A Tale Of Eight Radiators

Rob Siegel: The Hack Mechanic.

We all choose when to open the floodgates and spend money like water, and when to close them to become flinty stewards of our dollars. With car parts, there are times when I will spend absolutely ridiculous sums, and other times when I will find some kluge or used part to help me hold on to my hard-earned Benjamins.

But man, I hate it when, having been cost-conscious, I see the whole thing go south and I need to spend money again on the same thing.

Cooling systems have been particularly vexing to me of late. Any car you need to depend on—a daily-driver you commute in or a vintage car you wish to distance-drive to events—will need to have a dependable cooling system. Old BMWs, like all vintage cars, have all-metal radiators; compared with modern BMWs whose cooling systems have plastic radiator tanks, plastic expansion tanks, plastic thermostat housings, and plastic hose ends, this is a comfort: All-metal radiators are unlikely to fail suddenly and catastrophically in the way that plastic cooling-system components can. However, they do get old, plug up, and lose the ability to cool the engine. Many people, myself included, put in a cooler thermostat, replacing the original 80ºC unit with a 71º. However, this really doesn’t do much, as the problem isn’t that the thermostat isn’t opening up; the problem is that as the air temperature creeps up, the radiator doesn’t have the capacity to dump the heat.

The good news is that you can get metal radiators rodded out and/or recored. The bad news is that it ain’t cheap.

When I bought my ’72 2002tii about two years ago, it ran a bit hot around town. Its radiator looked like it had been in the car since the 1980s. As I’ve talked about in Roundel, I’d just sorted out the cooling system in my 3.0CSi, and had ordered a custom thin-triple-core radiator—three cores in the space of two—that solved every cooling problem the 3.0 had. So I was excited to yank out Radiator #1 from the tii and order a thin-triple (Radiator #2) from the guy who sold me the triple for the 3.0.

Unfortunately, he went out of business—taking my money (and other people’s) with him.

Having just paid and lost nearly four hundred bucks, I looked on the cheap side of town. I found a used triple-core (Radiator #3) for $150 on eBay from a seller with whom I’d had good experiences. But it was a “fat triple,” not a thin one, and when I installed it, I found that my fan ticked it on the right side. I was aware that my tii had been hit and had its nose replaced sometime in the distant past, but it turned out that the nose was now ever-so-slightly cocked to the right. I was literally about to whack the inner nose skin with a hammer to gain the needed quarter-inch of clearance when I thought, “New rule: Whenever you’re about to hit your car with a hammer, stop and think about it first.”

I wrote about this in a Roundel piece (“Putting The Hammer Down”), but what I didn’t say was that, with the calmness and Zen that accompanies a cooling-off period, and appropriate circumspection, I did not hit the nose with a hammer. I put a hockey puck against the nose and hit the hockey puck with a hammer—and this eked out the space I needed.

I drove the car with the barely-fitting used triple for about a year. It ran about the middle of the gauge, but I wasn’t driving it in weather that was all that hot, so I really didn’t know how it would behave in stinky heat.

Several months ago I drove the tii 3,140 miles and back to MidAmerica 02Fest in Arkansas. As I headed into southern climes, the temp gauge crept close to two-thirds—not enough to make you stop so you won’t risk cracking the head, but hot enough to make you watch the gauge like a hawk. So when I got back home, I resolved to fix the radiator problem once and for all. I made some phone calls to local radiator shops to get estimates for a custom triple-core, and was quoted $450, with the almost apologetic explanation that the price of copper is very high.
I hesitated.

Taking a step back, there are six basic choices for a 2002 radiator. As with any rad, you can take yours into a radiator shop and have it pressure-tested and rodded out (unsolder the top tank, physically insert a thin rod down each of the cooling tubes, and flush them). Around Boston, this costs about $100. Maybe it’ll help, maybe it won’t. My rule of thumb is that if the radiator visually appears perfect—no corrosion, no damaged fins—I’ll give it a try, but if I see anything amiss, it’s likely throwing good money after bad.

