<WOB, long> The Ultimate Drive

["Eric P. McCoy" <emccoy@xxxxxxxxxxxx>]

Well, I went out for my drive of a new M Roadster last Thursday down at
New Country Motor Cars in Hartford, CT.  I was *way* too excited to
enjoy rush-hour traffic, but I managed to get down the Hartford in one
piece.

Once there, I registered and was told, "Oh, yeah, you're registered for
the M Roadster."  I started nodding and grinning when he said,
"Unfortunately, it's been wrecked."  My mouth dropped open - I couldn't
imagine who'd do such a thing! My mother asked if it had been done
there, but apparently it happened somewhere between NJ and Hartford.

Right after that, when my mother was registering, she suddenly decided
*not* to drive the 750iL.  I admit that she had reason - our dog (an
Irish Wolfhound) had stepped on her face the previous night and it had
bent her bifocals to the point of giving her a headache - but, now that
the M-car was out, I was looking forward to the 750 even more than
before.

Glumly, I asked the kid at the desk what else there was with a
stick-shift.  He told me there was basically a 318ti and "a 323."  Upon
asking if the 323 was one of the new 3-series, even *that* hope was
shattered.  It seemed my best bet was an automatic 328i.

As I was waiting for the 328 to get back (got there *very* early), I
started to think a little bit.  "I didn't come here just to drive an
M-car.  I came here to have fun driving a new BMW.  I mean, if I can get
by with my *528e* with an *automatic transmission*, then I should be
able to have fun with *anything* here!"  ("Well, maybe not the 318ti. 
It's cute, but I don't drive cute cars.") 
(I also rememberd that, despite the name, the 323 has a 2.5L engine.) 
So I went up and changed "my" car to "the 323" and started waiting
again.

At about 4:50, the previous round started trickling in.  First came a
540i, then a 740iL.  After that, the 318ti came back, followed quickly
by the 328iC I'd turned down.  Finally, all the rest of the cars came
back in a bunch - the last one my 323.  Which, to my extreme surprise
and delight, was a cabriolet!

I started ogling the car, leaning so far over it that I may as well have
climbed in, and making appropriate gushing noises until the kid handing
out keys came over.  He took one look at my face and said, "You can take
this one."  This had the effect of heightening my anticipation still
further and driving away the people who were looking at *my* car. 
(Jealously, I'd like to point out.)

I piled in, and he asked me if I was familiar with the car.  "Well, I
own a BMW, but I'm not sure how much you've changed in ten years."  The
guy took this to mean "yes," so he just told me how to operate the top
(it looked like it might rain).  He might've said some other things, but
to be honest, I wasn't paying any attention at all.  I think he sensed
that and left to let me figure it out on my own.

The first thing I noticed about the car was that it was *small*.  Not
just, "Oh, it's a nice little car."  But rather, "When the seat's moved
back so that the wheel's at a normal distance, I can't reach the
pedals."  I also thought, a little worriedly, that if I had to stop
suddenly I'd split my head open on the top of the windshield, which was
about 2" in front of my forehead.

Those concerns quickly vanished when I started the car.  I worked the
gearshift a couple of times, 'cause I didn't want to screw up (on my
Porsche, the last stick I drove regularly, reverse is right-up, first
just below it) and blow the engine, and then gave it a little gas.  Then
immediately backed off when the tach tore up to 3500rpm.  Apparently, a
little finer control is called for on this car than on my 528e.

Well, finer control (read: only 2000rpm this time) resulted in almost
stalling the car, because the clutch is *damn* high up.  The last stick
I drove was a Saab, which should be all the explanation necessary for
anyone else who's driven a Saab, and my Porsche was almost the same
way.  It took a lot of effort to keep from easing the clutch back from
the wall and then banging it out the rest of the way.

