Have you ever tried to take a meaningful test drive in the heart of a major city? It’s not easy to accomplish, what with block-by-block stop signs, cyclists sharing the road, pedestrians at every crosswalk, and the general pervasive congestion that comes with dense, urban living. Still, plan carefully, and it is possible to get a meaningful taste of your test vehicle among the hum and pulse of the city. And that is what I did today with the rare and often praised BMW 1M. I was so impressed with this little M that I’ll call this drive the first taste because I want more.
The white 1M—as everyone knows it—is technically a 2011 BMW 1 Series M Coupe. It has a little less than 35k miles on the clock and appears to have been very well kept, though some of the normal wear-and-tear you’d expect in a five-year-old car does show. The wheels are nicked on multiple corners, the steering wheel leather is getting shiny with age, the brakes are due for replacement soon, and the engine oil pan is seeping oil and needs eventual attention. (BMW’s of this generation seem to have chronic problems with leaking seals, if my personal experience with replacing rear differential and transmission seals on my E90 M3 is any indication.) But a five-year-old car is not going to be perfect, so let’s move on.
What’s good about this little rocket? The 1M’s cabin feels snug and cozy, especially to me, as all the cars I’ve owned in the last decade were 4 and 5-door models. With the 1-series being BMW’s cheapest car, I expected a budget interior, but I found some nice touches in this M that give it an air of specialness. Alcantara trims the dash and the doors, imbuing a racy look and premium feel that surpasses BMW’s standard plastic and leather. Orange stitching accents the shift boot and seats, referencing the 1M’s signature Valencia Orange paint (not present on my test car). (Black and white were the only other “colors” in which the 1M was offered.) The 1M inherits many components from its big brother, the E90 M3, including the M3’s fantastic plump-and-plush steering wheel. And while the 1M’s sports seats are not the bespoke units from the M3, these downmarket seats are a better fit to my slim frame and offer excellently affectionate side bolstering. Advantage 1M for coming with buckets that are ready for sports driving. (Too bad they are upholstered in BMW’s standard rough and waxy leather.)
I did not expect this little Bimmer to have adult-usable rear seats, but its awkwardly tall greenhouse actually results in enough ceiling clearance for me to sit on the rear bench without slouching. (I admit my hair is brushing the headliner.) Equally surprising is that I am semi-comfortable sitting behind a seat that has been adjusted for a 6’ 0” tall driver. My knees are touching the front seat, but I’m not too bunched up and can imagine taking a 30-minute ride without complaint. The rear space is quite commendable, actually!
The trunk is certainly large enough to accommodate the luggage of two adults on a romantic weekend getaway or even the large baby stroller the couple might own a year later. But getting two new parents and an infant comfortably seated in the 1M will be tricky; there doesn’t appear to be enough legroom for both a rear-facing infant seat and a front passenger.
Well, now that I have burnt precious time and words on the virtues and vices of a stationary 1M, let’s get on with it and discuss how the car is to drive!
After adjusting all the controls, I power up the engine. The 1M is surprisingly quiet and comfortable as I negotiate the lights and stop signs of San Francisco’s Inner Sunset on the way to my carefully chosen driving route. BMW’s ABS-based hill assist helps me with uphill starts; no need to show off my hard-won handbrake skills to keep from rolling back into the car behind. The experience in the cabin is refined; I am neither buffeted nor abused as I drive over broken city pavement. My rock-hard Focus RS should be ashamed by how pleasant the 1M is to drive around town. In fact, my competition pack M3 is getting shown up too!
BMW only sold the 1 Series M Coupe with a six-speed manual gearbox and, next to the Focus RS’s shifter, which is my point-of-reference these days, the BMW’s stick feels shorter in stature (closer to the transmission tunnel) yet has marginally longer throws. BMW is known for making lanky and marginally rubbery shifters, and I admit the proverbial “rifle-bolt” feel is missing from the transmission. Still, it’s a precise and easy unit to row, free of binding and snagging, and there is a reasonable amount of mechanical feel to the shift action. The clutch catches higher off the floor than I expect but is easy to use and engages over a broad range of the pedal stroke. I’d like it to be a little tighter, but there is really nothing to complain about here.
My plan to avoid a numbingly boring test drive is to string together the broad sweeping boulevards laid along Mt Sutro’s flanks. Clarendon Ave is the first in the lineup, and I punch it on its opening straightaway. The 1M squats, growls, and bolts! In a word, the twin-turbo 3.0L engine is torquey! As the tachometer needle performs its long sweep across the dial, it could either be measuring the quickly climbing rpm or the rapidly growing width of my smile. Some people derided BMW for using a standard-issue N54 six-cylinder turbo engine in an M car, but in this tune, it has enough grunt and, more importantly, character to please. The song is clearly and deliciously inline-six, reminding me of the E46 M3, but without the rasp. The 1M doesn’t seem to be giving up any accelerative ground to the M3 either; especially at low and mid-range rpm, the turbo surge makes the 1M scat. Here is a car that neither feels under nor overpowered. It has the right moves for some enthusiastic fun.
