cireimagined

[cireimagined]

to tune of Chumbawamba ‘Tubthumping’:

I get sucked off

[cireimagined]

Lol I gave up and bought a Toyota #grsupra

[cireimagined]

Trim and Proper

The major glaring problem with my car at first glance has been due to the trims decay. The pillar trim fabric has become delaminated from being sun-beaten and baked for 16 years. The same process turned my fender indicators the same color as a smokers teeth, with the headlights fogging over. The clear coat has flaked off of the roof rail trim, and the top of my drivers side bumper. The center console trim coating is scratched to hell, as if the prior owner was a werewolf. The only saving grace the car has physically is that the clear coat on the steel body is still in great condition, saved the fate of the plastic painted trim. 

In short, it’s the little details that send a worse image of this car than it deserves.

These are the small projects I now must work on to fix if I have any hope of bringing this car back to the glory it once carried.

    To begin this process of reconditoning, I started small. I swapped out my fender-mounted indicators which had badly yellowed, for brand new ones from the dealer. Swapping these out was a ridiculously simple process. With the trim-popper tool that came in my BavSound tool kit from installing my iPod integration, I made quick work to pop out the old indicators. They were spring loaded and clipped right in, so re-installation was easy.

    To my surprise, these new indicators came with bulbs installed. A hitch! Alas! However, the indicators twisted onto the bulb mounting, and pulled out of there. With the cable danging down my fender in the Rusnak BMW parking lot, I garnered a couple glances from salesmen across the lot. No matter, as the indicator was now installed. Put the back clip in the fender, and ease the front end with the metal clip in.

*pling* and it was in. The other side went quicker due to the experience gained from the passenger side.

When all was said and done, I was left with a bag of fender indicator bulbs from my old indicators.

However, the next tangible step for my car was to replace the poor, scratched to hell center console. I picked the parts up from Rusnak, and as before I immediately took to replacing them in the parking lot. Yet, getting out this key piece of trim required some Olympics level gymnastics. I had to put the car in neutral, with the key in and E-Brake engaged to get enough wiggle room to lift the selecter boot to unscrew the window trim panel and move it back, to access the lower screws that hold the console in place. With those unscrewed, I had to tug the old upper cubby out by the door (don’t worry-that’s how it’s installed) and cast it into the shadow realm.

After that, I had to do two more screws and then I was home free-until I discovered that I had to put the car in drive, and pull the trim pieces enough lee-way to get the piece forward enough to undo the cables for the lower instrument panel and cigarette lighter that sits next to the ashtray.

Now free from all tethers, I had to transpose the panel to my new piece. Two Torx T10s later, and it was out, then immediately into the new piece waiting for it. Yet, I had to get out the cigarette lighter from the old piece. Held in by two prongs with small teeth, the simplest solution was to simply break off one of the prongs holding it into the old piece. That did it. One satisfying snap later, and it was free and slid down into the new piece followed by a satisfying click of engagement.

The time for reinstallation was at hand, and with some clever handwork needed to reinstall the cables and get it in the dash to clear the lower console and shifter plate. Success! I then repeated the process of installation, however choosing to screw it in on the bottom, before the top. When it was buttoned back up, the car showed a glimpse of both its past and its future.

[cireimagined]

I Can Breathe Easy Now SMOG Is Done

So, I finally had an open schedule on Friday afternoon to take my car to get SMOG tested. I returned to the same station that left me disappointed a few weeks prior. I drove the car back to the test station, and got out to let the shop technician work his magic on my car. I handed him the prior paperwork, and while he prepared the computer, I prepared my car. Opened the hood, and looked down to see a broken vacuum tube leading off my intake manifold. FUCK. I hope he doesn’t see this.

    He didn’t. Thanks to the technicality last time of none of the OBD II systems being ready to test, the car passed very easily. I inconspicuously snapped a picture while he was revving the car for the computer and sent it to Rob. I was beside myself to see yet another broken hose after spending so much to bring this car back from the edge. After I paid for the re-test, I hauled myself over to Bimmer Connection. Rob had a look around, and poked around. He said he’d look at it when it returns. Robs approach was that of a parent on their child's injury. Walk it off, and I’ll look at it later.

