Dash For Cache

TUCKED AWAY IN THE GERMAN COUNTRYSIDE LIES THE WORLD’S MOST OUTRAGEOUS PRIVATE COLLECTION OF BMW M1 PARTS. WE SENT ROBBO IN A MINT-CONDITION M1 TO SNIFF OUT THIS MOTHER OF ALL BARN FINDS

- Peter Robinson

WHEN I FIRST lay eyes on the M1, it’s pointing nose out in front of the BMW Classic service area. I’ve waited 40 years to drive this car – BMW’s rare mid-engined coupe – and for the next two days, this white 1980 M1 is mine. But something prevents me from rushing to the driver’s door. Some secret power forces me to pause, to savor its slender form, to absorb Giugiaro’s masterpiece.

Better to slowly walk around it, soaking up the gentle wedge, recognizing the importance of the slim, horizontal line that runs the full length of the body and connects so many different elements of the M1’s so-pure shape. Then walk around it again, discovering and drinking in the exquisite detail: the tiny graceful kidneys in the so-low nose, the various air slots and openings that are both functional and beautiful, and the perfectly positioned BMW roundels, one on each rear corner.

Is it flawless, I wonder? It’s certainly timeless and supremely elegant. Only as I get closer do I appreciate just how low it is: at 1140mm tall, the M1 is a staggering 154mm (that’s six inches!) lower than a 911.

They only hand me the keys when it’s time to leave. Perhaps to lower my expectations, I remind myself that the M1 was conceived as a race car and then made to conform to the road. More, this is the car that famously launched the magical letter M to enthusiasts and, not coincidentally, BMW Motorsport.

Despite the M1’s ultra-low profile, getting in is easy through the large door openings, and there’s plenty of room in the relatively plain cabin. Excellent forward visibility through the huge windscreen is a supercar bonus. To the rear? Not so good. Compromises are few; wheel arch intrusion means the pedals are offset and clutch travel is so long that my leg is almost straight when I shift up through the gears.