plus the side extensions, are all moulded in polyurethanes that are flawlessly finished to match the deep luster of BMW’s exterior paint.

Looking over the exteriors, the Ford may feel embarrassed. After all, it is ‘only’ a Sierra dressed for a new role, not a purpose-built quality car. Yet the Ford kit of plastic add-on panels appeared sturdy, and that rear wing is necessary to overcome lift at speed.

The Ford’s low wind noise at consistently high speeds confirmed that Ford body panel fit and sealing have improved beyond imagination in recent years. A brand new production Cosworth in black looked particularly attractive and the panel fits were acceptable where those of the long distance mount would not have pleased a customer!

Finally, on a showroom static comparison note, we emphasize BMW have no plans to offer the M3 in right-hand-drive form, or indeed offer it in Britain at all. The £18,500-plus quoted is for a German market model, lacking the sunroof, ICE, electric windows and central locking that come with the right-hand-drive Ford.

Driving the M3 & RS

Only in their surprising and accommodating ride qualities on gas damping (Boge for the BMW; Fichtel & Sachs for Ford), with twin-tube units used for their front MacPherson struts, do the Ford and BMW strike common notes.

This may be because both share semi-traveling arm rear units too (single-tube gas dumped), but when you start to drive hard their paths diverge . . .

The BMW is the best Bavaria has ever produced in the chassis department – and the least like a BMW in engine manners!

Thomas Ammerschlager, late of Ford competitions as well as Audi’s chassis department, headed a team who increased the front end castor on the BMW by a factor of three, remounted its front and rear roll bars and uprated the rear springs. On Pirelli or Uniroyal, road or track, this has resulted in a unique blend of increased grip, tidy rear-end breakaway and outstanding safety.

The M3 understeers gently where a 325i backs and rears in sloppy distress. Its assisted steering, with faster response from a 19.6: I ratio, relays all the vital data right up to four-wheel drifts in circuit use, enabling any driver to be quickly flattered by its immense abilities.

Initially, the Sierra feels just the same good-natured pal. Plumper tyres (225 versus 205), in association with radically seperated suspension, featuring front and rear negative camber angles, allow the Ford to develop even cornering power than the BMW.

Also changed on the Ford is the front all centres (raised by 3.6 inches) with 106lb in springs mated to a beefy front roll bar, having a girth just beyond an inch.

On the road, that’s the end of the story, Ford Special Vehicle Engineering in Essex have done the job and provided a Sierra of occupational gripping capability, whether in straightline acceleration, or in outright cornering power.

In track action the Sierra betrays the standard use of 18 degree raked rear traveling arms, springs beyond 230lb/in and ? technology, including the half-inch null bar. Driven beyond road limits, including mid-corner decelerations, the Sierra gets more untidy than the BMW. This RS demands skilled and fast corrections to keep the tail from slapping to add fro.

Playing a vital role in all this comment are two steering changes which Ford SVE made in the light of Spanish launch criticisms: first they replaced the inner TCA (Track Control Arm) joints with rubber instead of plastic ball joints, and secondly they worked with TRW Cam Gears to remove the rack-and-pinion’s sensitivity around the dead-ahead position.

Confirming the details of this Sierra ‘de-sensitizing’ operation, SVE Manager Mansfield told us, ‘we think the inner units did half the job and we’re going over in the same system on all our 4×4 Sierras and Granadas, the first example having been the Sierra wagon. Given the production opportunity we would also like to alter castor slightly, but that has to be it a present.

The result is a still rapid rack (just 2.63 terms lock-to-lock) but the turning circle cornered a lot worse than the BMW’s in broad use. Ford have also foregone the informative wriggling (a la Piesche 911) of the original. Most customers should love it, but in our confrontation, BMW now get the nod for combining feel and response in their modified steering.

Braking is another dynamic quality that becomes vital in such cars. Here, Ford beat BMW on a slightly firmer pedal action from their Alfred Teves anti-lock system, but lose points for a vibration that developed later in the test.

BMW and Robert Bosch did a marvelous job in re-valving their legendary ABS so that it reacted only to the hardest inputs, but Ford-Teves was just a smidgeon faster, and just as predictable, for road and track use. Both are in the class of racing cars by normal road standards and a pleasurable reassurance in such 145mph-plus machinery!

In less dramatic driving, particularly in everyday road use, we believe Ford has some important advantages.

Firstly, Henry knows more than most about ventilation and heating. Secondly, Ford have a superb gearbox while BMW persist with the racing ‘pose-pattern’. Thirdly, this Ford cruises with an absence of fuss that puts the deliberately short-geared BMW, with its big-bore, four-cylinder engine, at an immediate disadvantage.

We did not expect to comment favorably on Ford engine refinement against a BMW, but even the fabled Bavarians could not overcome the resonances inherent in a four-cylinder layout between 4000rpm and 4500rpm.