    I sent it to Mike Rice after I got back to the office, and found the cause of this. Fuel pressure regulator hose. Using vacuum pressure from the intake to manage the fuel system. Brilliant in the design, but regardless I had another vacuum leak. It was Sunday afternoon by the time he messaged me to propose a band-aid fix for this.

    A golf-tee.

    Yes, a golf tee.

    I set out the front door with vinyl tape, and a wooden golf tee from my dads golf bag. This is the single most punk-rock repair this car has ever seen. With this band-aid repair facilitated with clogging the tee in the end of the hose. After a brief test drive, it proved its worth as a band-aid fix. Right now, that tee is holding itself in, solidly until it gets looked at this Thursday.

[cireimagined]

Ronnie Talk To Rusnak

So, by now you are probably asking yourself to what end this will reach. The why, is pretty obvious: I love this car. I love this car for what it is, as well as loving how it drives. The E46 was the torch-bearer of the halcyon days of old BMW, when the goal to make “The Ultimate Driving Machine” was held above all else. This was a car made by people who truly gave a shit about what they were making. It’s clearly a designers car. The driver-oriented instrument panel is simple in operation. The CD-Radio is no-frills. It’s a car with everything you’d want for the road, and nothing that you wouldn’t need. Single-zone climate control, trip computer sitting off your left index finger.

Sublime simplicity, and the handling is communicative as well. 230 well placed horsepower that are very easily accessible as well. Any more power in a package such as this would be merely too much. The car is as happy on an hour of canyon storming in the Santa Monica mountains as it is slipping from Laguna Seca to Culver City in the dead of the night. It’s a quiet, demure car as much as it is a riotous canyon carver. It is a car that is as much Darling Nikki as it is Let’s Go Crazy.

In addition, it made financial sense for me to go at it like this. The car, on average had cost me less than $1,000 a year to keep running for maintenance and repairs for the last 5 years I had owned it. With the major repair necessitated by the crankcase vent valve causing me to re-evaluate the plans to jump for a 128i (To find one of these equipped the way my car was would have been a major project), I was forced to look back at the here and now, rather than a moderately lofty goal.

But why? Because I like the car. I know what I am doing does nothing to add to the resale value of the car (like I’d let it go), and want to do what I always wanted to. Now I have a good job and am making good money-it makes sense to sure it up now to go for 200k miles. It’s at low miles for the age, and I really enjoy the car still.

Where am I going with this? I’m hoping to go for a replica Alpina B3 look. I found a replica of the lip splitter and spoiler on eBay for cheap, and will have those painted when I get the bumpers taken care of. The car will need new front and rear bumpers due to accumulated damage. The front is shot due to low curbs and parking stops destroying the mounting points for the front aerodynamic fairings, and the rear is shot due to backing into a low mounted something or other at CSU Channel Islands.

For the interior, the door seals and pillar trim need to be replaced. In addition, the door lock actuator on the drivers side is shot. Due to the overlap of in parts in this area, it makes sense to do this job over a weekend due to the shared disassembly. For example, to do the inner door seal, the A and B pillar trim must be removed to access it. In addition, to replace the dried rubber trim outside the car, to access the chrome roof trim, the door seals must be removed. As such, it makes sense to just do it all at once. If I could un-fuck my sunroof myself, then doing this with a hand should be no issue.

With this, there are some frivolous extras I want to do. E46 M3 seats to replace my cracked, unraveling bolsters is second on my list to the BavSound stereo kit they sell. It makes sense to do that when I do my interior trim, due to the general dismantling of the interior. I made a concise spreadsheet of the parts and the cost of them. With my dad the getting parts at employee discount, it makes sense to buy them myself and then install them later.

Alpina B3 3.3 in Titanium Silver Metallic

The gentle Alpina splitter is visible here.

The rear spoiler clearly visible here. My goal to replicate the Alpina turbofan wheels is to find some BMW Style 32 wheels.

[cireimagined]

Fun With SMOG and CARB

    With my new-found love of my car, I decided to make off for a SMOG station recommended by Rob, down the road from his shop. I went in, handed the old man running the station my keys and incomplete registration and walked off for a soda and ran into an old acquaintance.