Climbing the hairpins to Twin Peaks, I am incredulous when I see the yellow traction-control light flickering on the dashboard. Why is traction-control pulling power at this moderate pace? BMW’s programming is dumbly overprotective in my M3, but the 1M can’t be this traction limited or torquey that I risk spinning with partial throttle at 3k rpm. A press of the M button on the steering wheel turns on Sport mode and slightly loosens the TC’s iron grip, but the flashing light and pulled throttle are still constant cornering companions. Point the 1M straight and mat the throttle, and the computers stay quiet. Mix any steering angle with gas, and the flashing reignites. (I’m told that the Michelin Pilot Super Sports tires are brand new, perhaps they need to scrub in before they have grip?)
Past Twin Peak’s summit, O’Shaughnessy links long, constant radius sweepers along the rim of Glen Canyon. This is my chance to explore the chassis. I find classic BMW balance, flowing and smooth. The evenly weighted front and rear axles are stable and unruffled with my moderated driving. (The TC light keeps chattering, though.) The shared parentage between the M3 and 1M is evident: The two cars navigate a corner with similar level poise, though the 1M feels a smidge more eager to enter the turn. I chalk it up to the lighter weight and shorter wheelbase.
On Portola’s rough pavement, I sample the steering feel. The experience in the 1M is highly similar to the M3’s, with many fine details being filtered away but the most significant imperfections transmitted through to my fingertips. The on-center quickness and steering precision are identical to the M3’s too. Along with brakes and suspension, do these cars share steering gear?
When I lived in San Francisco a few years ago, I’d often see some antisocial jerk flogging his M3 up Market St at double the speed limit, engine snarling at redline. “Typical BMW douche bag!” I’d think. Today I am that jerk, blazing up the hill in the white 1M. Oh, it’s good, fast, guilty fun. The power is stout and only tapers slightly before the limiter. It is amazing how right the N54 engine is in the 1M. It has a low-end punch missing from the S65 V8 of my M3, it sounds way better than the S55 twin-turbo six from the current M3/M4, and it has a sharper off-boost response than little turbo fours that are so common today. Yes, the N54’s twin-turbos trade boosted torque for the S65’s sharp throttle response, electrifying top-end shove, and howling arias. Still, the 1M’s six-cylinder avoids feeling anemic below the boost threshold and is progressive, controlled, and predictable as the turbos spool. I can love the N54 for what it is.
I finish the test drive with one more pass over Twin Peaks. My god, San Francisco’s long vistas are beautiful on this crisp winter day! Tony Bennett could have been singing to me when he crooned, “I left my heart in San Francisco.” I’ve succeeded in threading the needle through crowded SF, avoiding rush hour traffic and exploring the dynamics of this little car.
I really like the flavor of this 1M. It is a tightly wrapped package with the cabin and seats fitting snugly around the driver. The controls—steering wheel and shifter—are great and fall perfectly into hand. The smooth and fluid steering avoids being hyper-reactive or oversensitive. And the relaxed ride is only occasionally harsh over bad pavement. (Somehow, this Bimmer is devoid of the creaks and rattles which plague my M3.) It’s easy to see this car as a personalized sporting experience, using a great old-school recipe: hydraulic steering, non-adjustable suspension, RWD chassis, and a six-speed manual transmission. Plus, the M has a dual-mode personality which makes it easy to use as a comfy daily driver. It’s relaxed when cruising and lively when flogged.
Where does the 1M fall short? Theatrics: It doesn’t have a big chassis-rocking V8 to make even the most mundane outing an event. And while it looks good, the styling is a bit of an acquired taste, with its frumpy tummy bulge and droopy-eyes headlights. In this regard, using the 1M around town might become dull with familiarity. But at least I’d wouldn’t be abused by the ride.
Then there’s the problem of the 1M’s successor, the M2. 1Ms have hardly deprecated in the last five years, and a new M2 with a warranty and updated power and electronics is only incrementally more expensive. I haven’t driven the new model, but I suspect the 1M is the better choice because of its hydraulic steering. Plus, with less than 800 1Ms sold in America, the 1M should continue to be a cult classic.
Prologue:
Five days have passed since this test drive, and while I can’t get the 1 Series M Coupe out of my head, my feelings are becoming more clinical and skeptical with time. Can the 1M really justify its premium price against the M2 or similar vintage M3? M3s of similar age are $15k cheaper! Also, where is the jaw-dropping point of excellence for the 1M? It doesn’t have a shiver-inducing engine like the M3 or road feel for days like the Lotus Elise. The closest thing I found was the way the car wrapped itself around me like a well-tailored suit. Finally, my test was done with ESP on at responsible speeds on public roads. Is there a whole new character to unlock by driving the 1M irresponsibly? I expect so.
After some test drives—Lotus Elise, McLaren 570GT—my memories grow warmer, and I find myself transformed into a devotee of the model. The 1M has not captured me with one short first taste.
Mike's Steering Column 