While I never got around to blogging about it, a 1992 BMW 525i resided in front of my house for the past two years, recently replaced by another car. This post will serve as a chronicle of its journey under my ownership. The 525i was a gift from a relative, and though it only accumulated a shade more than 5,000 miles in its two years in my care, I learned a lot from it, and wish it well with its new owners, wherever and whomever they may be. I’ll dip into some of the technical bits, but don’t fret – I won’t stay long. I hope you enjoy reading about my BMW as much as I enjoyed owning it. So, let’s get started …
Part 1: 1992 BMW 525i
BMWs are widely touted as being driver’s cars. Their marketing tagline is “The Ultimate Driving Machine”. While electronic steering and softening suspensions have sullied that reputation in the eyes of enthusiasts, BMW still makes aspirational machines. You’ve arrived when you buy your first 3-Series; you’ve become established when you take possession of your first 5-Series, and you’ve conquered all when you take the keys to your first 7-Series. I even have a friend who owns an M3 and an M5, so I guess he’s arrived and become established, with gusto. He also loves driving fast cars, so it makes sense that he groans every time BMW redesigns one of his favorites, reaching for more and varied buyers.
But enough about BMWs in general, let’s talk about one very special car in particular.
Enter the 1992 BMW 525i. Owned by a close relative of mine and donated to my wife and I in February of 2012, it sported black, single-stage paint on all but its front clip (the paint there was replaced after a fence fell on the front of the car in 1994), and tan leather in surprisingly good shape on the inside. It sported 185,550 miles, 20 years of patina from a life well-lived, and functioning electronics – not something every BMW owner can say! It was in great shape overall, and even though it had sat a few years under a tarp, it was well-loved by its previous – and original – owners. It even sported working heated leather seats, a corded cell phone, and a sunroof. My wife and I accepted the gift, and I had it flat-bedded to a local independent BMW shop, for a quick once-over, and to see what all it needed to start up and get running.
A quick sidebar on what all a 1992 BMW 525i comes equipped with. The car’s features are just now starting to be seen in cars under $20,000, from auto-down on all four windows and auto-up on the driver’s window, to the one-touch open/close functionality of the sunroof, the on-board computer showing MPGs, distance to empty, and even a rudimentary navigation aide. It features a 4-speed automatic, a GM HydraMatic of all things, which produces silky smooth shifts and downshifts at a quick stab of the throttle. The handling is solid, with a suspension able to soak up bumps on the highway without disrupting your coffee or your thoughts, although you’re holding that coffee cup in your hand, since cup holders were verboten on BMWs until later in the ’90s. The brakes are smooth as well, owing to its executive buyer audience. Now back to this car’s travels.
After charging up the battery and doing an oil change, the BMW fired right up, according to the BMW shop. Except, on a test drive, the check engine light was tripped by a faulty 02 sensor. Since my regular mechanic would be available later in the week, I asked for the car to be buttoned up and I’d come get her after work. Little did I know that this would be the first in a series of things that this well-loved car would need. You see, what I didn’t know at the time, was that since the car sat, and its parts were already 20 years old, I’d need either a great deal of time, money, or both, to fix what ailed this beloved BMW.
I say beloved, because my relatives washed and waxed the car at every opportunity, and save for some parking lot rash, the car was in tip-top shape aesthetically. That love continued with me, for my first drive home in Beatrice (sounded like the name of a good ol’ gal who was crotchety and set in her ways) was blissful. The tight steering, responsive handling and braking, and buttery-smooth acceleration, all looked to be indicative of a well-engineered driver’s car. Only the automatic transmission seemed to hold her back, even though it worked as a willing partner in cornering, offering up regular, sport, and a sort of manual mode.
I marveled at how a 20-year old car had working heated seats, and laughed at the corded cell phone (which still powered on, but alas, could not gain a signal – cell phone carriers long ago switched to digital from analogue signals). I later marveled at the innovation that 525i contained, what with one-touch sunroof, auto-down on all four side windows, and auto-up on the driver’s window, which fully half of the 16 cars I’d owned couldn’t claim. Even my wife was surprised, as her 2006 Mazda didn’t have a one-touch sunroof or auto-down on anything but the front windows. How expensive, really, could the electronics be to do this to all windows, on all cars?
Parked in my driveway a few days later, I regarded its exterior design as classy, without being pretentious. There were no exaggerated character lines, no fanciful (but useless) vents or wings, just an executive’s sedan, ready to cross town or cross the country, at whatever speed you’d like. Like a well-tailored suit, the car’s body simply hugs its structure without being frumpy or taut. The car still sported a strong engine, brakes, and a sporting demeanor when called upon. How wonderful, I thought it would be, for this car to gather more miles and years under my stewardship, and I thought it would be all roses. I’d be wrong, but it would still be worth it. As a semi-professional detailer, I enjoy doing minor paint restoration; removal of hazing or light scratches, swirl marks and oxidation. Applying wax and keeping a car shiny are relaxing to me.
