Spannerhead Dot Com

Temporarily occupying the two-door niche in Jaguar’s product lineup after the merciful demise of the Series III E-Type, the XJ-C is the stopgap that should have stayed.

More attractive than its successor the XJ-S, which for its part experienced a mixed reception, the XJ-C took the basic XJ6 sedan shape and, by removing the rear doors and B-pillar, subtly polished the natural attractiveness of the already-comely sedan.

It was offered from 1975 until XJ-S production was in full swing in 1978, and could be had with either of the two engine options offered to its four-door stablemate: The classic XK6 4.2l inline-6 or the big 5.3l V12. In spite of the removal of the door and associated bits, the XJ-C still weighed around 4,000 lbs, so performance was stately rather than sparkling.

Furthermore, as an interim measure, the car exhibited production problems that Jaguar never resolved. Rather than investing in bespoke tooling, the automaker manufactured the car by taking standard XJ6 sedan body panels and modifying them in a kind of factory-sanctioned chop-top operation. The doors, for example, were simply two sedan doors grafted together, and the roof was an assembly-line modification of the original as well. It’s for this reason that all XJ-Cs left the factory with vinyl roofs, to cover the weld seams underneath.

Jaguar never really figured out how to make the pillar-less windows seal properly either. In fairness, the car was introduced at the “height” of British Leyland’s infamous domination of its indigenous car industry, and quality control problems cropped up in auto plants across Britain during that period. Still—for as attractive a car as the XJ-C is, and for as much as Jaguar charged for it, it would have been nice to be able to drive through an afternoon shower without having to don a raincoat inside the car. If development capital hadn’t been siphoned off to work out the details of its replacement, perhaps Jaguar would’ve buckled down and really cured the XJ-C’s nagging issues. Then again, maybe not.

I like it a lot. As mentioned above, it’s prettier than the XJ-S and more representative of the classic Jaguar styling idiom, with more feline, resolved lines. Besides, the whole “beautiful but flawed” argument has never really turned me away. Would I drive one every day? No, but as a weekend cruiser it’d be hard to beat.

Image credits: carstainment.com, motorstown.com, jaguarclub.net

Carl’s resto-mod 1977 BMW 630CSi might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but it’s hard to knock the thoroughness of his execution.

Originally the poster BMW E24 6-Series for the tuning outfit Hardy & Beck, Carl came across it in 2009 and fell in love with the car and its history. After completing one of the most comprehensive Z3 M Coupe turbo builds in the country, he trained his sights on the E24, determined to infuse the car with his unique vision.

The idea for the engine is to create the highest-output naturally-aspirated M30, retaining as much of its character while turning everything “up to 11,” so to speak (and hopefully still remaining somewhat streetable). Meticulously prepped, the engine features custom 10.8:1 compression Wiseco pistons and TWM Induction individual throttle bodies (ITBs). The M30’s 2-valve cylinder head has never been known as a paragon of breathing efficiency, but Carl’s build will definitely explore the upper limit of its capabilities.

The interior has been completely overhauled as well, with new seats, upholstery and freshened details. It’s not original, but it all fits together somehow, and it’s special, and that counts for something. Will be following the remainder of the build with interest.

This simultaneously amazes me with the audacity of its spectacle and fits right in with what we’ve come to expect from our flush-with-oil-wealth Middle Eastern friends.

The police department of Dubai, United Arab Emirates—a city well-known for its over-the-top construction projects like the Burj Khalifa (the world’s tallest structure), among others—has begun amassing a collection of supercars that would put that of many auto moguls to shame. Just to list a few, they’ve snapped up a Lamborghini Aventador, Ferrari FF, Mercedes SLS AMG, Bentley Continental GT, Chevrolet Camaro SS, BMW M6, Ford Mustang and top it all off, an über-rare Aston Martin One-77 and Bugatti Veyron. The Core77 article rightly points out that the majority of the acquisitions are two-seaters, making the detainment of a suspected malfeasant impossible, and that there are far more economical and effective ways to nab speeders in this day and age.