The second option is to buy an original radiator, Part Number 17 11 1 115 755, from the dealer. But the list price is over $500. Depending on the discount offered, the price can get down to under $400—still not cheap. Certainly any new radiator is going to cool better than an old, corroded plugged-up one, but if you’re going to drop this kind of coin, many folks look at the third option: having the radiator recored with a custom triple. But, as said above, this ain’t cheap, either.

Which leads to the fourth option.

A common and inexpensive procedure is to use a late 320i radiator with an aluminum core. These cost about half what you’d pay for a new 2002 radiator. However, there are four issues: The 320i radiator is wider, requiring you to drill new holes in the nose. The mounting tabs are on the back, not the front, of the radiator, necessitating the use of spacers or threaded standoffs instead of the 2002 radiator’s simple 10-mm hex-head screws. And the lower radiator hose is different, because the power port exits to the side instead of to the front.

But the most off-putting thing, at least to me, is that the late 320i radiator has plastic top and bottom tanks. To introduce plastic into the cooling system of a vintage car seems like having plastic surgery to install acne and shingles. I. Just. Can’t. Do. It.

However, a related option—we’ll call it 4B for those of us who have the need to keep the enumeration straight—is an all-metal 320i radiator. We folks who post on www.bmw2002faq.com discovered the Canadian-made Spectra CU759 radiator. These are so inexpensive—about $130 on Amazon—that I thought I’d give one a try as radiator #4.

There are a couple of minor issues. The radiator is meant for an automatic, so it has two fittings on the bottom of the tank to connect the transmission-fluid lines. They don’t leak antifreeze—it’s a separate part of the tank—but you should cap them to keep moisture out. And although it’s an all-metal radiator, the metal is lighter than that of an original 2002 radiator. And, as with the aluminum-and-plastic radiator, you still need to drill new holes. I’ve violated many 2002s over the past 30 years, and I now only drill holes if there’s no other option.

As it happened, I was working on a friend’s car whose nose had already been drilled for a 320i plastic radiator, and the car’s radiator needed replacement, so I donated the Spectra to the cause.

The fifth option is to buy an all-aluminum radiator: aluminum core, aluminum top and bottom tanks. Ireland Engineering sells a beautiful unit for $325. The radiator is thick, however, and some folks report having to delete the mechanical cooling fan and replace it with an electric pusher in front of the radiator in order to gain enough clearance.

Personally, I think aluminum radiators look at home under the hood of highly-modified cars—polished valve cover, dual Webers, etc—but on largely stock cars like my tii, I’m sensitive to things that look like they time-traveled in from another decade.

The sixth option is to adapt a radiator from another car. This is not terribly common anymore, but back in the day, Roundel ran articles about using Pinto radiators, presumably flame-annealed from when their gas tanks exploded.

Then, one Sunday morning, something happened that caused me to stop futzing around and commit to buying a damn radiator. After using the tii to run down to the store to buy cereal, I noticed drops of antifreeze beneath the car. I investigated the source, and found that the coolant tank on the top of the radiator had developed a hairline crack and was weeping coolant. I’d driven the tii perhaps 30 miles since returning from MidAmerica 02Fest. Talk about luck!

Some friends cued me in to other options for the original radiator—call them 2B and 2C—for lower cost than at U.S. BMW dealers. Matt Pickering bought a radiator directly from Walloth und Nesch, a German company that sells all manner of parts for vintage BMWs. Their web site (www.wallothnesch.com) is deep and dense, and I found part number A17111102621, which they described as a “radiator with high cooling rate—with original dimensions (exchangeable with standard radiator for 1502—2002 ti)—fits for all models—especially for cars with cooling problems or high-performance engines or race activities—approx. 50% higher cooling rate than standard radiator for 1502—2002ti, approx. 20% higher cooling rate than tropical/tii radiator, made in Germany in original look.”

Another friend, Scott Sislane, bought a radiator from the British company Jaymic, and when it arrived, it was the high-efficiency radiator in a Walloth und Nesch box, so clearly that’s where it had been sourced.