At a constant 4500rpm, and the displayed equivalent of 93mph in fifth, the M3 starts to become wearing, BMW Motorsport’s mildly exasperated engineers acknowledged that a great deal of work had gone into the unit – and its exhaust system – in an effort to overcome this shortcoming. We failed to remind them that even Porsche had to go to countershafts on their 2.5-litre four for the 924s/944.

The plus side of this BMW unit (on which development commenced with a ‘cut-up M635/M1 six-cylinder head to see if it would work’) is life between the 4750rpm torque peak and the 7300rpm limit. ‘It’s just so exciting,’ said one tester with plenty of competition miles completed. In contrast the Cosworth-Ford is less dramatic, but generally better mannered, with a smaller (2-litre, smaller bore) resonance at 4000rpm. Above and below that is exceptional cruising peace, with 102mph and 4500rpm being virtually ‘loafing’, and up to 130mph at 5700 in fifth causing no sustained-speed fuss.

Faced by awesome pace and civilized grace at this speed from such an unlikely source as Ford, it is possible to forget BMW’s superior B-road ability.

For the BMW’s bigger engine, lighter weight and gearbox worked in an H-pattern (scoring heavily on the in-line second to third change compared to usual ‘across the gate’ Ford pattern) make the M3 easier to drive rapidly over country roads than the turbo Cosworth. The RS is slowed by its slightly larger dimensions over unknown and bumpy B-roads. Under such conditions it is also noticeable that the BMW has the slightly softer ultimate ride and more ground clearance!

Performance & Economy

Our figures are the usual two-way averages, recorded with our normal computerized fifth-wheel equipment; both cars were measured within an hour of each other and both are measured using the same points on the track.

While our acceleration runs give extremely accurate representations of the performance offered by both companies, we have to concede that a race track does not permit sustained, and therefore measurable, maximum speed runs.

Consequently, both the maximums given here are as observed by Germany’s notoriously strict TUV government inspection board. In this connection it may be worth noting that the 2.3/16 Mercedes can manage an honest 145mph on less power, thanks to a sleeker overall shape than either of our current contestants.

As you can see, both the RS and the M3 outpower the 185bhp Mercedes 2.3/16 Cosworth conclusively with their 6.7 second (Ford) and 6.9 second (BMW) 0-60mph times, the Ford only opening any kind of measurable edge on the BMW in its 0-100mph averages, where it sneaks under the 20 second barrier. The Mercedes returns ‘only’ eight seconds to 60mph, thanks to a 2950lb kerb weight which allows only 140bhp per ton.

It is nice to be able to report that two such fast cars are also responsive to demands for mid-range power. Indeed the 2-litre Sierra RS blows off the M3’s big brother, the 3.5-litre/286bhp M5, between 50 and 70mph in both fourth and fifth! Our records show 5.9/7.1 seconds versus 6.8/9.3 seconds. The M3’s short gearing, however, does allow it an occasional low speed (usually under 50mph) flexibility ‘win’ over the Ford.

Both cars departed from a standing start with over 4500rpm needed to break traction, emphasizing that rear-wheel drive can still handle a lot of power quite capably. In fact we only ever spun the Ford’s wheels on poor surfaces and the uphill hairpin traction in the mountains along our road route was as compelling as the views.

Summary

It has been an exhilarating as well as demanding business bringing a full report on two masterful performance cars from dedicated opponents. BMW had to take the shock of seeing a white Ford materialize on their temporary ‘home patch’ for a full performance session, while Ford lent us a car which they knew was ‘tired’, in the cause of meeting both opposition and deadlines. Furthermore, they were quite co-operative in taking a seven-mile old production machine off the press preparation schedule for our cross-checking drive.

Although the BMWs came complete with engines of uncivilized resonances, there was no doubt that Bayerische Motoren Werke has spent more time (since July 1981 compared to Ford’s April 1983 initial planning meeting), and more money, in making a genuine production car of their project.

BMW plan at least 15,000 copies of the M3 in the next three years, where Ford are likely to make only 5000 of the car tested here, its mechanical components then being likely to find a modified home.

The Ford performs way out of its league; it really could run deep into Europe and back with the Porsche 944T, gaining on handling and fuel economy, losing a few tenths of a second on acceleration and down just 2mph on maximum velocity.

So this Sierra really is something for Ford to shout about. At £15,950 there is no doubt the Sierra RS Cosworth gives exceptional performance and specification value; just don’t expect the quality and refinement of finish and detail engineering that you get from West Germany’s finest.

The BMW? Well, the company have made it pretty clear they don’t have Britain in mind as a sales outlet for this new flier, and few of you, we suspect, would buy left-hand drive. We view this as serious omission by Bavaria, for British customers have supplied considerable profits over the years and obviously don’t mind paying over the odds for an exceptional car.