Like most everything else in Dubai, then, it’s done for the spectacle, the buzz, the attention. As much as I cringe at the idea of one of these exotic thoroughbreds on a police beat, it is kind of fun to imagine trundling along the highway, doing the speed limit while a teenager in a be-stickered Fast & Furious reject whizzes past and is subsequently nabbed by a highway patrolman in an Aventador. Visualize one of those in your rear-view mirror…

Did my first oil change of the new BMW 540i yesterday morning. It’s swimming in 8 fresh quarts of 15W-40 Shell Rotella T heavy-duty oil (love the stuff), pumped through a clean Mann filter element.

An oil change is always the first, or nearly the first service I perform on any new-to-me car. It amounts to a mechanical handshake of sorts, a chance for a new engine bay and its unique quirks and particularities to introduce itself. With the 540i, I can report than the process went very smoothly, the drain plug was a little tight in the initial going but loosened up, and the oil pour was quick considering how much of the liquid the engine drinks.

I love the activity. I love the rote mechanical nature of it and the fact that it’s a clearly delineated process of involvement with the lifeblood of the source of the car’s mobility. I even love its regularity. Changing oil isn’t infrequent enough to be relegated to the realm of the occasional repair, nor does it happen every week or even every month (depending on driving habits, of course), where it would become so regular as to be tedious and mundane. Fundamentally, it’s a ritual, and just like any ritual, it assumes a quasi-ceremonial significance, as if it were some kind of regular “sacrifice” to the car gods, or a kind of communion, a routine reconnection with the mechanical side of what can so easily fade into the background in the midst of our daily commute. I maintain that even if regular repairs are being performed, and grease has taken up permanent residence under my fingernails—even then, the oil change performs a necessary function: It re-centers me with respect to my relationship with the reciprocating bits under the hood; it serves as a kind of reset button for my mechanical inclinations.

With that in mind, I was slightly disappointed that an oil change on the 540i is marginally less complex than on the 525i. They both feature cartridge-style filters (instead of the standard spin-on type), which I love if only for the assortment of o-rings and crush-washers that come in the box with the filter element. The 540i’s canister lid, though, screws onto the filter housing body as a single piece, whereas the 525i’s employed a long through-bolt with extra sealing hardware to replace. I miss the extra complexity; the additional steps kept me involved in the activity that much longer—but never to the point of tedium.

In any event, whatever the car, no matter how inaccessible the filter or messy the process, an oil change remains an often-overlooked opportunity to find value in a simple, regular interaction with one’s car. I relish that.

Image credit: bmwblog.com

Here it is. Just arrived Friday morning. And the important stuff:

Yes folks, I have obtained one of the 1,524 6-speed BMW 540i E34s to be imported during the single model year they were available here: 1995. Arctic Gray (Arktisgrau) over Dove leather interior; I love the color combination. The engine is a 4.0l DOHC V8 with a rated output of 282 hp and 295 ft-lbs of torque. The car weighs just north of 3,500 lbs, which makes for a 0-60 time very close to 6 seconds. Needless to say, it offers a healthy bump over the 189 hp of my ’95 525i. The added displacement provides a very meaty torque curve as well, which translates to neck-snapping acceleration from most anywhere on the tach, and the DOHC head keeps the engine breathing well and pulling hard right up to its 6500 rpm redline. 2nd and 3rd gear acceleration is relentless, and the engine makes a lovely noise.

One of the main selling points of the car is displayed above: Its immaculate interior. Aside from some repairable door weatherstripping shrinkage, the interior looks new. The sport seats are firm but comfortable, the color scheme is very pleasing and it even features the optional 6-disc CD changer my 525 is hard-wired for but didn’t come with.

I found the car on Autotrader in Denver a couple of Fridays ago. I messaged a BMW forum member in the area asking if he’d be willing to check it out for me. Not only did he graciously agree to do so, he actually offered to deliver the car to me the following week if I would pay his expenses and the flight home. How could I refuse?

After leaving the dealership Wednesday afternoon, he rolled into central NC last Friday morning and met me at my office. He hung out for the morning and I drove him to the airport over lunch, after reimbursing him for gas and his expenses, which turned out to be amazingly inexpensive. Needless to say, I’m incredibly grateful, and the forum member has earned himself a gold star from me now and forever.

