For 30 years, every new BMW M3 has lived in the shade
of the iconic original. We put munich’s 2015 turbomonster against its world
beating. Forebear: one built the legend, the other reframes it and the
stopwatch doesn’t lie.
Our white F80 was a preproduction M3 wearing carbon brakes,
19-inch wheels, and the optional seven-speed dual-clutch gearbox. (A six-speed
manual will be standard, complete with automatic rev-matching for people who
are incapable of learning a simple and rewarding skill and who should probably
stay on the couch.) Like all new M3s and M4s, it comes with an electronically
controlled locking differential, essentially a smarter version of the previous
car’s mechanically controlled piece.
Our white F80 was
a preproduction M3 wearing carbon brakes, 19-inch wheels, and the optional
seven-speed dual-clutch gearbox.
Fifteen minutes later, Till hopped into the F80, felt it out
for a few laps, and nonchalantly popped a 1:38.70. When the time was announced,
our crew grew quiet.
Faster. At a real track, on street tires, with a warranty.
Even the BMW PR guys on hand were a little shocked.
I climbed in and got a decent shock myself. That six is
madness. It’s an unstoppable fireball of grunt that will find your enemies, lay
waste to their homes, and burn their baseball-card collections. There’s barely
noticeable turbo lag in the bottom half of the tach and supercar surge
regardless of rpm. The carbon brakes (six-piston front, two rear) offer short
pedal travel with remarkable speed scrub and fade resistance. If you’re tame on
the throttle, there’s mild understeer. If you’re not, there’s the wonderful
sensation that you’re tooling around in a blizzard on bald rear tires.
I did a handful of laps, then came into the pits to take
notes. Contributing Editor Jack Baruth, at the track for support, leaned in the
window and asked how it was. It took a moment to get the words out.
Contributing
Editor Jack Baruth, at the track for support, leaned in the window and asked
how it was.
“I like it,” I wound up saying, “but it’s odd for an M3,
because you’re constantly keeping the car on a leash.” With stability control
off, the car is just goofy—sideways whenever you want, but it can be snappish
if you slack and is work to look after. That’s not a complaint, but it is a
quality usually personality among M3S. Ascribed to cars like Corvettes. M3s
have traditionally been chassis-first machines, and this one shifts the balance
According to BMW, an ’88 Group A E30 weighed around 2100 pounds, made up to 320
hp from 2.3 liters, and revved to 8200 rpm. A few years later, in the 2.5-liter
days of the German DTM championship, teams were seeing 10,000 rpm and 340 hp.
White said his 320-hp, 8500-rpm four is relatively durable, though research
suggests each rebuild costs more than a new Honda.
White said his
320-hp, 8500-rpm four is relatively durable, though research suggests each
rebuild costs more than a new Honda.
Strapping in, the cockpit felt about as large as the F80’s
trunk. The production-look dash held small VDO gauges and a 9500-rpm Stack
tach. A stubby shift lever sat on the tunnel. An L-shaped kill switch was right
behind it; I gently clicked it on and hit the starter, and the engine thumped
into a buzzy churn.
I’ll come clean: For a number of reasons (see page 40), your
author was climbing into the one car he’d wanted to meet since childhood. So I
took two easy laps, felt out the tires, and slung the M3 into Mid-O’s Turn 1
like a guy who’d been waiting for it for most of his life.
The first quick lap was a series of happy realizations. Even
when loaded, the manual steering was shockingly light—one lap in, I found
myself experimentally hanging a finger on the wheel and easily guiding the car
with a knuckle. Where the F80 had to be talked around the limits of its tires
with a whip and a chair, the E30’s nose seemed almost weightless, its rear
suspension vapor.