Realistically, we can only recommend that such custom is given to Mercedes and their right-hand-drive-engineered 2.3/16, with Cosworth ingredients. It was a pioneer in this sector and we don’t honestly think that BMW have taken advantage of their later start to pull and perceptible advantage over the Merc, save the easy option of 200bhp in place of Stuttgart’s 185, which could in any case be rectified on the aftermarket.

If you are a British enthusiast, we don’t think the Sierra will disappoint in any performance role, and it is a natural competitor, for that was how it was conceived. However, if you are the kind of customer who just wants the best quality sports roadgoing saloon money can buy, then smile while paying over £21,000 for the right-hand-drive Mercedes which Stuttgart bothered to make for you!

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This week, I came 199^th in a competition to find the best driver round Germany’s Nurburgring.

What we are talking about here is a performance that could have been bettered by Ray Charles; a performance that was so unutterably awful, no excuse can be accepted. The world now knows what I’ve suspected for some time. I am to driving what Bernard Manning is to Herbalife.

The saga began when the BMW invited someone from the good offices of Performance Car to spend a few days at an annual driving event on what must surely be the world’s greatest race track.

For a host of reasons, none of the proper editorial staff could make it so the offer was passed down through the accounts department, down through the typing pool and down past the man in a shabby overcoat who was enjoying the flavour of a half smoked cigarette butt he’d found in a dustbin outside. Eventually, it landed on my desk.

Organised by a conglomeration of all the European BMW owners’ clubs, the event attracts visitors from as far afield as Norway, California and Wokingham.

The idea is that you spend a week begin coached on the niceties of high speed driving and more importantly, how best to circumnavigate the ‘Ring. You learn the ideal line through every corner, you learn about braking points and where to change gear. You learn about bravery. Well, some people do anyway.

This year, 248 BMW club members descended on the tiny German village of Nurburg in cars, on bikes or in strange plastic things which looked like bladeless helicopters with wheels.

Needless to say, most of the competitors were German, but 22 were from Britain’s BMW Car Club.

And what a crazy assortment they were too. Though they were all wildly different, there was one factor which each had in common with all the others.

None had the typical customer profile that one would normally associate with BMW. None of them lived in South West London. None of them worked in advertising. None of them had a Filofax.

They had a weird assortment of cars, too. There was a 3.2litre CSL Batmobile, and Alpina CSL, a few 325s with steel wheels and wind down windows, a brace of turbocharged B7s, a 2002 turbo driven by a very brave man indeed, an automatic 320 driven by a slightly less brave character and, among other things, a bright red M5 which had been taken there by a curious little man who wore bright green clothes and refused to eat anything.

One youngster who had the dimensions of an elephant turned up without a car on account of the drink driving laws. He wouldn’t have been allowed on the circuit anyway in case the caterpillar on his top lip became a butterfly and put him off.

All week he tried to claim it was a moustache but having watched it closely for some time, I’m inclined to disagree.

Even though I’d been given an M3 for the week, it still took me five hours to reach the ‘Ring from Calais and most of this journey was spent in Belgium; a country where the entire nation does nothing but eat and flatulate.

In England, France and Germany, the M3 attracted envious stares but in Belgium, no-one paid it the slightest bit of attention. One overweight chappie tried to eat the rear spoiler but when he discovered it didn’t contain the required amount of methane, he gave up.

It’s important to stress that I’d taken up the invitation to go because I genuinely thought it would improve my driving. However, various conversations into which I barged on the first night indicated my reasoning was wrong.

Some where there to show everyone just how brilliant they were behind the wheel of a car (or the handlebars of a motorcycle), some, like the elephant man, were there for social reasons, some were there because they enjoy the feeling of being part of a club and some where there out of respect for the Nurburgring circuit itself.

I had heard of it, of course, I knew it was quite long and that Niki Lauda had very nearly met his maker on one of its 187 treacherous bends.

I knew that today’s Formula One namby parnbys are frightened of it and that it is set in some quite pretty countryside.

I was sort of half right. Although the Southern curve has been bulldozed to make way for the characterless Neur circuit round which the 200mph F1 cars now race, the entire Northern loop still exists in all its gyratory, tortuous splendour. It twists and turns and rises and falls for nigh on 14 miles, never running straight and true for more than a few inches at a time.

If the German authorities wished to hold a serious race meeting at the old ‘Ring now, they would need to find 300 marshalls, six helicopters and 20 or so doctors. Plus of course a whoop of hairstylists to keep the tanned drivers happy.

Then they’d need to increase the Armco barriers from two deep to three and, finally bigger run off areas would have to be provided which would mean savaging thousands of acres of pine forest to a degree that not even acid rain can manage.

At present, one only needs hope over the barriers which on occasion are perilously close to the track, and immediately one is shrouded in the eerie silence that’s an integral part of any decent sized wood.

