Don’t buy an E36 M3 from Michigan in January

February 1, 2020

Back when I was selling cars part-time, I had the opportunity to drive a different car every month or so. At one point a 1998 BMW M3 crossed my path and I was hooked. The best way that I could describe that car was that it was the most perfectly balanced car I’d ever had: the engine, transmission, and handling were all perfectly in sync with each other. After a month or so, I sold that car and moved on to other vehicles, but it never left the back of my mind.

Fast forward several years and I’d finally found another 1998 BMW M3 and made it my own. However, on a cold December day I totaled it, and was again without an M3.

This time around, I couldn’t let years pass before I had another M3, and so my search began immediately. One night while searching on Facebook marketplace, I typed in the name of my small town and hit enter. To my surprise, a 1999 BMW M3 popped up. I couldn’t believe it. Then I read the description a little closer. The car was in Michican. I live in Missouri. The name of the town was the same, but Facebook had auto-populated the state wrong.

However, once I had seen the car, I couldn’t un-see it. I messaged the owner, who turned out to be a really cool car enthusiast who had several E36 M3’s and was parting with one of them to make room for more projects. After some chatting and a video walk-around, I was booking flights to Michigan.

Our plan was to fly to Michigan, complete the purchase, and then drive home in one day. Initially, everything went as planned. We landed in Michigan, got picked up at the airport by the seller, rode with him to his our, looked the car over, loaded it up, and were on our way.

About an hour into our drive we heard a strange clanking noise while passing a semi. Initially I thought it was a chain on the truck we were passing, since the noise went away after we passed him. Then, a minute or so later, it came back, accompanied with a huge steam cloud billowing out of our car. We pulled over, noticing that the battery light had come on (meaning the alternator wasn’t charging) and that we were (obviously) losing a lot of coolant.

A quick inspection revealed that the fan had hit the shroud and become lodged in it. I also saw that the serpentine belt was broken. I suspected that either the fan clutch had died and killed the water pump, or vice verse.

Before I could look up tow companies on my phone, we had red and blue lights behind us. An officer walked up and asked if we were OK. Evidently, someone had seen the steam and thought our car was on fire and called it in, because a short time later two fire trucks showed up and we had fire fighters with heat guns scoping out my engine.

After getting the all clear from the fire fighters and a call to a tow company from the officer, all we had to do was wait for the tow. I’d brought basic tools with us for emergency repairs, but wasn’t outfitted to swap the water pump, so we towed the car to the nearest hotel.

The next morning we discovered we were in a tiny town with only a handful of shops. I called several of them, but they were either busy or not interested in working on a BMW. I finally found a shop, a two-person tire store with a mechanic, willing to do the job. We towed the car to their shop and were told it’d be done by 5:00 PM. We also decided to replace the tensioners, pulleys and thermostat since I had no idea when they had last been done. We planned to hit the road right after it was done, to beat some incoming Michigan winter weather.

Around 4:30 PM, after we’d check out of our hotel room and killed a few hours in the lobby, we got a call from the shop. Apparently, they had not ordered the gasket for the thermostat housing and wouldn’t have that in hand. I told them to cut out a gasket or use RTV, but they said it was against their policy to not use specified parts. Frustrated, I realized they weren’t going to change their mind and I agreed to wait until the next morning when they’d have the needed gasket. We spent another night in the hotel.

The next morning we got the call around 11:30 AM that the repairs were done. We headed over to the shop and loaded up and were on our way home for the second time.

This time we drove about 5 hours, reaching Missouri, and only 3 hours from home, when the winter weather we’d been dreading hit. The snow began coming down faster than the plows could keep up, and soon we were resigned to following semi truck tracks to know where our lane was.

Needing fuel, we pulled over in the small town of Hannibal, Missouri (hometown of Mark Twain!). After a quick chat, we decided that the wisest decision was to call it a night and try again in the morning. We found a close hotel and checked in for the night. On a positive note, we found an awesome local restaurant, the Mark Twain Brewery, and had an awesome burger and salad.

The next morning we were on our way around 9:00 AM after giving the plows a few hours to get the roads clear. We drove the last three hours home without incident, hitting some more snow right as we were arriving at home. The worst road we faced was our own driveway.