That whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.” Join me for the next edition of Kinardi Line, wherein I’ll survey our staff’s flesh for roundel tattoos.“For God so loved the world that he gave His one and only Son, For that brand of punishment, we still have the M5 and its Competition badge. Oh, and you’ll save something like 30 grand if you choose an M340i with every good option over a brand-new base-model M5.īut the best part? The M340i will never slam your nose into the steering wheel for looking sternly at its brake pedal. You can’t buy it with a stick shift, but it’s lighter than an E39 M5, more fuel efficient, and every bit as tossable and comfortable. That reigns in some of the suspension’s harshness but will do little about the overall calibration.īut what if BMW still made a vehicle in the vein of the greatest M5 ever built, the E39 generation that covered the 2000-2003 model years? Just like the E39, our hypothetical M5 would have four doors and acres of usable luggage space, a wheelbase around 112 inches for those just-right proportions, a 400-hp engine, a curb weight less than 4000 pounds, and grace in the face of corner-carving and highway driving alike.īMW does make that car. So where should old-school M5 fans turn if they’re after an über-sedan that handles, but doesn’t go all spike-and-leather dominatrix during cross-state jaunts? You could buy a base M5, skip the Competition badge and carbon brakes (and save about $16,000 in the process). (Confoundingly, the new M4 Competition on carbon-ceramic rotors doesn't exhibit this bad habit.) And I’d like to blame the brake calibration on the optional carbon brake package, but a 440i xDrive I sampled recently had the same problem, despite coming with standard iron rotors. Much of that calibration is a band-aid, meant to disguise the extra length, width, and curb weight that each new generation of the M5 has accrued. Suddenly, sharpness meant immediacy of input, involvement meant a harsh suspension, and every brush of the brake pedal pinned your lungs to your sternum. Somewhere along the line, BMW and its paying customers changed their minds. Sure, handling creds were baked in, but not at the expense of comfort. Every previous M5 had a hellfire engine, but paired it with largely sociable, sensible four-door dynamics. Even one generation ago, BMW’s über-sedans didn’t behave like pit vipers at the dinner table. And that got me wondering: What use is there for a big BMW sedan that you can't just point toward the other end of the continent and go? This exact product, from this exact company, used to represent style, speed, and above all, comfort. I Sold My $700 8-Series for a Massive Profitīecause another big Bimmer, the M8 Competition, drove exactly the same way when I tested it late last year. And despite a lifetime spent rejecting self-love for self-flagellation, I’m convinced this is a calibration issue, not errant programming of the flesh-bag at the wheel. All that caused more than a dab of grief for my long-suffering wife, who’s nursed a herniated disc for years. BMW’s lane-keeping assist tugged violently at the wheel, which sent my heart racing whenever the M5 strayed too close to the edge of the road. The chassis sent up expansion-joint clunks like rifle shots from the road, and the M5’s suspension had far less compliance than a luxury sedan ought to.
Or just driving the thing in general.Īt low speeds the abrupt brake calibration caused balky, jerking stops. After a week slogging city streets and hustling Oregon’s finest winding asphalt, I never came to grips with the big sedan's touchy brake pedal. Hence my forehead’s date with tempered glass. Hard.īut that first inch of brake-pedal travel brings on a huge portion of the M5 Competition’s stopping power. So when the sea of faceless Teslas finally parted, I hammered the M5’s twin-turbo V-8. I blamed traffic-the stretch of asphalt between Seattle and Tacoma is one of our nation’s most congested chunks of highway.
My face nearly cannoned through the Bimmer’s windshield. But during my first minutes in the M5, somewhere just south of Seattle, I brushed the brake pedal. This should have been an ideal time to drive the M5, my brain still awash in M3 feel-good juice. During the afterglow of that M3 rodeo in Ohio, I borrowed a 2021 BMW M5 Competition for a weekend in Oregon wine country.
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