Valuable steel: the £500,000 BMW M1

6 November, 2016

Have you ever wondered why the 2009 BMW 1M was never called the M1, like every other M-series car that the automaker has ever produced? It’s because of this car — the incredibly rare BMW M1.

In the ’70s BMW wanted to enter into GT Racing (what would later become the Procar Series), and the German-designed horses were to be built under an agreement with Italian manufacturer Lamborghini. However, conflicts arose between the companies, which prompted BMW to produce the car themselves in-house.

With a production run of a mere 457 units, only 399 sold as road cars from 1978 to 1981, while the rest were used for racing purposes — the car also claims the title of BMW’s first mid-engined model to be mass-produced, and now commands a price tag of £500,000 or more for what little of them remain today.

But that’s enough ramblings from us, watch, and more importantly listen to the beautiful sounds of the BMW M1 as driven by James from the YouTube channel MR JWW.

“Gotcha!’’ The continuing tale of a Nissan/Datsun tragic – part two

In 1996, I was on a mission to buy a suitable pavement scorcher and visited the now-defunct Manukau City Car Fair. Unbelievably, among the sea of four-door utilitarian Japanese compacts was the absolute jewel in the crown, my automobile wet dream — a 1985 two-door R30 RS Nissan Skyline FJ20 Turbo five-speed manual in nice condition. The owner wanted $10,000 — a great deal.
But what did I do? I bailed out, paralysed by indecision. The money would have been a stretch, but it was the worst automotive choice I ever made. Instead, I went for a rusty Toyota Sprinter 8 Valve Twin Cam Coupé, which was pretty terminal from the get-go. I know. We’ve all done it, but there was really no excuse for passing up the Skyline, and I was haunted by that for years.

Last Tango in the Fast Lane

In the mid ’80s, I locked into a serious Nissan/Datsun performance obsession. It could have kicked off with my ’82 Datsun Sunny, though this would have been a bit of a stretch of the imagination, given its normally aspirated 1.2-litre motor — not the sort of thing to unleash radical road warrior dreams. But it did plant a seed, and it was a sweet little machine and surprisingly quick, in contrast to all the diabolical English offerings I had endured.
I was living in South Auckland at the time and was an unrepentant petrolhead. Motor racing was my drug of choice, and I followed the scene slavishly. Saloon car racing, with the arrival of the international Group A formula, was having a serious renaissance here and in Australia and Europe. There was suddenly an exotic air in local racing that had been absent for 15 years.
I was transfixed by this new frontier of motor racing that had hit our tracks in 1985–87 and the new array of machinery on display. In 1986, the Nissan Skyline RS DR30 made a blinding impression on me. The Australian Fred Gibson-run, Peter Jackson-sponsored team of George Fury and Glenn Seton were the fastest crew of the 1986 Australian Touring Car Championship. But Kiwi legend Robbie Francevic snuck through to win the Aussie Championship in his Volvo 240T after a strong start and consistent finishes.