1998 BMW 540i Long-Term Road Test: 40,000-Mile Wrap

From the April 1998 issue of Car and Driver.

“This is a car you could live with forever,” writes Phil Berg in the long-term logbook. A glance at the spec sheet or a 10-mile test drive suggests he’s right. BMW’s 540i six-speed sedan has it all—room for five, aggressive good looks, and a tantalizingly smooth brute of a V-8 engine.

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After naming the rejuvenated 5-series to our 10Best Cars list in 1997, we ordered a 540i—with the six-speed manual gearbox, of course—for a 40,000-mile test. Although this car verges on perfection, we still had questions that needed answers. How much would the 540i’s performance cost us over the long haul? How would the powerful rear-driver behave during the ice-bound Michigan winter? And—here’s the biggie, kids—would the flimsy-looking cup holders steady our morning coffee?

The silver bullet (it only looks silver; the color is called Glacier Green) arrived in impeccable condition. Once upon a time, the manual gearbox was standard and the automatic was extra. But our six-speed 540i’s $55,678 base price is $4050 more than the automatic’s ($1404 of the difference is accounted for by the manual’s gas-guzzler tax, and the manual also gets a sport-tuned suspension, 8.0-by-17-inch aluminum wheels, and 235/45ZR-17 tires). Additionally, our 540i was outfitted with a premium stereo ($1620), optional “comfort seats,” which include adjustable lumbar support ($1296), and heating for the seats and steering wheel ($702), bringing the price to $59,296.

At the track when new, the 3768-pound sedan whooshed to 60 mph in 5.5 seconds and turned the quarter-mile in 14.1 seconds at an even 100 mph. Skidpad grip measured a sports-car-like 0.84 g. A governor reigned in top speed at 155 mph. (We’d love to see what the 540i would do unharnessed.)

From the outset, one complaint went against the constant grain of praise. The clutch, which is extremely light, is also very sensitive, and it requires a deft touch to shift smoothly between first and second gears. It felt as though the car were powered by a small engine with a light flywheel, not by an engine with the rotational mass of the 4.4-liter V-8. This is not to say it felt as if the clutch were worn or broken—just a bit touchy. We had hoped it might wear in with the passage of miles.

Owners of BMWs are not nailed down to precise service schedules. The computer in every BMW records the habits of its drivers; it takes into consideration the number of cold starts and city driving versus highway driving and then alerts the owner when it’s time for a service. Switch the ignition key to the “on” position—without firing up the engine—and a row of five green LED lights appear on the dash. As the miles go by, each of the lights eventually goes dark, one by one, until the row of them are gone, and then a single yellow light appears telling the driver it’s time for service.

The computer light ordered our first service at 9553 miles on the odometer, following trips to Columbus, Toronto, and New York City (where a flat tire served to demonstrate how easy the jack is to use with the full-size spare). The first service includes an engine-oil change, an oil-filter swap, and new oil for the differential. Our dealer didn’t change the diff fluid, citing a service bulletin that said it was unnecessary. We paid $69, but that bulletin was issued in error, so the first stop should have cost us $106.

Remarkably, that little yellow light did not illuminate again until 12,045 miles and four months later. Obviously, we were racking up a lot of low-stress highway mileage.

That second visit was a bit more complicated. Along with an oil and filter change and replacement of the interior air filters, a laundry list of inspections is undertaken—everything from the airbags to the rear axle gets a going-over. At that point, our 540i was roaring efficiently and powerfully across the landscape, true to its Ultimate Driving Machine reputation, but a few niggling problems had arisen. From time to time, the trunk release would decline to work, and natch, when we showed up at the dealer’s for that second stop, it worked just fine—only now the left-rear window refused to go down. Seems the module that tells the window when to work had malfunctioned, causing the window motor and regulator to fail. The $650 replacement of the module, regulator, and window motor was covered under the four-year or 50,000-mile warranty. The rest of that routine service put a $444 hole in our pocket, although it did include a set of new wiper blades for $20.

Rants and Raves

If somebody’s looking for “beef on wheels” with protein to spare, this is the most muscular yet gracious near-super sedan around. –Griffin

The slack in the seatbelts can result in their getting caught in the doors. As a result, both inside door panels have been damaged. –Idzikowski

During a hurricane-force rainstorm, the wipers worked fantastically—far better than the Mercedes-Benz mono-blade. –Markus

No sedan in my experience is as satisfying, performance-wise, and as practical, passenger-wise, as the 540i with the six speed manual. However, if you have passengers, using first gear almost always snaps their necks, unless you slip the clutch like crazy. As much as I love the gearbox linkage and clutch, I think a five-speed automatic is the way to go, and it pains me to say that. –Phillips

Climate-control system doesn’t work well. In “auto” mode, you still have to set fan speed and turn on the air conditioning. Got 27 mpg, though, on a highway jaunt. –Nevin

Love the heated seats and steering wheel. –Maki

At 24,991 miles, we lost a radio knob and broke the cup holder (horrors!). Replacement of the knob cost just $5.51, and the cup holder was fixed under warranty. One of our questions had been answered.

Praise of the sort usually reserved for Mother Teresa and Barry Sanders continued to turn the logbook into a gothic romance. “I love the heated steering wheel,” reported Dworin. “I love this car because it’s a refined and amazingly fast sports car inside a sedan body,” wrote another. Five people will fit in a pinch, but the car is far more comfortable as a four-passenger car. The engine only gets the Nobel Prize for heroic performance, but also warms up quickly on frozen mornings, and within a few miles it’s pumping out serious heat.

