By naterisch
12/22/2014
As I wrote several weeks ago, one of the things that allowed me to purchase the ’79 Euro 635CSi at a price I could afford was the curious choice that the previous owner made to spend money on things such as refinished vintage BBS RA wheels—while leaving unresolved such problems as a leaky gas tank. The tipping point in the purchase came when he agreed to sell me the car without the wheels; I literally had to show up with another set and swap them in his garage. Of course, I was trading away something cool and shiny, and accepting something rusty and leaky.
By naterisch
12/15/2014
I have never gazed upon Santa’s sleigh, but I’ll bet that if I were given time to scrutinize its magical flanks, an M-badge would be proudly displayed somewhere on there. And I reckon that if Santa could bestow gifts upon himself, they would bear the letters B, M, and W. Surely Old Saint Nick could use something to make his sled more aerodynamic, maybe add an edge of aggression, or at least spruce up the interior. There might even be enough new gadgets, vehicles, and accessories for twelve days of gifts…
By naterisch
12/15/2014
Having replaced the broken rear springs and useless shocks in the 325XiT wagon, I could now dive into the Z3’s cooling system, replacing its sticky thermostat and seeing what else it needed to make it a reliable winter driver. Or, now that I’d brought the Shark (the ’79 Euro 635CSi) home and cleared out garage space for it—through a ridiculous number of machinations—I could begin sorting it out.
By naterisch
12/08/2014
The great geniuses at BMW must be Grateful Dead fans—and if they’re not, I’m going to continue to believe that they are. Recently my life turned upside down (my own fault), and I found myself with a commute twice as long, mileage-wise, as I’d been used to, but about the same length time-wise. How does this work out, you may ask? Simple: traffic lights, zillions of them, it seems, and they’re all there to slow you down.
By naterisch
12/08/2014
Last week I revealed that I, your intrepid Hack Mechanic, owner of nearly 60 BMWs since 1982, will start the first new job I’ve had in 30 years, and will begin commuting to Bentley Publishers in Cambridge. Driving, apparently, a beat-up 2000 Suburban.

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