Located 3000 feet above sea level in the Eifel mountains, the surrounding countryside is of a buttock clenching quality but if you really want to make your checks work for a living, you should get a ride round with someone who’s been there before.

The peculiar man in bright green took me round in his M5, an ordeal which demanded a great deal of courage, determination and a plentiful supply of clean underpants.

It seems to go on, like a dreadful fairground ride, for an eternity and I was never quite sure if the funny little man who could barely see over the steering wheel, really did know whether the road went left or right after each brow.

It was with fear and trepidation that I arrived for the first full day’s bullying.

We had been divided up into small groups of 20 or so for the three day training period, the idea being that we would cover one section then move on to another, allowing the people behind to fill our vacant slot, Germans with megaphones in cars with flashing lights policed the scheme so nothing went wrong. Once, I put a foot out of line and learned what it was like to be screamed and flashed at.

Our instructor was a genial expert called Michael Middelhaufe, a BMW test driver who knows the ‘Ring well enough to have given every piece of fauna around its entire length a name. He was notable for two things; his appalling English and his even more appalling shoes.

They were so unusual, I failed to listen to his instructions on our first section, which involved braking hard in a corner and simultaneously missing some cones.

Middelhaufe claimed anti-lock brakes would be a hindrance, which seems to be at odds with what various manufacturers have been ramming down my throat over the past few years.

As I sped towards the corner, it occurred to me that because of his shoes and the distraction they’d caused, I had not listened to what speed I ought to be doing so I slowed down to 80mph which, with hindsight, was still a mite too fast.

If the M3 hadn’t been equipped with anti-lock brakes, I wouldn’t have come to a halt yet. As it was I was damned close to the Czechoslovakian border when serenity returned. It should be said, though, that I didn’t knock anything over except a few megaphone-bedecked marshalls.

Nor did I mangle anything on the slalom but when you consider I was twice as slow as everyone else, this is not surprising.

Things went a little awry on the lane change manoeuvre when I ploughed off the road. You wouldn’t believe me if I said I was hit on the head half way through the exercise by a cassette so I won’t.

Other training outings involved driving a brand new 528i into a barrier for no apparent reason, trying to make a 325i move when its rear wheels were caked in cooking fat, and hurtling round a car park in a Golf with no back wheels.

Frankly, I was most interested in getting to grips with the circuit itself, even though Middelhaufe had said the M3 is ‘a naughty thing’ unlike the M5 which, he claims, is a ‘proper car’.

He was right. You may have recalled elsewhere in this issue that the editor, Mr. Jesse Crosse, manage a fourth place in the Willhire 24 hour race, but I’m afraid I was unable to tame the combination of left-hand drive, a dog-leg gearbox, 200bhp and tyres made by Slumberdown.

In a nutshell, Jesse Crosse knows how to drive fast and well. I don’t.

There are more twists and turns in the Hatzenbach section of the Nurburgring than Silverstone has in its entire length.

And I was given three attempts to get it right. If I had been given 300 attempts, I would still get it wrong for the simple reason that I could not concentrate on where the road went next, where I should be turning in and, most importantly, which gear I should be in on that infernal dog-leg gearbox all at the same time.

Furthermore, I simply daren’t go too fast for fear of crashing. An accident you see would mean I’d get no more BMWs to play with and without BMWs I couldn’t do my job properly. That in turn would mean I’d have to sack my servants that increasing unemployment and therefore allowing Labour to win the next election. Dire, but logical, consequences I’m sure you’ll agree.

The instructor didn’t but I had no more time to de-mystify him because the group behind were champing at the bit.

At the next corner, he showed us the ideal line but I’m afraid I took issue. There followed a lively exchange of views with him asking me if I thought I knew better than Fangio and Stewart and me asking him whether he wanted to know what his terrible shoes tasted like.

The following bend, called Aremberg, was the trickiest piece of road I’d ever seen. You have to fly over the blind brow of a hill, and lift momentarily before turning in to a shallow left-handler much earlier than seems reasonable.

Then you must go hard on the brakes and turn in very, very late for a downhill ninety degree right-hander.

Middelhaufe was struggling to find a more suitable word than valour to describe what a driver needs to do it properly.

‘Balls’, I suggested. ‘Yes’, he said, ‘I want you to show me your balls when you go round here’.

By taking him literally, I ended up missing the apex completely and nearly wrote off BMW’s only press fleet M3.

The training progressed along these lines for three days until I was in such a muddle that I couldn’t sort out which planet I was on, let alone whether I was about to encounter Flugplatz, Hohe Acht or Adenauer Forst.

Certain corners came easily, Brunchen was one which I could take faster than anyone and I had Schwalbenschwanz down to a fine art too because a rather useful lupin (called Steven) was growing at exactly the place where I could let the M3 begin to drift.

Wipperman wasn’t too difficult either though the instructor kept telling me the kerbs were for kissing not bouncing over.