A couple days later, the BMW’s faulty 02 sensor was replaced by my regular mechanic, who would also be my consigliere when it came to this car. I also noticed the car didn’t heat up fully – in fact, its temperature gauge would drop when leaving a light in sub-40 degree temperatures. A thermostat past its prime was to blame, so that was replaced as well. He also indicated that I should replace the tires and belts post-haste, and that my A/C wasn’t working. On the way home, I noticed that the seat twisted funny when I tried to adjust the seat-back angle. Upon researching it on the Internet, I discovered it to be a common BMW problem, called, imaginatively enough, “BMW Seat Twist.” A few phone calls later, I found out it could be fixed, but was expensive, and the car already needed a few other things, so that’d have to wait. I really wanted this car to replace my wife’s car, so she’d have a more luxurious car to drive, but that would mean making it reliable first and foremost. The BMW Seat Twist problem is caused by the worm gears and associated cables and sheathing in the seat backs on BMW’s cars. If I understand the problem correctly, it involves the cables coming loose from their sheathing and thus not pulling or pushing on the seat back, changing its angle. The solutions I came up with involve total replacement or fire. Neither one of which I was willing to undertake (the former for cost, the latter for the very real possibility of setting the whole car or seat on fire). Luckily, the seats were in relatively comfortable positions already, so it wasn’t necessary to adjust them except fore and aft.
I had gotten the 02 sensor replaced, but still needed to meet up with the previous owner, who if you’ll remember, is a close relative, to do the requisite transfer paperwork. I was to drive up the highway a few minutes to meet up with him and his wife for lunch. When I first got on the highway, as soon as I hit 45mph, the car felt like it was trying to shake me off, like a bucking bronco. The shaking stopped around 65 mph, so I hoped the old girl would hold together. She did, and I met up with my relatives to do the transfer, and waited in line at the MVA to do the title and registration work. Once home, yet more internet research revealed to me the dreaded “BMW Death Rattle.” While not a literal death, it indicated that the bushings in the front lower control arms of the car’s suspension had worn completely out, and would need replacement. While I was at it, I had the front brakes and struts replaced, saving a lot on labor costs, since all those parts had to come out anyway.
Shortly after those repairs, it became apparent to me that the same parts on the rear – brakes, shocks, and wheel bearings – all needed replacement too. They weren’t causing nearly as many issues as the front mechanicals were, so it was deemed that I “had time” before they’d be truly in need of replacement, so I put them on the list of things to take care of, but towards the bottom. I even contemplated replacing the BMW’s speakers, since the rear ones crackled quite a bit, but replacements were hard to find, and aftermarket speaker installation involved cutting – something I wasn’t quite ready to do.
Ahh, now the car can be truly enjoyed, right? Yes and no. The tires were dry-rotted from sitting, and since small cracks on the treads were visible, it was time for new rubber. The major repairs Beatrice had needed had been taken care of, and there was still a little money left in the kitty, so on went a set of four Michelin Primacy MXV4 tires, in a 205/65/15 size. It turned out to be one of the cheaper fixes, only $625, which included mounting and balancing. Now the car really handles. No longer does it slide, the tires simply have amazing grip when combined with the sublime BMW chassis, which soaks up bumps, but lets you know that they were there. Kind of like a butler that steps into your parlor and informs you that door-to-door salesmen had shown up, but were summarily dismissed. With new shoes, I felt I could test what the BMW’s bones were really made of, less worried about having a blowout. Without a doubt, this car loved going around corners, even slow ones at moderate speeds. Ninety degree right-handers at 25mph? Sure, Beatrice loved ’em. It was like she had new hips installed!
As it got warmer in 2012, the A/C needed to be taken care of, and the previous owners had kindly provided enough refrigerant and tooling to do it myself, but my mechanic insisted, wary of DIY kits. He said they tended to literally blow up in peoples’ faces, so he offered to do the job for mere pennies, with the provided refrigerant of course. While in the shop for the A/C charge, the front wheel bearings were replaced, and to keep things safe, the windshield washer pump was replaced. I don’t even think that labor was charged on the pump, it was so easy to swap out. It was at this point I began to wish I had the mechanical ability and space to do work on the car myself, but when asked, my mechanic always liked to point out that this part or that part had to be replaced from underneath, and since I didn’t have access to a lift at home, much less a flat driveway, those jobs would be way more difficult and time-consuming for me to accomplish. It’s a BMW after all, he’d tell me in a jovial manner any time I asked him.
