The emperor’s old clothes
What a car. The M5 makes you feel good every day and lets you kid yourself you’re a driving god. But then it goes and you’re mortal again…
AH, FOR SIX, brief, glorious months I have been the Lord of Realms, Master of All I Survey, the Sovereign Prince of Oversteer. Now my BMW M5 has gone and I’m feeling much reduced. To drive such a cult car – and, in the 2018 guise, one that’s back on top form – has been a real privilege. No exaggeration, I felt a little thrill inside every day, climbing into this car.
Of course, there have been plenty of boring journeys over the last six months – early-morning motorway slogs in gluey traffic, long hours listening to Radio 4, frustrated efforts to get home on a Friday night. In such situations, the M5 plays the role of executive saloon as well as you’d hope: quiet, comfortable, piled high with technology. The only downside is the fuel economy of the 4.4-litre twin-turbo V8: on average I have filled up once a week, and over six months the price of a tank of fuel has gone up from £82 to £90 per fill. On a good week that would buy me 350 miles, but often it was a lot less. On our CAR long-term test car jaunt to Wales (as featured in the August issue), the M5 was thrashed mercilessly by the whole team, and we guzzled a tank in just 143 miles – achieving 10.5mpg.
Trouble is, the monstrous performance of the M5 proved so addictive, every time I urged myself ‘Come on, drive sensibly, think of the fuel…’ I’d last about five miles before cracking. I mean, what’s the point of an M5 if you drive like a granny? Next thing I know, I’d be pressing the red M2 button on the steering wheel, configuring the car to rear-wheel drive and traction control off, and the fuel tank would once again be drained like a bath with the plug pulled out. My favourite trick was to slide the M5 all the way round a long, curving off-ramp, a 180-degree oversteer drift from slip road up to bridge, every night on my way home. That off-ramp will remind me of the BMW forever.
Interestingly, the way the M5 behaved mid-slide changed a lot towards the end of our time together. Normally I’m not the kind to get bogged down in nerdy tyre details, but after our rowdy shoot with stunt driver Matt Sherren last month, the M5’s tyres were down to the canvas. BMW had arranged for another set to be fitted so I could drive home safely, and the 20-inch Pirelli P-Zeros were replaced by Michelins. I couldn’t believe the difference they made, at the limit of adhesion – the Michelins made the car more prone to understeer when initially provoked, and the rears didn’t break away as cleanly. The M5 would just glide on the Pirellis. If you want to drift your M5, make sure it’s fitted with the P Zeros.
Apart from that, I just know the M5 recalibrated my brain with its speed, its acceleration, and its astounding carbon brakes. Stealthy, sexy and supercar fast, it’s been an intense reaffirmation of the M5’s cult status. I’m beginning to realise: it wasn’t me that was King of the Road – it was always this mind-blowing car.