Adenauer Bridge, on the other hand was a pig. Time after time, I went flying around the steepish right-hander before it far too fast so there wasn’t’ a snowball’s chance in hell of someone as uncoordinated as me getting to the other side of the road, braking, studying the gearbox map, executing a change and getting the power on again before the left-hander which followed shortly afterwards.

Over and over again, the instructor explained I ought to slow down, but then part of my problem is that I always know more about everything I’m doing than anyone else. Such outrageous confidence means that I am never nervous before an examination because I’m always utterly convinced I will sail through with flying colours.

Besides, I’ve never really been all that bothered about whether I pass or fail – this is probably why my only qualification is an ____ plus exam in origami.

I wanted to win at the ‘Ring though. It was man and machine versus the greatest circuit in the world and, as a result, the ___wobbles were with me as I lined up on the grid on Saturday morning.

All the instructors, including good old Middelhaufe, were located at strategic points around the circuit and as we drove by they would mark us for correctness of line and speed.

I considered swopping numbers with the oddball in the M5 so they’d think I was him. I considered doing the whole thing in second gear so that it at least sounded like I was going quickly. I considered paying Derek Bell to do it for me but in the end I stood up to the challenge. Nerves of steel.

My spirits were lifted when the poor chap in front of me made two mistakes on the grid. Firstly, he wasn’t in his car when the flag was dropped and secondly, he stalled it on the line.

I think my worst mistake was stopping for a cigarette after the Karussell which sent the attendant marshalls into fits of violent and uncontrollable apoplexy.

Second in the error pecking order was taking a wrong turning and doing two laps of the new circuit and third was the complete pig’s ear I made of the Hatzenback section.

There were other cock-ups too, some of which were my fault, some of which I blamed on my co-driver and map reader, photographer Tim Andrew, and some of which I tried to blame on the car.

The most noteworthy incident was at Schwalbenschwanz where I discovered to my horror that some fool had run over Steven the lupin. Had he been there, I would have drifted nicely over to the other side of the track. As it was I didn’t stop skidding till I was back in Calais docks.

I was totally lost in Metzgesfeld, I suffered from complete brainfade at Bergwerk and while obeying the instructions of instructor Herr Middelhaufe and aiming for Geoffrey the pine tree at the Karusell, I hit a kerb.

All the way round, I looked forward to Brunchen where I would show the judge, a chappie called Fritz Scherb, just how it should be done. Brake hard, back on full power in third, catch the slide, kiss the apex and brush the kerb on the way out.

But sadly a crowd had gathered so I decided to miss out the braking bit. We kissed the apex all right and I held the slide quite well too but to say we brushed the kerb on the way out is an exaggeration. No, it’s more than that. It’s a lie.

We went over the kerb, over the rumble strips and on to the grass where the M3 sorted itself out and rejoined the main track to tumultuous applause from the engrossed assembled throng, who obviously knew a good deal about the finer points of car control.

I had to wait until 11 o’clock that night to discover just how badly I’d done. 17^th out of 22 in the group. 199^th out of 248 overall and I received an award for being the noisiest newcomer.

According to the scoresheet I was nearly perfect at Aremberg, better than average at Metzgesfeld and bloody terrible everywhere else except Kallenhard, where Middelhaufe said I was diabolical.

The weirdo in his M5 took fourth place overall and Jonathan Hooker in the Batmobile was third.

I tried to claim I’d been going so quickly that they couldn’t see where I was on the track properly, that the judges were all bored by the time I made it round and that they were penalising M3 drivers for being rich sons of bitches. I even tried to argue they were getting at me because of my continual references to the war.

Gently, some burly German took me aside, inserted a piece of lingerie in my mouth and explained that I’d come 199^th because I was the 199^th best driver.

I haven’t cried so much since Bambi’s mother was shot.

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For the M3 team, the nitty gritty had started a couple of weeks before with a practice session at Snetterton to try the aluminum long range fuel tank and set the car up for the heavy fuel load it would  have to carry. Working on the premise that one gallon of fuel weighs 7.5lb, it is obvious that the 25 gallon maximum fuel load allowed can play havoc with the handling of a saloon car. First attempts with the M3, when the tank proceeded to leak like sieve, were not encouraging. M3 chief mechanic Paddy Gibson swore under his breath as well as on top of it, while ladling out gallons of the lethal golden fluid from the boot of the car, and muttering something about bag tanks.

The Sierra meanwhile was undergoing basic training, or rather its crew was. The big endurance racing tank was still to be fitted so this was merely a shake down for drivers. The day was also a press day, and regular driver Morgan gave Jeremy Walton a run round the circuit to demonstrate how things should be done in a car graced with inherent understeer followed by power oversteer, plus a little turbo lag into bargain. Walton found it interesting (the circuit was damp) and emerged white faced and a lot wiser having experience a couple of high speed spins, form the passenger seat.

