104

I woke up groggy, my best friend offered to pick me up in his convertible and make our way to school together. He was the kind of person to have the top down even in the winter.  It was a hand-me-down from his father, a silver early model BMW E30 convertible. As the cold wind hit me, I exclaimed to him that I hated these “old cars” and would never own one.

"...you might ask how [we] managed a motor and transmission swap in a weekend? We didn't...."

Cut to a few years later, I sold my extremely reliable, low-mile, Jetta to swap an E36 motor into MY black BMW E30 sedan in a weekend. With me knowing only righty tighty, lefty loosey, and my friend having never touched this kind of motor, you might ask how you guys managed a motor and transmission swap in a weekend? We didn't. It took our combined efforts the better part of 2 more years to get properly running. You could attribute this to any number of errors, on our part, from poor planning to a simple lack of experience. If it wasn't for my mother working from home and allowing me to use her car to get around, I truly believe I would've sold the project car and cut my losses.

Every day, it got 1% better. We spent countless nights in our friend's grandmother's garage, diagnosing and cranking away. Slowly but surely, we came to learn the motor and how to adapt it, and finally, after months of work, we took it for its first drive. No exhaust, no hood, no glovebox, just a hanging ECU and prayers. We drove it around the block with smiles ear to ear, and a sense of accomplishment.

At this point, it had been almost a year of labor, and we were both probably ready to be done with it. After we parked it in the garage, we went to put the exhaust on. As we started to mount it we were met with a copious amount of water (temporary coolant) from the headers. This could only mean one thing: a blown Head Gasket. Sure enough, we drained the “oil” and were met with coolant and curse words. Despite this major setback, I felt a sense of hope. The first drive gave me the sense that this was indeed possible. Until this point, any success was theoretical; that first drive was tangible. We would then spend the better part of another year hammering out every little hiccup, but eventually, and I mean eventually, it would become something that could take you from point A to point B, reliably.

Looking back, was it stupid? Yes. Was it necessary? No. Did we accidentally drop the motor on the ground? Once or twice. Was it worth it? Every last bit. This car, I vowed never to own, now holds a place so deep in my heart I wouldn't sell it for the world. Though the path to its current point was borderline insanity, it is now an experience I look back on fondly. Without the struggles and the long nights, the car wouldn't exist, and I take joy in that fact. When I drive, not only am I enjoying the powerful new motor or the 5-speed manual, but most of all the contributions the people in my life made for it to exist. Without the help of my friends and family, I wouldn't have had the time, money, or courage to own this version of my car.

These days, I am fortunate enough to have the resources to spend on fine-tuning rather than pulling my hair out trying to get it from a pile of parts to something that resembles a car. I've recently upgraded the suspension, giving the car a lower profile. Fitted a body kit, which I opted to wrap myself, and gave the car a new brown color. I couldn't be happier with the way the car looks and hope I won't need to spend too much more time in the engine bay. Though if I find myself working away, I'll know it will only be to make an already perfect car that much better.