At this point, it’s May of 2012, and my wife was graduating from George Washington’s prestigious MBA program, and her parents were in town. With my own mother involved, that made 5, and while the F-150 was nice, it didn’t fit into most parking spaces in D.C., and my wife’s car was usable if not as luxurious as our other two steeds. That left the BMW to be chosen as the transportation to and from her graduation. That, and if it was bumped into while in downtown Washington, D.C., we wouldn’t mind so much.
The weather was beautiful for the day, the drive down was easy, parking was surprisingly easy, and going home, we decided to stop off for ice cream. Then Beatrice reared up and demanded she be taken home. Back seat passengers were complaining about the smell of fresh gas, and after a couple miles of trying to figure out which car around us was the source of the odor, it was determined that it was us. Oops. Stopping at home instead of going out to eat, my father-in-law and I found the leak, and sure enough, it was a high-pressure fuel line that runs the entire length of the car to the engine. A quick call to my insurance, and one free tow later, the car was at the mechanic, again. The leak was indeed the fuel line, and it was replaced.
All is well now, right? Yep, except this car is 20 years old, full of 20-year-old parts. While it’s still great fun to drive, man-made products only last so long, especially when they mix metal and rubber, as in the power steering hoses. One decided to spring a leak shortly after the fuel line was replaced (jealous much?), and cause steering problems. Another quick day at the mechanic and it too was replaced. I still hadn’t replaced the belts, but they were holding in there. Nor had I fixed the seats. Or the rear brakes, wheel bearings, or shocks, all of which needed replacement.
As winter of 2012 approached, the BMW wasn’t driven as much. The F-150 has a remote starter for those extra-nippy days, and it was determined that it still needed rear shocks, rear brakes, and rear struts. Then the exhaust started leaking. Apparently, there was a crack in it which required removal of the whole length of exhaust, in order to weld it up, which I had done, since I couldn’t find a decent used exhaust for a decent price. Ahh, finally, a little piece and quiet. For now.
January of 2013 rolls around, and I get a message on the dash: “LOW COOL LVL”. Sounds like “Low Coolant Level,” doesn’t it? Yep, you got it. A pressure test reveals a leak at the bottom of the radiator, and a measly estimate of $450 to replace. At this point, over $4,000 had been put into a car worth $2,500 to the right buyer – and $1,500 to anyone else. A private buyer offered somewhere in the latter neighborhood, but I still held out hope that I’d either find the time, tools, or local resources to help me do these repairs at home. Or a donor car to get cheap parts off of. Or even that I could park it for a while and not feel too bad about it. I started carrying a bottle of 50/50 anti-freeze/water mix in the trunk, adding a quart or so each week.
In March of 2013, while enjoying the BMW on a rare day where she seemed to love being running, I went around a corner at a good clip, and the engine revved, while the car slowed. Uh-oh, that’s a slipping transmission, never a good sign. A diagnosis at the mechanic revealed a very slowly-leaking transmission line. Replacement cost: $500, including labor. Ouch. I didn’t have the money, or more importantly, didn’t want to spend it. This car had just cost too much for the few miles I put on her. I asked about adding fluid, like I did the radiator. In their infinite wisdom, BMW took GM’s design and made it a sealed one, so you actually had to lift the car off the ground and use a syringe with special transmission fluid in it, to refill the transmission. Not something I could do in my driveway, yet again. I had my mechanic fill up the transmission, and it lasted almost a year, as it just started slipping pretty well in January of 2014.
This was all done in the first 3,000 miles I put on the car. Not generally considered a good start to a car’s ownership, but hey, I’d had the car almost two years, right? And put another 2,000 miles on her (that’s 190,550 miles on the odometer for those keeping track at home). That was worth something, wasn’t it? Flash forward to late 2013, and I had had enough. The car was coming up on a registration renewal and emissions test, and I was afraid the welds hadn’t held up well enough to pass the latter. After totaling up everything it would take to make the BMW a reliable car to drive, it was time to see her off. I had driven her to her original owners’ house for a Christmas party, where they gushed over being able to see her. They even took pictures of my wife and I with the car. A fitting send-off, I’d say. A year’s worth of car payments versus a year’s worth of those same payments going to my mechanic or a credit card, the former just jumped out as making more sense. It usually takes me a few months to find a car, so I started the search around Thanksgiving. I had a short list of cars I’d love to own (most car guys and girls do), so I started there.
Thus began a multi-month search for the BMW’s replacement.
Check back soon for Part 2
by John Suit