BMW 316

The BMW 3 Series is everywhere these days. From diesel convertibles to carbon fibre-roofed M3s, it is a hugely popular status symbol that at one point was said to be outselling the Ford Mondeo. All-in-all the accomplished 3 we see in the showrooms these days make the little E21 of the seventies seem rather quaint. But this is where it all started for the baby Beemer, having been introduced to replace the 2002. To look at it is strangely reminiscent of the 1 Series coupe, which just goes to show how the 3 has bloated out over the years. 

The E21 is a neatly designed, rear-drive saloon that initially came with either a 1.6, 1.8, or 2.0-litre motor and an optional five-speed manual on the smaller engined cars (four gears was standard). It was partly responsible for pioneering the compact executive market, something that is massively lucrative today. One thing that the E21 had on its side was a low weight of just 1,010kgs – less than a new Ford Fiesta. This meant even the lowliest 1.6-litre was brisk, not to mention the ‘halo’ 125bhp 320i, and the car had the classic BMW handling characteristics.   

As with a lot of the sheds that pop up here, these used to be pretty common on UK roads but almost overnight seemed to have all but disappeared. In fact between 1975 and 1983 BMW managed to shift more than a million E21s. To find a decent one these days can be tricky, so I was amazed to find this decent-looking late-model 316 on eBay for £795. It’s got the 320i/323i quad headlamps (the 316s had just the two) for a bit more cred outside the wine bar but apart from that it seems pretty original. 

Depending on your taste a set of period alloys would finish it off nicely and despite the badge it’s a 1.8-litre, which had around 90bhp. There’s a year’s MOT and even a bit of tax, ‘tons of history’ and just 77,000 miles. What’s wrong with it? Well, it would appear not much. It needs balancing, the bonnet release doesn’t work and there’s a slight rattle from the clutch bearing. Apart from that there’s no rot and it appears to be running fine. So, a classic rear-drive early eighties BMW for less than £800, which if looked after can only go up in value. Almost seems a bit cruel to call it a shed… 

Ad Says: ‘In the words of an auctioneer friend of mine “where do you find em”.Well i found this one in the local rag a couple of months ago and it been stored for some time but properly,not in some underground damp trap.Let me tell you what i know about it.According to the receipt in the car old Brian bought this car at 2 years old for £5495 having traded in a Rover SD1 and a Mini to get it…so we can assume he was sensible!!

‘There is tons of history up until 2001 when it showed 62000 miles or just over 3000 mles a year.At this point Brian stopped driving and it was  used then stored by a relative who then it moved it on to a friend… who stored it… then it came to me.After fitting a new back box,wheel cylinders and handbrake cable(50 quids worth..practical or what) it was tested by my ex BMW dealer mechanic and failed on wiper blades which were duly replaced by BOSCH ones.During the test he became dizzy as he walked around and around the car trying to find rust or a dent as i did when i tried.Thats not say its blemish free but it really is outstanding and if you fancy one of these i just dont see you finding a better one.If it was a 320 or a 323 i would be in lottery winning mode.

‘Basically the car is ready to jump in and use although you would need to sort out the tax at some point as its disabled class(poor old Brian)..this is simply a letter/form to our friends at swansea as i recall. Recommend the front wheels being balanced ..not awful but just being honest.Bonnet release handle broke (thanks partner) but pair of pliers does the trick.There is a slight rattle from the clutch bearing when ticking over in neutral but it works perfectly. £795.’

BMW 3-Series E21

The BMW E21 was the original BMW 3-Series automobile, produced from 1975 to 1983. It replaced the BMW 2002 and was succeeded by the BMW E30. Worldwide sales of the E21 topped 1.36 million, although the car was not particularly popular in the lucrative United States market.

For the driving enthusiast the pick of the crop was most certainly the 323i, a car widely credited with being the first executive-sporting car. Previously, the British motor industry had come close to cracking the formula, producing cars such as Rover’s P5 (too soft for a sports car) and Triumph’s Dolomite (too raw as an executive). Had they moved their designs in just the right direction they could still be producing cars today. As it stands the combination of strong build quality, straight six power and, perhaps most importantly, rear-wheel drive, proved just the ticket for thrusting young executives needing the right combination of image and involvement until they could afford a 911.

Under the direction of a new 51% percent shareholder, Herbert Quandt, BMW decided upon a replacement for their ageing 2002 (a car very reminiscent of the Dolomite, and a classic in its own right). It would serve as the entry level model in a four-pronged attack on Mercedes-Benz also consisting of the larger 5, 6, and 7-series BMWs. It became known as the now ubiquitous 3-series, and the 323i would be it’s halo car. Without it, there was the distinct possibility of BMW moving from its core mission of building ultimate driving machines and in doing so alienating an existing customer base long enamoured with the charms of the smaller 2002.

Handling was not the issue for the 3 series. With independent suspension all-round, four-wheel disc brakes and superbly communicative steering this was a modern chassis in the best of teutonic tradition. What enthusiasts called out for was more power. A modern engine that had to meet the demands of a new era of traffic jams, emissions legislation and oil crises, while still providing a real incentive to just go out and drive the thing. In looking for a designer, they could scarcely have done better than to employ the services of Paul Rosche. Rosche, a BMW engineer from 1957 through to his retirement in 1999, already had such iconic engines as the 286hp 6 cylinder of the M1 and the 2litre motor of the 2002 turbo (famously, one of the most politically incorrect cars of all time) to his name. Rosche settled upon a 2.3litre straight six, the largest capacity engine that would fit in the compact engine bay, the first cylinder nestling almost beneath the dashboard. While the power it produced was more than adequate (143bhp and 145lb ft of torque) for the 1100kg car, it was the delivery that made the engine such a fantastic companion to work with. Turbine smooth and with a rich swell of torque that kept you entertained until the real fireworks began at 3600rpm, the engine delighted in being rung right out to its seemingly conservative 6500rpm redline. With a now classic BMW straight-six soundtrack, this was the engine that brought the highest pedigree of motoring engineering to, if not every motorist, then at least the upper-middle class.