It does have a few issues, including dampers in need of replacement, cracked/missing foglights and a touch of rust along the bottoms of the doors (most frequent E34 rust area). New dampers are on order, I’m in negotiations with BMW friends over foglights from parts cars, and taking care of the rust for good is simply a matter of locating replacement doors and swapping everything over. It’s easier than it sounds.

The idea in replacing the 525 with a 540 from the same year was to retain as many of the qualities that I love about the E34 525 and shore up those areas in which I’m less than satisfied. So far, mission accomplished. Here’s what I wrote on the forums:

Alright, driving impressions compared to my 525. Overall, very similar. The 540 definitely feels more hunkered-down. Where the 525 would dance through the corners the 540 seems to take a set and bite down. If the 525 is a ballet dancer, the 540 is more of a Barry Sanders-type running back. I’ll have to post another review once I get the new dampers installed because I’m sure that’s coloring my impression of the 540. The new car does feel a bit heavier in the nose, but the car still feels like it pivots around the driver’s seat bottom—my all-time favorite quality of the E34. Overall the 540 doesn’t feel quite as “flickable” as the 525, but it’s not as floaty either, if that makes sense. Again, I’m sure new dampers will make a huge difference.

The 6-speed has taken some getting used to. I know the 5-speed in the 525 so well, the ratios and gearchanges are completely second-nature. Now I’m wondering if I’m on the highway, loping along in 6th and need to gun it to pass, do I drop 1 gear? 2 gears? Gotta get used that, and the stiff throttle cable isn’t helping with learning the car’s rev-matching/heel-and-toeing behavior.

And the power…oh the power. I’ll just come out and say it (some of you will laugh): This is the fastest car I’ve ever owned. The surge in 2nd and especially 3rd reminds me of my old 1JZ-swapped Supra for the 24 hours or so it was running correctly (long story), and that makes sense: Similar power (282 for the E34 vs. 280 for the Supra) and weight (3500 for the E34 vs. 3450 for the Supra). I remember distinctly pulling onto a country road in the Supra, opening it up and muttering “Holy crap” at the wave of power; I had exactly the same reaction in the 540 not 20 minutes ago when I laid 20 feet of rubber at the 1-2 upshift and kept it buried… It is addictive like nothing else.

So far, so good. Working through the laundry list of little things that need to be taken care of upon acquiring a new-to-me car is always kind of fun, and satisfying. Onward…

It looks like I might have to buy an XBox One.

For car buffs, games like the upcoming Forza 5 qualify as killer apps for any platform, especially if the above clip represents real in-game footage (and with a few slight exceptions, there’s little reason to think it doesn’t).

I’m not quite convinced, for example, that in the actual game, chunks of rubber kick up from a car’s tires, or that carbon fiber weaves will be perfect alignment. Not only that, but contrary to what’s shown in the trailer above, it’s extremely unlikely that a McLaren F1, great though it is, would be able to hold its own around a racetrack against the upcoming P1. More likely it would get its ass handed to it.

But such disparities between the intro sequence and the game itself are expected. Even if the actual graphics are several notches less refined than those shown above, they will still represent the cutting edge of driving simulation. Couple that with refined vehicle dynamics, engaging circuits, and especially key licensing arrangements with premier performance automakers, and you’ve got yourselves a winner.

As an aside, it’s interesting to compare the clip above to the intro sequence for Microprose’s 1992 landmark racing game Formula One Grand Prix, one of the first racing simulations to feature realistic track and car detail. We’ve come a long way in 20 years.

In a recent column, Peter De Lorenzo skewers Jaguar’s latest marketing efforts:

The stewards of Jaguar have decided that they will use the launch of the F-Type to reinvent the brand so as to appeal to a whole new hipper audience. In the process of doing so they will turn the brand into a recurring joke, with “baddest ass badboys” thrown in for good measure.

It’s an insult to the brand’s legacy and a rank insult to anyone who might even be remotely interested in checking the F-Type out.

I’d take it even further, though, and conjecture the British automaker’s recent hit-and-miss attempts to reposition themselves in the marketplace extend past the veneer of marketing, down into the realm of production development. Marketers, after all, although they influence engineers and designers, can only work with what they’re given.

