Friday, shortly after noon, an anonymous man with a flatbed truck came to take away a dear friend of mine: my 1994 BMW 325is. She is not to be blamed for her donation. Blistering New York August commutes and frigid February nor'easters were met with equal fortitude and faithfulness. She'd slide, she'd squeal, she'd leak rainwater down the rear-view mirror onto my trouser leg, but she always got me home. Even when the radiator blew that hot August night, she didn't let it happen until I'd found a parking spot. 45 minutes of torture, but she did it.
So why did we part? The California Smog Board felt she wasn't good enough for this state. Though she'd passed NYC smog every year with flying colors, she just didn't pass muster here. Faced with a massive repair bill, costing more than the old girl was worth, I had to let her go. And with very mixed emotions. You see, our relationship goes way back.
We first met over 6 years ago when she belonged to my dad. Sumie's parents had traveled out to California to meet my father, for the first time, shortly after we had gotten engaged. We went to Scott's Seafood in Jack London Square and had a wonderful lunch. I then drove my Dad back in the BMW so that he could rest his leg (his femur had been shattered in a previous accident and, unfortunately, never fully healed). The car and I bonded then. I even recall my dad being amazed that I didn't stall it. "Everyone stalls this car the first time they drive it. How are you able to do it?" he had asked. "Not sure," I responded. "I guess we just like each other."
Her paint was a bit shinier then, and she didn't slip out of 1st, 2nd, or reverse, but she did have over 200,000 miles. Despite the mileage, she didn't really show her age. 100+, or so I'm told, could be hit with ease on back roads and the advised speed for any turn could generally be doubled. Again, or so I'm told.
Several months after my father passed away Sumie and I came out to pick up the old girl and bring her out to NYC. This was no trailer job. We were going to drive her across the entire country. And in less than a week!
After buying some compression stockings, we left San Francisco for the Yosemite Valley.
From there our little BMW took us to the heights of the Grand Canyon, where both Sumie and I got headaches, but 225,000 mile car ran like a champ.
We sped through the southern states, making a short pit-stop in Memphis for some barbecue and Elvis.
In 6 short days she got us from San Francisco to our home on the Upper East side without complaint and without failure. And that's exactly how she served us our entire time in New York. She cut through Manhattan traffic like a hot knife through butter and made mincemeat of the twisty and narrow country lanes upstate. And on one family trip, she turned out to be Shuhei's favorite toy. He was "driving" for almost an hour!
Through it all, she never lost her pep. The week before she was shipped to California - and I have this on rather good authority - she could still hit over 100 late at night in the wilds of northern New Jersey.
But now the time has come to say goodbye. The little BMW will always have a special place in my memories, just like its older sisters.
My Karmann Ghia:
My Porsche 914:
And my BMW 3.0si:
We'll be a one car family for some time to come. But that doesn't mean I won't be searching for a replacement. As I've mentioned before, given my previous experiences with the California Smog Board, the next car I buy will be a 1975 or older. It needs to be fun, relatively reliable, a good handler, and equipped with a sunroof. The front runner is the classic BMW 2002. A Porsche 912 Targa, if I could find one for the right price (they've gotten expensive!), would also be a good fit. Or perhaps a vintage Mercedes 280se, but I'm not sure if I really want a four door.
I'm very much open to suggestions. So, if any of you have any ideas or leads, do not hesitate to share! I'd really love to get something that will be with me for the long run. Something that I may be able to pass on to Mimi in the future. That way she won't have to say goodbye, like I did, to a dear, though mechanical, friend.
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