2012 Bmw X6 M Sport Utility 4-door 4.4l on 2040-cars

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BMW M1 really was the Ultimate Driving Machine

Life giving you lemons? Make lemonade. That's the spirit in Munich that lead to BMW producing the only mid-engined sports car in its 98-year history. The project resulted from a collaboration with Lamborghini (now owned, incidentally, by arch-rival Audi) to meet Group 4 homologation requirements. Lamborghini withdrew, the FIA changed its rules, but BMW built it anyway.
Arguably one of Giorgetto Giugiaro's finest designs, the M1 packed a 3.5-liter inline-six, driving 273 horsepower to the rear wheels through a five-speed manual. The Procar racing version turbocharged that output up to 850 hp and attracted the top drivers in a one-make F1 support race series.
Over the course of three years, the Bavarian automaker only built 456 examples of the M1, and for BMW enthusiasts, there's no vehicle more coveted. But don't take our word for it - let Petrolicious tell one noteworthy owner's tale in the video below.

Dinan S3-R BMW 1M Coupe

I nearly shed tears a few years ago upon learning that BMW was only planning to produce a very limited quantity of its then-new 2011 1 Series M Coupe. In simplest terms, the two-door was a 1 Series fitted with a modified version of the automaker's twin-turbocharged 3.0-liter inline-six, and the running gear (gearbox, driveshaft, axles) from contemporary M3 models. It was also a return to form for the brand. Aggressively short and stubby in stature but packing telltale flared wheel arches that hinted at its potential, the four-seater was a spiritual successor to the original (and much loved) E30 M3 from decades earlier.
After spending a day with the original high-performance 1 at New York's Monticello Motor Club, I declared, "The little coupe with the big flares is old-school retro cool and deliciously fun to drive ... the new BMW 1 Series M Coupe doesn't target boy-racers, it targets enthusiasts." Yet sadly - and despite strong demand - BMW limited the model's production to just one year. All told, only 740 units made it to the States, and each was gobbled up at a starting price of $46,135, a price tag history will show to be a bargain.
Since I had little hope of even driving one again, I deliberately pushed all memories of BMW's 1 Series M Coupe from my mind - until my phone rang recently. On the other end was a representative from Dinan Engineering who wanted to know if I would be interested in driving the company's new S3-R BMW 1M. A quick Google search revealed it to be a heavily modified version of the discontinued 1 Series M Coupe. As if they needed an answer...

Mini has become the Rover that BMW always wanted

BMW has been working for 20 years to build a successful line of British cars, and on the evidence of the second-generation Mini Clubman, it may have finally done it. That means it's time for all of us to get used to the fact that Minis aren't going to be that small anymore. Case in point is this new Mini Clubman, introduced last month and conspicuous by its size. Many of us who've pointed to BMW's stewardship of Mini as an example of retro done right bemoaned the Countryman subcompact SUV – a concept actually ahead of its time. The Coupe and Roadster, perhaps rightfully, deserved (and received) an eye roll. But now there's a so-called four-door hardtop that went on sale this year and this forthcoming, six-door Clubman that approaches the compact hatchback class in size. These vehicles actually look like practical moves at keeping buyers from defecting to larger cars made by someone else, rather than vain attempts at maximizing investment in a set of parts. And in an interesting twist, Mini is turning into one of its ancestors – minus the feeling of inevitable doom. Many of us were led to believe somewhere since Mini's relaunch about 15 years ago that the brand would be a stepping stone into the greater BMW fold. But in reality, it's done exactly the opposite, creating a parallel brand for those not willing to embrace the BMW image, but leaning heavily on British nostalgia. That was sort of the reasoning used when BMW pulled the Rover Group of England away from a fruitful partnership with Honda in 1994 and absorbed it all. In the consolidate-or-die '90s, it made sense. BMW had a small, but successful, line of sedans. Rover had no success outside of Western Europe (its last US attempt at selling cars, the Sterling, ended three years earlier). Yet its Land Rover line of SUVs was just right for the time and the 35-year-old Mini still had image-conscious clout. With every passing day, the brilliance of BMW's move to abandon Rover in 2000 seems brighter. Even ditching Land Rover made sense in the long run (and probably saved Jaguar in the process). With every passing day, the brilliance of BMW's move to abandon Rover in 2000 seems brighter. During a chat with Mini USA VP David Duncan this summer, it became clear the Mini of the past is probably gone. A small, city-sized Mini is not necessarily off the table, but larger and more profitable models are coming first.