All character building stuff.

Meanwhile, work with the M3 progressed, holes were bunged up, tyres were swapped and testing continued. McHale and Sands comfortably managed to lap in the one minute 24 second bracket with a third fuel load. Somehow, I couldn’t manage better than 1:25.4 and ended the day depressed. The car, though, was tidy in the extreme at that speed, never touching a kerb, never crashing over run off strips, which damages the bearings, and never having to endure heavy braking. It was the last point that would finally work to our advantage.

At the end of the day, the M3 went back to have the tank modified and undergo a rethink, while the Sierra returned to its Mallory Park stable for final endurance preparations. The team would have to test the big tank on Friday 19 June, the day before the race.

A week later, the ‘phone rang and Sands announced that we were booked in to test the M3 again on Thursday 18. This we duly did and it proved to be something of a saving grace. In the meantime the car had been on the rolling road at Steve McHale’s company, Machtech Tuning, had had the dampers reset to soften it up and more Pirelli P600s had been buffed down to the three millimetres tread depth needed for production racing.

By Thursday evening work and testing on the M3 was complete and we put it back in its box. Retuning the injection had given us about 14mpg instead of eight, while the Cosworth Sierras could reckon on between four and six mpg. But many teams hadn’t even arrived at that point, and were counting on using the Friday to accomplish the final setting up and the important calculation of fuel consumption, which helps the team plan the number of routine stops necessary.

Our strategy in the M3 was to go easy on the braking, starting at 180 yards minimum at the end of Snetterton’s Revett Straight, and thereby help to reduce pit stops to a minimum. We knew that the Sierras would have to stop much more regularly for fuel and brakes, and that would be a handicap. In truth, nobody seriously expected any of the Cosworths to last the distance anyway, but the possibility had to be accounted for.

The Class B BMW was probably giving away around 70bhp to the Class A Sierra Cosworths. Paddy Gibson was expecting to change brake pads, (the new Mintex M200s) every second stop. Little did he know what the future would bring. The TCCS team had decided to go ahead of use their brakes to the full, glazing them if necessary.

The Preliminaries

Friday 19 June was wet, and just 24 hours before the start. It was so wet that the A11 became seriously flooded and Snetterton Circuit not much better. A sweeping and sucking truck trundled round and round the track as teams sat in caravans, tents or motorhomes and sulked. Some of the pits had mini-torrents rushing through them, and the outlook was grim. Those who had counted on checking fuel consumption and full fuel load handling at the last minute were in trouble. There would be little happening today.

Official qualifying, set for between 4:30pm and 6:00pm, was cancelled as the sky became blacker and the organisers decided to include the period with the night qualifying session instead.

The pit lane was a dramatic sight that night, enough to send a rush of adrenalin surging through the most distinterested of souls. A tangle of pipes and air lines, dangling like huge telephone cables from hastily erected gantries. Refuelling crews standing by, eerily dressed, or so it seemed in the half light, in flame-proof garb similar to that worn by the drivers themselves, but minus the helmets. There was shouting and general hubbub, broken by the occasional wobbling scream of pneumatic power tools as wheels were hastily changed. Orders were barked, engines rumbled into life and kicked with expectant blasts of power, while drivers impatiently prodded at throttles. People were anxious to get on with the job.

Further along the row of gleaming cars and equipment our other car, in which Jeremy Walton would do his level best, waited too. It was the Sierra Cosworth prepared by TCCS Racing, one of seven in the race, and driven by regular driver Dave Morgan. This weekend he would share it with Jeremy, Sean Brown (a Uniroyal Saloon Car championship regular) and Rod Birley, another well known saloon car exponent.

At 10:30pm we all arrived expectantly at our soggy garage. I would go first, trundle round as safely as possible, get out and go to bed. This I did, and the conditions were horrible. We were supposed to have until midnight, but I completed four laps or so in times around 1:43 and stopped without further ado. McHale and Sands stayed longer and got down to 1:38, giving us a very modest position more than halfway down the grid. Making a big effort at good grid positions, thereby risking the car, is actually a waste of time when in terms of distance, the difference between our time and that of the fastest cars was worth a few yards. The total race distance would be nearly 2000 miles….

Under Starters’ Orders

The big day, Saturday 20 June. Picking at breakfast, bats in the stomach, searching for supplies of extra strong mints and a place where it wasn’t raining.

M3 team manager, Jeremy Nightingale, explained in his best team manager’s voice, ‘I don’t want it cool, and I don’t want it wet.’

This was because cool air favours the powerful turbo cars which we were hoping would break down, and the wet favours the front-wheel-drive cars.

It looked as though we would get away with it after all, and I for one wasn’t sorry. We had sorted out the driving stints the day before, Sands would lead off, I would run second, and McHale third. Sands and McHale would alternate during the night and we would play it by ear on Sunday.