I called Jaymic and asked about choices for radiators. I spoke with a woman named Fay with a lovely British accent. (Of course, that’s redundant. I’m American; All British accents are lovely.)

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Rob Siegel.”

“Oh!” she said. “I’m reading your book! You’re like the American version of my dad!” (You have to understand that her dad is Mike Macartney, owner of Jaymic, and author of The BMW 02 Restoration Guide, so this was no small compliment.) In the end, I ordered Radiator #5—the W&N high-efficiency radiator—through Jaymic, shipped, for $350. It may have been slightly cheaper ordered directly through W&N, but after a comment like that, you think I’m going to shop elsewhere to save ten bucks?

The radiator arrived. It was beautiful. I installed it.

There was a problem.

My tii is air-conditioned. On later 02 radiators, the port at the bottom of the radiator is angled upward, allowing for ample clearance of the lower radiator hose on a/c-equipped cars. On early 2002s, however, the lower port exits the bottom of the radiator pointing straight back. (And just to complete the discussion, on 320i radiators, the lower port exists to the right). Unfortunately, the W&N radiator was of the early style, with the power port pointing straight back. Thus some degree of creativity with the lower hose was required.

There are many threads on bmw2002faq about this. I found one from Mike Self himself saying that an early radiator with a straight-back port will work with an air-conditioned car; you just need to use the original early L-shaped radiator hose. I didn’t have one, but I did have a spare L-shaped hose for the thermostat-to-temperature-sensor housing. With some trimming, I got it all to fit.

So now I have a radiator I can believe in, a radiator that will keep the car cool, five radiators and—I can’t say it without gacking—over a thousand dollars later. (I know. Just shoot me; shoot me now. I said to Maire Anne “Why do I keep doing this? Why? WHY?” She said, “Because most of the time, it actually works out for you.” God, I love this woman.)

The amazing thing is that I had to go through the same thing again with the Bav.

As you’ll read in next month’s Roundel, I bought a ’72 Bavaria. Not surprisingly, its cooling system needed attention. I took the radiator (#6, if you’re counting) to a shop for rodding out, and the shop owner pointed out over a dozen pinhole leaks. Okay, we’re not going to do that.

Mindful of the experience with the tii, I thought I might as well bite the bullet and order the triple-core. Then the radiator shop called me and told me that their original quote of $450 was wrong; it would be six hundred dollars. (“Copper is very expensive these days,” they said. You think? Maybe I should sell the tii and invest in copper.)

I put out the word on www.E9coupe.com that I needed a radiator (E3s and E9s use the same one). A poster offered to sell me an aluminum radiator he wasn’t using. As I said, aluminum isn’t really my thing, but the price was right, so I bought it. Weeks went by and the aluminum radiator didn’t arrive. I didn’t want to bug the guy, as he was doing me a favor.

And then I saw a used E3/E9 triple-core radiator on eBay for $100 starting bid, $25 to ship. Don’t do it, I thought, you’ve been down this road before.

But I was the only bidder, and for $125, the triple-core radiator (#7) of dubious provenance was mine. I put it in the Bavaria, fully expecting to remove it and then beat myself in the head with it to remind myself never to spend a dollar on a used radiator again, but to my stunned surprise, it cooled the car so well that, on a 90º day, the temperature didn’t go past one-third of the way up the gauge. It ran so cool that I removed the 71ºC thermostat and put the 80º back in.

And then, of course, the new aluminum radiator (#8) arrived.

I regard it as insurance. Plus, you never know when I’ll get another E3 or E9.

So go ahead, ask me about 2002 radiators. But if you e-mail me saying, “What do you think about this cheap used radiator on eBay?” make sure the kids aren’t in the room when you read the response.—Rob Siegel

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Rob's book Memoirs of a Hack Mechanic is available through Bentley Publishers, Amazon, and Bavarian Autosport—or you can get a personally inscribed copy through Rob's website: www.robsiegel.com.