With the new F-Type, Jaguar’s (ambitiously) stated benchmark is the Porsche 911, and yet the car weighs 400 lbs more than a base 911 and sports no manual transmission option, at least initially. Sure, they may load the car up with enough power to dust the German sports car in a straight line, but nowadays your average high-performance luxury sedan from Mercedes and Audi can accomplish that feat—the differences lies in the dynamics. That’s what makes a car distinctive; what gives it personality, character, and over time, what builds a brand image. The F-Type, regrettably, seems to take a page from the retro-themed BMW Z8 playbook in that it tries to be all things to all people—luxury cruiser and tire-smoking sports car—and ends up not being very good at either of them. Not only that, but its design is far too backward-looking in light of the successful launch of the XF and XJ luxury sedans, whose design ushered in new themes for Jaguar and had the opportunity to help position the brand as a design leader, a British Audi, if you will—if they had maintained that forward-looking styling direction.

But…the F-Type is a step backward design-wise, and its powerplant and chassis philosophy reflect a lack of focus on the part of its manufacturer. In light of that, perhaps the marketers are simply making the best of a less-than-ideal situation.

Image credit: autoblog.com

Chris Harris raises the question around the 2:40 mark of his preview of Porsche’s newest supercar.

His basic point is that although the combined 887 hp of the 918’s conventional V8 and electric motors may seem impressive, the car is saddled with the extra weight of the batteries and associated hardware, to the point where it tips the scales at a not-inconsiderable 3,700 lbs. Given the extra poundage, it needs the extra power just to be able to keep up with its British and Italian competition, the McLaren P1 and LaFerrari respectively, and even then finds itself nipping at their heels past the quarter mile posts. With respect to acceleration, the weight of the 918’s hybrid system takes away with its left hand what power it gives with its right.

The obvious solution, then, would be to dispense with the electric motors, leaving the car with “only” 608 hp from its 4.6l V8 and half a ton lighter—a solution Harris proposes during the course of the review. He does get some seat time around a test circuit, and his experience seems to suggest that the torque-vectoring ability of the added hardware might be of use to the chassis for more than just pure acceleration… But, somewhat annoyingly, a factory “chaperone” was along for the ride, and given the in-car audience, Harris’ comments may have been less impartial than they would have been otherwise.

Still, to take a wide-angle view of the new class of hybrid supercars, there’s little doubt the value of the older, purer range-toppers like the McLaren F1 and especially the Ferrari F40 will go through the roof as a kind of backlash against all the new techno-wizardry. That much is certain.

The 2011-Present Cayenne

…in which the German performance automaker shows that when it wants to, it can fix exactly what’s wrong, while augmenting what’s right.

Admittedly, I’ve never been a fan of the Cayenne. I’ve always seen it as something of a necessary evil, a cash cow for Porsche to milk for development capital to fund its more enthusiast-focused offerings like the 911, Boxster and its racing program. The first-generation car did absolutely nothing to dissuade that notion; it was massive (~5,000 lbs), barely functioned off-road and was breathtakingly ugly, cursed with awkward proportions, an array of lesion-like intakes on its nose and an anonymous, truck-like rear aspect. Sure, it was fast and its manufacturer did an amazing job of making such a juggernaut corner, accelerate and brake like a sports sedan, but at the end of the day, its looks were the real deal-breaker, to the point where Jeremy Clarkson famously refused to drive one home at the end of a Top Gear review, but simply left it in the middle of a field (Series 3, Episode 7).

The 2004-2010 Cayenne

Porsche certainly seems to have taken the criticism to heart. The 2011-present, 2nd-generation car has leapfrogged all others to become the best-looking SUV on the market; more importantly, its revised nose, tail and overall proportions actually make it look like a proper Porsche, like it belongs in the same stable as the 911, Cayman and Boxster, among others. Sure, it still weighs north of two tons, but instead of looking like a girthy automotive cinder block for status-minded country club denizens, the refreshed car looks exactly as an SUV from Porsche should look: An automotive capsule, an all-terrain bolide, ferrying its occupants anywhere in a cocoon of speed. And it manages to bend the laws of physics in delivering startling performance for something so tall and heavy, same as its predecessor.

Well done, Stuttgart. Now perform the same feat on the Panamera.

Image credits: netcarshow.com