We were ready for it. We had all sat around a lot over the last couple of days; all, that is, except: Gibson and his crew who had continued to work on the M3.

Our Sierra pit had been hard at it too. They had more to do, having started later, and set fire to a rear brake when the calliper seized during the midday warm-up session prior to the race.

By 3:30pm, the pits were alive with activity. Pit crews stood by their refuelling towers, and the racing system shifted into top gear.

With ten minutes to go drivers started getting organised. Easing into bucket seats, hauling legs over those parts of the roll cage that cross the door opening, pulling four- or six-point racing harnesses tightly over hips and shoulders, and tugging insulating balaclavas over heads.

The scenario was almost complete, and for most drivers it was time to compose the mind and concentrate on what would happen in the next few minutes. Sands and Morgan would start our M3 and Cosworth respectively, a start that would commence behind a pace car. Warm up races had whetted the appetite of a large crowd and the circuit was packed by the time the green and white Sierra Cosworth course car with its orange flashing lights pulled into the pit lane, unleashing the pack that snapped impatiently at its heels.

There was a roar.

The racers were in close company, jostling through Russell, the ‘S’ bend at the beginning of the start/finish straight, weaving and feinting to gain an advantage. The race was on.

The M3 was lying 14^th after the first hour – the Sierra fourth. Sierras occupied the first four places. In 24 hours time, they would occupy the first three.

As 6.37, Morgan was called in for fuel, brakes, tyre check, and the fitting of Jeremy Walton into the driver’s seat. Jeremy Walton into the driver’s seat. Jeremy left the pit lane three minutes later.

At 6.59pm, the BMW slid neatly into its pit with a puff of smoke from the brakes. The fuelling crew leaped to the rear of the car, one man with his arms wrapped around a large fuel tank venting bottle, the other carrying the four-inch pipe from the fuelling tower. Boot open, aircraft fuelling pipe clicked into place on one nozzle while the vent bottle clicked onto the other. 25 gallons of fuel go in in a matter of seconds. Sands jumped out of the car, wet with perspiration, and I got in.

It started to rain.

Leaving the pit lane slowly and carefully, I slotted into the general mayhem on the circuit. The brakes were cold and didn’t work at all. It started to rain on Riches, a fourth gear right hander, and a little on Coram at the other end of the circuit. It was a mess, and very difficult to settle down. Part of the circuit quickly became slippery, part of it stayed dry, and part of it felt like an ice rink. Into Riches the second time around and I could see the water glistening on the track’s surface, but it was too late. Turning in gingerly, the M3 slithered around helplessly. Hatchbacks buzzed around its hind quarters like a swarm of angry bees going for the kill. I was going so slowly I couldn’t get out of my own way. I was embarrassing.

Soon it started to dry though and I started to settle. Hatchbacks slid into view as the M3 overhauled them. Walton was there too. He was flying round in fourth position when a fuse blew, leaving the powerful Cosworth powerless on the right of the track at the start of Revett straight. I watched his attempts to get the beast started, aware of the crushing disappointment he and the whole team must have been feeling. Any outside assistance over and above advice would mean disqualifications. Outside assistance in the form of returning the leading Cosworth to the fray after it had ploughed into the field at the end of the straight early on Saturday night was not apparently an infringement.

The sun was setting and the evening promised better weather.

The BMW and I were plugging around at a steady 1:26, 1:25, and at that pace I was able to keep the car very smooth and trim. No kerbs, no drama and not much mixing it with some of the loonies who thought they were doing a ten lap sprint. I was being careful with the brakes too, having been slapped on the wrists for glazing the pads in practice the day before.

Despite a pace that was a little conservative compared to that of my two partners, the race bulletins showed that the M3 was holding onto the class lead it held when I took it over, and to seventh position overall. And it wasn’t getting worn out.

The Driving

The lap times we were doing translate to about 81mph average speed, while the leading Cosworth was managing around 84mph. The start/finish straight is taken in fourth the four-cylinder BMW engine howls up to nearly 7000rpm before it is necessary to ease onto the brakes just before the surface changes.

There’s no room for error in the first bend, Riches, despite the flat field beyond. Easing back onto the power, just missing the first of two apexes, brings you into the second, clipping it, then sliding gently to the exit. Then up rushes Sear, a 90 degree corner with a wide but bumpy runoff for the over-exuberant. The biggest danger is locking up here, you always find you’re entering Sear faster than you think, but the ABS helps a lot and avoids accidental flat-spotting of the tyres.

Ease on the power again, and the M3 will slide neutrally then oversteer away from the bend. It’s more twitchy with a lighter fuel load and too much power has you oversteering more and scrubbing off speed. Then it’s flat down the Revett straight towards the Esses, slip-streaming others, and being overhauled by the faster Cosworths. Into fifth at 6500rpm and into the braking area at the 200 yard board. Heel and toe down into fourth, and turn into the long, feathered-throttle left hander, easing on the power towards the end of it then on the brakes and quickly into third and into the tight right hander, sliding through with maybe a touch of oversteer at the exit.