That’s the romance level we’d floated off to when—reality check—the clutch went off to auto-parts heaven. Funeral services were held at precisely 30,377 miles—a tad early for any clutch to go bye-bye. But let’s do a bit of honest waffling: The 24 zany enthusiasts who drove it over nine months didn’t exactly treat it with the sensitivity afforded to, oh, an egret mired in an oil spill. In short, it is nearly impossible to resist driving this car hard. So we also warped the flywheel. Repairs put our Michigan flier into the hospital for a week and set us back a steep $1653. Since the failure of the clutch could not be attributed to a defect in its manufacture, it wasn’t covered by the warranty. The new clutch didn’t make the tricky transition between first and second any easier to do. We still had to concentrate.

Most guys with 30,000 miles on their cars can show you bills for four maintenance stops, but the little yellow light summoned our third visit at 32,629 miles—another $69 oil and filter change. Plus, our efficient dealer found a faulty trunk-release button and then successfully tracked the source of an exhaust rattle to the catalytic converter. Its ceramic guts had broken up.

The dealer had neither the converter nor the release button on his shelf, so we had to wait—while 1300 miles blew by. Had we gone over the 50,000-mile warranty barrier, by the way, a new catalytic converter would have set us back $1450—ouch—although the trunk-release button rates only a $70 replacement tab.

With just 10 miles to go before the odo tripped 40,000 miles, the observant Larry Griffin noticed fluid oozing from the left-front wheel center, and the replacement of the failed wheel bearing was covered under warranty. Without the warranty, it would have cost $370.

We liked having to make only three maintenance stops in 40,000 miles, and the tab of $599 seemed reasonable considering the 540i’ s barrel-chested performance. Our long-term Mercedes-Benz E320, which was far less speedy, cost $1004 for its service, and our long-term Jaguar XJ6 cost $1411 to maintain. Both required five scheduled stops.

Our unscheduled stops, however, started us wondering about the potential long-term costs of owning a car that loves to run hard but gives up parts in the process. Also, the stock tires would need replacing after 35,000 miles of constant use (we used snow tires for a large portion of this test, so our tires didn’t wear out). A new set of Pirelli P6000s will set you back $896. Had the maniacs around here driven her too hard? And what constitutes too hard in a car that announces itself as an Ultimate Driving Machine? Clearly, the 540i is an expensive car. Still, it’s one of the few cars costing nearly 60 grand that the paupers around here think is worth every dime.

With its long journey at an end, we returned our 540i to the track. Acceleration improved by a tenth of a second to 60 mph (5.4 seconds versus 5.5), and grip on the skidpad increased to an amazing 0.87 g, up from its debut performance of 0.84 g.

BMW has some good news for potential buyers put off by what they see as the high price of glorified oil changes. Beginning with 1998 BMWs, scheduled maintenance is free during the warranty. We love this car, but it’s given us a better understanding of the old saying “You gotta pay to play.”

Baubles and Bolt-Ons

Engine: “Tell a Friend!” announces the Tornado brochure. “More Power, More Mileage, Pays for Itself!”

The Tornado is a sheetmetal fan blade from Tornado Air Management Systems (562-926-5000). It mounts just downstream of the air filter in the engine’s intake system, and it doesn’t rotate. It retails for $70, plus $7 shipping and handling, regardless of size. The theory is this: As intake air passes over the fan blade, the airflow changes from a straight flow to a swirling flow. This swirling air is supposed to atomize the fuel better, making for more complete combustion. And better combustion yields more power and better fuel economy.

We ordered a Tornado for our long-term 540i and went straight to a chassis dyno. The guys at PowerCurve in Fraser, Michigan, hooked up the Bimmer and performed two runs to establish baseline horsepower and torque curves. Both runs were about identical.

Next, we installed the Tornado. We followed the manufacturer’s instructions to the letter. Again, we performed two dyno runs. There was absolutely no change in horsepower or torque.

Our next test measured fuel economy. Using Chrysler’s oval test track, we circled at a steady 70 mph for 40 miles and recorded an average 25.8 miles per gallon without the Tornado. With the Tornado installed, we recorded the identical 25.8-mpg reading over the 40 miles. So much for theories.

Tires: Piloting a high-performance rear-wheel-drive car in a Michigan snowstorm can be a frightening experience, so we ordered some trick snow tires—four Pirelli Winter 210 Asimmetricos.

This tire is designed to enhance traction in the wet and snow without seriously sacrificing dry-weather handling. The tires are rated for speeds up to 130 mph. The outer tread blocks are large, and they’re joined together by a narrow band of rubber to provide a stiff shoulder. Smaller inner tread blocks provide more bite on the slippery stuff. The rubber compound is softer than that of a typical all-season tire, and it’s uniform over the depth of all treads.

Editor Csere reported, “The combination of the BMW traction control and the Pirelli 210 tires works very well in the snow. The 540i is one of the few rear-drive cars that can make it up my steep driveway when it’s covered with four inches of the white stuff.” Does Csere think he could have made it up his driveway with the stock tires? “Not a chance,” he says.

On a dry skidpad, the Pirellis give up little in lateral adhesion, producing 0.82 g versus the stock tires’ 0.84 g. We expect the tires would last for about 35,000 miles in our hard-charging hands.

Each Pirelli Winter 210 Asimmetrico in the 235/45HR-17 size will set you back $190. Sounds steep, but considering what it would cost to repair this BMW after a slide into oblivion, it begins to sound a tad more reasonable.

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Source: Reviews - aranddriver.com