    A few minutes later, the hubris and was shattered like a case of glass Christmas ornaments after a tumble down the stairs. The reason was simple: the OBD II systems, which had been cleared when Rob was working on my car had not all cycled through yet. All systems worked, and the cars exhaust was clean, but without the blessing of the diagnostics system-it was all for naught. Exalted in anger, I made a disturbingly obscene phone call home, where I screamed about Governor Brown and a horse. After I calmed down, I called Rob back, and explained what happened.

    From this, I learned about the whole protocol of the OBD II system set. It felt like the shitty first draft of the movie Speed. To set the several systems at once, BMW has a very specific drive cycle instruction.

    First, start the car and let it idle for 5 minutes: This sets the secondary air system that heats up the cats on cold start for a short time by pumping atmospheric air into the exhaust manifold to combust unburned, fuel rich exhaust gases. After this, the next step in these Russian dances is to drive around at 35 MPH, under 2,000 RPM the entire time, until the car reached temperature. From there, 65 MPH under 2,500 RPM to set the oxygen sensors, and from there, letting it idle for 5 minutes before shutoff.

    This required an early morning test route, or as I dubbed it, the Smog Loop, a wink at the NATO pilot testing ground in Wales.

    The route had been set the night before, just off of what would suitably set me for the perfect timing. Olsen Road to CA-23S for the post-idle warm up, and the bulk of the drive would be from CA-23S to US-101 N to Ventura, and wrapping back around on SR126 from Ventura to Fillmore, and back over CA-23S on Grimes Canyon, to it becoming a highway again, terminating at Rob’s shop. This neat loop would be good time to listen to a favorite podcast, Last Podcast On The Left, which had just begun a series on Jonestown.

    After this uneventful route was done, I was at the shop. All systems except my secondary air had set. With one system down, it would be possible to pass SMOG, but it was at the shops discretion. Rob said he’d call the shop and talk to them about passing. However, Kevin was more skeptical because it causes the state to look negatively at these lenient garages and the technicians performing the test.

    A few days later, Rob called with the answer: no. With this, there were more stringent instructions to follow to get the secondary air to set. However, these were almost draconian: The same test protocol as before, but the car had to idle for half an hour before the test route, and left to idle for another half hour at the end. His wording regarding why the SAS hadn’t set was due to “lazy” oxygen sensors in the exhaust, and the long idle was a good way for him to see how they were reacting.

    Finding a willing venue to let my car sit and idle for half an hour unoccupied was surprisingly easy. My dads dealer does a car show the third Saturday of every month, so with my usual routine being to leave my car parked in the service park the night before and riding in with him to help set up in the early morning, it was set. The moment I arrived that morning, I grabbed my keys, and walked over to my car. It was completely dewed over from the night before, and the paint held a matte frosting.

    I got in, turned the key, and let it sit. I set a timer on my watch for 30 minutes, and made off to help set up for the show. I’d periodically return and check on the car to see if anything happened. By the time the 30 minutes was up, we had our answer.

    “SERVICE ENGINE SOON” the amber light on the dash screamed. It was 7 AM. The garage doesn’t open for another hour and a half. With an answer, I had to wait another hour and a half for his shop to open for Saturday service. I bided my time, going through the meet on the other side of the wall, and observing all the gorgeous Porsches.

    I pulled into his shop a little before 8:30, due to my impatient, anxious nature. The OBD II reader was quick to come out and let us know the cause of this light. What was seen surprised nobody: faulty oxygen sensor heater, bank 2.

    The recommended service interval for these poor sensors is 100,000 miles-a milestone reached in December, 2013. I was at 153,000 miles and counting. These sensors had lived a life and a half, and were now in the way. Due to school starting two days from then, the soonest I could get it in was the following Tuesday. I drove to my first day of CSU Channel Islands with the light on, loud and proud.

    Like deja vu, I dropped the car off in the morning for the two upstream (pre-cat) oxygen sensors to be replaced and got the car back by lunchtime. The difference was surprisingly noticeable-the idle felt much smoother.

    I have yet to take it to get smogged, due to my school schedule and work schedule preventing me from going out and getting it done. As of the time of writing this my targeted goal is this Friday afternoon (February 2nd, 2018)

Major thanks to Rob and Kevin at Bimmer Connection, as well as Mike Rice and James Macintosh for patiently answering my questions regarding what exactly my car was doing and how to make it behave.