Back up into fourth early, at about 6000rpm, and then into the ‘Bombhole’ a right hander with a huge dip at the apex, power through to the kerb at the exit, then start a gentle approach curve into the long right hander that is Coram Curve. Clip the apex about halfway round and let the car run wide to the edge of the track, flat out again by now, and pulling the car to the right on the downhill leg to the left right kink that is Russell, the most dangerous corner on the circuit. It is dangerous because losing it on the left hand entry of the ‘S’ can put you in the wall at the exit. At the same time, Russell is crucial to overall lap times and must be taken as quickly as possible….

Do that another 130 times and you have a three-hour stint in the box. I finished my one and only session with the M3 still holding the class lead and still seventh overall.

When I handed over to McHale, Gibson was elated to find we still needed no new brake pads. Gentle handling was starting to pay off.

Steve McHale drove an excellent stint and pushed the M3 up to fourth place. He and Bob Sands alternated in the car from then to the end, and the position remained the same, except for climbing officially to third overall after 12 hours (although at the time, the compute had us in second position).

The Sierra meanwhile hadn’t fared so well and had been plagued by mechanical and electrical problems. After the first five hours, it had dropped to 50^th place, last on the road, through breakdowns, despite putting in competitive times.

Jeremy Walton summed up the traumas of his own race.

‘Wearing a Sparco four-layer Nomex suit, I was fastened into the brilliant red Sabelt harness on the Corbeau competition bucket seat. All around me was the security of a comprehensive steel cage. Ahead, the Mountune 2.0litre Ford Cosworth engine growled dangerously through its short side exhaust.

Finally, the row of marshalls parted, allowing me into the chaos of Snetterton’s pit lane.

I had had more than enough of pre-event testing: maximum boost, sticky R1 BF Goodrich tyres, empty tank, warm sunshine, only to switch to low (legal) boost, heavily treaded BFG Comp TA2s and a heavy fuel load for the short-lived official practice and the actual race. But it was worth it and the car was never anything but fast, friendly, and satisfying. The only real thing to watch was the way in which a naturally understeering chassis has to be balanced against power oversteer, and the turbo lag involved in the process.

During the closing hours of the race, the powerful motor still hurled us onto the straights with enough power to swap ends easily. The Sierra shot past all but the toughest Cosworth competitors.

Piling into the long right hander, Coram Curve, among a gaggle of other race track residents, from the tiny Suzuki Swift GT is to fellow “Cosworthians”, I had time to appreciate the footrest the TCCS lads had fitted since testing. This I could use to help brace my body against the 100mph cornering loads that resulted from flying around the track.

From inside the car there was a grandstand view of wheel-lifting, squabbling front-wheel-drive hatches, and the battles between wheel locking Cosworth, leaving tyre haze, exhaust fumes and turbo-flames in their wake. It was worth all the hassle.

My education was completed out there. All those “I keep it completely smooth Jeremy, never touch a kerb, forget about opposite lock”, advisors of the pit lane had turned into frenzied killers. Could these be the same pundits currently occupying the track in front of me, their four wheels straddling the low kerbs and sparks flying from distressed underparts? You bet!

From a driver’s point of view, the first stint was the most satisfying, before the electrical interruptions of course.

The following morning’s session consisted of two hours at the wheel of a very tired Ford which by then had suffered several more dramas.

There was still the satisfaction of that seductive straight line speed though (an indicated 135mph), and trying to get round the endless t-circuit of right handers without melting the tyres.

My lasting memories are not of the eventual disappointments of the race, but of the thrills of balancing 2.0litre turbo power against straining BF Goodrich Comp TAs in the company of a bunch of equally deranged individuals.

My Results

Our two cars ended up at opposite ends of the race. The M3 won Class ‘B’, and took a spectacular fourth overall, in front of the fifth placed Mercedes 190/2.3 16 of Fagan and Dowsett, and the sixth placed Escort of Jones and Watts. We were beaten only by three Cosworths, including the winning car of Rob Gravett whose entire tears deserves hearty congratulations for a truly phenomenal performance.

The BMW hadn’t missed a beat. But the most impressive part of the tale was that it finished the race on the same set of Mintex M200 brake pads that it had started with. The front pads had worn from a maximum thickness of 13mm down to 11mm and 9mmm, while the rears had only used 1mm each! Compare that with teams who had got through over ten sets of morning and you have an idea of the achievement.

Sadly, the Sierra finished last, but through reliability problems rather than the speed of its drivers, who were among the quickest. Overall, only one Cosworth failed to finish, and that was crashed.

We look forward to the return match.

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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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