Well, I finally got out of the parking lot, also noticing that the
brakes were excellent.  (No adjustment there; the first rough stop was
the only one.)  My mother (who was with me in lieu of a dealer) started
reading directions, and I turned onto the main road just outside the
dealer.  As I gently eased the gas pedal down to pass a car in the right
lane, I heard a very nice sound: the engine whipping effortlessly up to
speed.  For a few seconds, it was just Me and the Car as I flew through
the gears.  My mother's insistent voice ("Eric, slow down!  You're doing
70 in a 35!") brought me back to reality in time to make our turn (at
about the speed limit), although we did manage to miss the onramp to 91N
and had to turn around at the police station.  (I managed to run the
stop sign in front of the station as three cops watched me lug the car
in 2nd through the turn.)

Traffic on 91 was terrible, so I didn't have much opportunity for fun. 
I did, however, get the car up to 90, which says more for the pickup of
the car than the open spaces in traffic.

We exited into a pretty small town, still following the directions.  My
mom said, "Stay on this road for 8 miles," so I just sat back and
adopted a more philosophical view (e.g., "I won't be behind this cement
truck forever; in eight miles, there's *gotta* be at least one passing
zone I can use").  The truck did, indeed, turn off (although I stalled
the car when I tried to get going again, much to my embarrassment), but
when we got to the light, we noticed something wrong: this was our turn,
but it hadn't been eight miles.  I'd been keeping track by the odometer,
which the BMW guy had thoughtfully told me to reset.  (If I'd been
thinking about anything other than how the car felt, I'd have noticed
that the odometer said "8.1".)  But we turned anyway, and after a little
quick driving we caught up to a fellow Ultimate Driver in a 740iL.  We
waved, he waved back.  The road widened to two lanes, and I realized the
silliness of a 323iC being behind a 740iL, so I got over into the right
lane and screamed past him, waving merrily.  As I looked into my
rear-view mirror to see his reaction, I noticed him turning off into a
side-street, just as my mom said, "You know, Eric, I think these mile
figures refer to the trip odometer, not how far from the last turn you
go."

So we drove on for about two or three more miles until I found a
convenient place to turn around (a condo parking lot).  I found that
this car is fun even in a parking lot at 10mph, since you can get to 30
in a twinkling and back down to 10 even faster.  Well, we turned around
and got going the right way again, and made it back to 91 with no
mishaps (well, I *did* have to make a really abrupt turn because the 91S
sign was hidden behind a tree and I was in the wrong lane).  Once on 91,
I got a chance to see both the acceleration of the car and the braking
as I first merged with traffic (going about 75) and then braked to keep
from rear-ending the idiots holding up traffic (going about 45).  Some
creative lane-changes got me to a place where traffic was flowing
smoothly, if not quickly, and I managed to pass the 740iL again (this
time not missing my exit).

Once back on Jennings (?) Street in Hartford, I hit a red light, and to
my satisfaction pulled up dead-alongside the 328iC at the front of the
light.  My mom looked at me, looked at the three kids in the 328, and
said in a loud voice, "No racing!  Or I'll tell *all* your mothers!"

So, as we pulled out, I very gently (and smoothly, for a change)
accelerated through the corner in first.  Once we hit the straightaway
and 2nd gear, though, I put the pedal down.  (The 328 got held up by
traffic in the right lane; I, fortunately, had no interruptions the rest
of the way.)  We turned into the parking lot a little earlier than we
were supposed to, but hey, who cares, right?

When I got out of the car, I just couldn't stop smiling.  I may have to
cut off my hair to work out the tangles from driving at 90 with the top
down, but I didn't care.  The car felt *good*.  Whatever those guys in
Munich are doing, they're sure doing it right.

Anyway, the moral of the story is not to set yourself up for a
disappointment if you can't own anything but an M3 or 911 turbo or
whatever (which I had done prior to my Ultimate Drive).  You can still
have a lot of fun with the "wussy" BMW's.  Especially if you can get rid
of that annoying roof.  And especially if it's an automatic.

Well, that was literally the most fun I've ever had driving a car.  And
it's nice to know that when I get my first car, I can get the el-cheapo
BMW without getting an inferiority complex around the more expensive
ones.

BMW should decide to join the fight against breast cancer more often.

Sorry for the WOB, but I felt like ranting.  And I hope that some other
folks out there realize that they can be happy with a non-M BMW.

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