The BMW Z4 M40i Roadster: A weekend away with my cat Dahlia
It has long been a supposition of mine — and I am known for long, drawn-out presumptions — that BMW’S Z-series has never truly inspired a cult-like following. When one glanced at the old Z1, Z3 or even Z8, they were cute to look at, like the odd husky or poodle, but they never garnered the steady respect like, say, a German Shepard does. Granted, some models fetch healthy prices nowadays, but it lingered on the peripherals of the consumer market and was never really a proper, respected classic.
We — that is, my purring panther and I — were scheduled to test the Z4 2.0i for the weekend. She had been taking strain from the cat-sitter’s visits and my absence on cold winter evenings. She needed a bit of a break from the other intrepid scoundrels in our dainty abode and we decided that a cabriolet would be the ideal outing.
A day before the delivery of the vehicle, we were graciously informed that we would be getting the angrier and more ferocious M40i instead; a 250kw twin turbo, rear wheel, over-steering performance car wearing the guise of an Epicurean chariot.
After consulting with Dahlia, whose only response was to eye the “Vernasca Cognac” leather interior with a look bordering on consternation, we mutually decided that it would be even more entertaining to brave the frigid mountain air and sinewy pathways of Mpumalanga.
After packing her favourite tuna snacks, cat cabin, Mr Wiggles (her fluffy pet, not mine) with my single overnight bag into the trunk, we were both pleasantly surprised at how much room there is in the boot. There is a underlying masculinity to the new Z4 that was absent from its predecessors; it stares back at you with its daring stance and once you realise that it drives on the same tires as the M4 and that the brakes are M-developed, it changes the aspects of its purpose. Dahlia agreed with an absentminded
“meow”. The track of the Z4 M40i is wider than the Eskom bonus to performance gap, and suddenly I realised that the Z4 has enormous potential.
We sauntered onto the freeway. Dahlia grimaced slightly when I engaged Sport Plus mode. It forced her tiny emerald green eyes to squint furiously at me as we ripped through the 100km/h mark in 4.5 seconds. I took pity on her and flicked the Z4 back into comfort. Her body relaxed somewhat and her diamond-cutting claws withdrew. One would think that after so many performance tests she would be used to it. After all, we did an ungodly speed on a bike test just a few weeks earlier.
After linking our Apple car play, I selected Dahlia’s favourite artist, Queen, and after choosing The Great Pretender I took note of the steadiness and surefootedness of the chassis, which was a joint effort with Toyota, which cosied up to BMW to save costs (or perhaps it was the other way around). From that sharing of talent, the hot-blooded Supra was fertilised, which is coming soon to a farm dealership near you.
Staring at the curved rear and suggestive red LED lights of the Z4, I think it alludes to drag-strips and night races, while Dahlia was of the opinion that wider stances and buffer appearances do make for a better approach to grandstanding, and if you know anything about cats, grandstanding is second nature to them.
The straight roads passed with minimum fuss, the M40i showing expressly low consumption at our national speed limit. We hovered at about seven litres per 100km and considering the rampant engine, numbers like that are extremely encouraging.
We surged into Lydenburg and, after a potty break for Dahlia, tackled the treacherously inviting Long Tom Pass. On the last road trip, we realised that quick driving and a cat’s full bladder do not mix. Engaging Sport Plus Mode forces a grin onto your face and keeps you firmly ensconced in the seats as you strive to navigate the sinewy tar. Dahlia grimly gripped the sides of her transport box and hung on, growling slightly.