328i – 102,245 miles – The transformation

It had to happen sometime. Every morning I looked out into the driveway to see two relatively late model BMWs, ready to whisk the Incredibly Understanding Wife or me to parts unknown with speed, poise and comfort. For a short time, I was pleased. I was proud. I was a responsible man, and it was good.

Slowly, over the course of at least three or four days, that responsibility transformed from a badge of pride to a yoke of obligation. I was teetering on the precipice edge: one tiny misstep, one missed oil change, and my once calm life would come crashing down. The wheels might very literally fall off, and I would be once again left with unreliable cars. The proverbial other shoe was hanging just out of sight, ready to drop at any moment.

I couldn’t wait for destiny. I had to intervene.

I killed it. I gutted the 328i while it was still warm. Out came the comfortable yet sporty springs and shocks, the resilient but quiet rubber bushings front and rear, the silent but powerful brakes, the economy-enhancing differential, the luxurious electronically adjustable leather seats, the selfless airbag and leather-wrapped steering wheel, all of it gone and spread on the floor of the workshop like wasted giblets from a fat holiday bird.

And there it sat, propped on the lift, parts all a-dangle. I shut off the torch, and inhaled a deep breath of burning bushings. I smeared the grease and dirt from my forehead with a sweaty forearm and surveyed the carnage.

The 328i, sport sedan. A car barely alive. Gentlemen, I would rebuild it. I had the technology. I had the capability to build my third ridiculously uncomfortable car. The 328i will be that car. More uncomfortable than it was before. More uncomfortable, stronger, faster.

In went the ground control “springs” (so stiff they could hardly be called springs) and Konis. In went plates to adjust camber and caster so as to wear my tires to the cords at least twice a day. In went bushings hewn apparently from pure diamond and marble. In went a new 3.15 limited slip differential. In went brakes loud and squeally enough to shame a train. In went a small, dished Momo steering wheel and torturous fixed-back lightweight Momo seats.

The car is incredible. The limits have been raised exponentially. As has road noise, vibration, harshness, and general crappiness. With one day’s work, I flung the yoke of obligation from my shoulders and once again roam free: a gearhead idiot on the prowl for more perfectly good cars to ruin in the name of speed.

Lock your garages. I am mad.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, January 18th, 2006 at 12:47 pm and is filed under Cars, Vehicles, e36 328i. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.