[cireimagined]

Dearly Beloved, We Are Gathered Here Today To Get Through This Thing Called Maitenance

So with getting my car back the following Wednesday, I was given a full sit-rep on what was found while my crankcase vent valve was being replaced due to the catastrophic vacuum leak..

The situation was grim: destroyed motor mounts (One collapsed, the other leaking fluid), control arm bushings were torn, and… it was due for an oil change by a few weeks.

    With my total change of heart settled on fixing the crankcase vent valve completely as opposed to the hose that triggered the misfire, I was settled on fixing the car up completely. If I start one job, then I might as well do them all. No stone un-turned, no job too small now. If I go for fixing this car up mechanically, I might as well go for it physically.

    The emergency surgery made an immediate, marked improvement on my experience with my car. The fixed crankcase vent valve had been forewarned by a couple CEL’s related to a lean running mixture, as well as the car *not* being happy idling at stoplights. However, despite the car being happier at stoplights, still communicated too much from the motor to the steering wheel due to the collapsed motor mounts.

    That Thursday, I dropped the car off at 8:30 on the dot so there was a full day and change to get it completed before I picked it up. I caught a ride to work, and immediately lamented my lack of freedom at work. I was relegated to getting a lamb shawarma on Doordash from the local kebab shop, and waiting for that delivery. The next day couldn’t come soon enough.

    When I pulled up to the shop the next day, I saw my car and was relieved. I saw Rob’s tech Kevin, and immediately asked him how it felt.

    “Like a completely different car.”

    I was skeptical. “Oh really?” I replied, as I walked into the small office where Rob sat. Rob has been my mechanic since the day I got my car. He’s an old friend of my dad, and really the reason why owning this car has been as reasonable as it has been for me. He worked on my dads old 335i before he mercifully riddled himself of that blight against the good name of German engineering, before we got my car. He worked for cash out of his home garage, and has been an absolute godsend at times. One such occasion was when he fixed a cracked radiator hose after I limped my car home one night and replaced the hose and lost coolant while the car sat dormant in front of the house.

    After the financials aspect of the job had been taken care of, I took the keys and walked to my car. Key in the door, twist and sit. Like a thousand and one times before, but this would be different. I just knew it. However, I was floored beyond my wildest belief. Key in the ignition, twist, and release. However, what met me when the car came to life was total serenity. There was no gentle buzz translated to the steering wheel from the motor. Just peace. There was a gentle hum in the cabin, but it was NOTHING compared to what the car was before.

    I then set off into this great beyond, devoid of NVH and was blown away by how good it was. With this, and an agenda to get it smog tested, I set off for what I thought was going to be an easy and fun afternoon with my newly mended car.

[cireimagined]

The First Week Of December, 2017 Was A Trying Time

Due to extensive wildfires in Ventura County, driven by late autumn wildfires I was enamored by the front-page headline happening right outside my front door. After work one day, I decided to go catch a glimpse of the fires near work. The orange glow of brush burning twenty miles away was absolutely hypnotizing.

However, one day after this I returned to my car to find it ran poorly. When it idled, it shook with the fury of an angry chihuahua, and it lacked power. I was able to limp it home, and shut it off, fuming. This stupid up motherfucking piece of shit that I was coerced into shit the bed again! I was absolutely beside myself at this point.

I had been having vibration issues for a little while, which caused me to look at other options than my beloved 330Ci. However, the issue I kept circling back to was that every car I looked at tied into the E46 somehow. The Cadillac ATS was dynamically benchmarked off of the E46. The BMW 128i was a smaller version based off the E90 chassis.

A few days later, my mechanic-Rob, who has been a friend for years called me with the diagnosis: a vacuum leak from the crankcase vent valve caused the car to idle rough, and it was quitting time. At this point, I was beside myself–yet again, because I faced a tough choice. A few weeks before this all happened, I had a friendly wager with my podcast cohosts that I’d still have my car by December, 2018. I vehemently disagreed and saw that the math would work to get a nice 128i to replace this “ailing” car.

This trip to the garage revealed a whole laundry list of issues that I’d let silently turn critical: a vacuum leak which caused the rough idle, a bad oil leak from the pan gasket area, broken control arm bushings, and a pair of collapsed and leaking motor mounts.

I faced a tough choice, and this blog will be about bringing this era-defining car back to its former glory.