Random car reviews: Tales from a nut with too much time on his hands!

So, I haven't written a review in a while. I should probably give some context behind why I started test driving cars again and also my current lineup of cars: 

-2021 Mazda 3 Turbo
-2008 E82 BMW 128i 6MT
-2020 ND2 Miata MX-5 Club w/Recaro/BBS/Brembo package

For the past two years, my 128i has been a fun car that I could drive just about anywhere. It's been a wonderful street car. Here recently, it underwent some major surgeries, namely installing an oil pan baffle and removing the front end of the car to install an OEM 135i oil cooler. It's also now on Hawk ER-1 Endurance track pads and 17x8.5 Apex wheels wearing 235-wide RT660+ rubber. While it's currently running a fairly soft/street friendly Bilstein B12 cup kit, in the near future I see this suspension being removed and replaced with something a good bit more aggressive for track work. 

I should explain: I recently got back into time trials. 




So, how has that changed the 128i? 

Well, while the ER-1 pads seemed to hold to up lapping sessions just fine, they make a good bit of noise and dust like crazy. Prior to my first event, they were ear-piercingly-loud. After a few sessions, they seemed to tame themselves just a bit, but they're still track pads. They're still obnoxiously loud for street driving and my fancy new Apex wheels are now covered in dust. 

The wider wheels and sticky tires made the car less fun on the street. I ran into the same problem I ran into the last time I drove a C7 Corvette- it now has so much grip that you can't really come anywhere close to the car's limits on the street. If I were to revert it to a street setup, instead of using a modern set of super 200 treadwear tires, I would use some 300+ treadwear summer street tires. I would probably try to make my wheel decision based on the availability of some flavor of Michelin Pilot Sport tire (traditionally my favorite street tires). You know, something with a bit stiffer sidewall, so you feel some response and enough grip to be playful, while still making the limits approachable on the street. I might even shoot for a set of wheels that are just a bit more on the narrow side to keep response high. 

Now, I'm not saying that the 128i is unbearable on the street, but it's now less fun than it was before, makes a good bit more dust/noise and due to it morphing more into a track car, I'm less inclined to grab the keys. This will likely get even worse in the future when the stiffer suspension is installed and I'm still kicking around the idea of a clutch-based LSD, which would also make it just a bit less street-friendly. 

Yes, I still have the Mazda 3 Turbo. Yes, it still functions very well for boring street car duties. 

Yes, I also have an ND2 Miata. Yes, for pure sports car duties, it's a riot and it's actually not bad around town or on the freeway, but it is a tiny car that is exclusively, just a toy. 

No, I absolutely don't need another vehicle. However, with the 128i now becoming a track car, there is a bit of a hole in the lineup, as it is a usable car that will comfortably take me just about anywhere I desire, while still being fun to pitch around on a back road. So, I figured I would drive a few cars here recently, to see how I felt about adding one of them to the lineup... so, without further ado... 

I previously owned a 2018 BMW M2 (F87) with a 6-speed manual—albeit only for a short time. That car was incredible—an absolute riot to drive. Unfortunately, no matter what I tried (and I made several modifications to the seat and pedals), I couldn’t get it to stop aggravating my right knee while driving. So, I ended up selling it sooner than I would’ve liked. It was a tough decision, because despite the pain, I genuinely loved driving that car.

As a possible replacement for my 128i—which, as mentioned above, is gradually becoming more of a track car—I considered a last-generation M240i (F22). But since its interior layout, seating position, and pedal placement are nearly identical to the M2’s, I ultimately passed on it to avoid further knee issues.

Still, since I clearly enjoy this type of car, I decided to take a spin in the current-generation 2024 BMW M240i (G42), which happened to have only 5,000 miles on the clock.




You'll have to forgive me—I usually take my own photos when test driving a car, but since I hadn’t planned on writing a review, I didn’t think to snap any this time. So, I’m just using a dealer stock photo of the car.

Not that it matters for this review, but I’m honestly not sure if the M240i bothered my right knee or not. The seat had a bit of rake to it, so I raised the rear to try and flatten it out. I did notice some tightness behind my right knee, but that may have been due to the hour-long drive down in the ND2 beforehand—it’s hard to say for sure.

As for the car itself, it was perfectly fine. There’s plenty of power on tap—no surprise there—but it didn’t really stand out in terms of character. It’s quick, competent, and well put together, but not particularly engaging. When you give it the beans, The Force is strong with this one. In a straight line, it’s probably just as fast as my old F87 M2, but it lacks the same personality—and it definitely doesn’t make the same kind of noise.

I know the B58 is an objectively excellent engine, with massive aftermarket potential and power everywhere in the rev range. There’s virtually no lag to speak of, and it pulls hard from just about any speed. But for whatever reason, despite how effortlessly it moves the car, I just never fell in love with it in this particular application.

As in other applications, the ZF 8-speed automatic is a gem. It shifts quickly and intuitively, and I had no complaints—other than the usual: it just doesn’t offer the same level of engagement as a good old-school manual.

Running it through a few corners, the M240i definitely felt like a larger car. It was stable and composed, but not particularly playful or fun. It didn’t really invite me to push harder or explore its limits—it just went about its business in a very competent, but detached way.

We couldn’t find too many twisty roads during the test drive, but I honestly didn’t mind. I believe this car weighs somewhere around 3,800 pounds. While it feels slightly lighter than the spec sheet might suggest, it never came across as a nimble sports car. Instead, it felt more like a polished GT car—which, to be fair, is exactly what it is. For the record, its freeway manners were excellent. I wouldn’t hesitate to drive the M240i cross-country.

In the end, though, I walked away feeling like I’d rather drive my humble Mazda 3 Turbo. It’s lighter, more eager to change direction, and somehow just more enjoyable in everyday driving. The M240i is undoubtedly refined, powerful, and comfortable—it checks a lot of boxes—but I couldn’t shake the sense of “meh.” It’s a nice car, but not one I’d want to go into debt over. And despite its big power and upscale interior, its more GT-like personality makes it a poor fit as a replacement for my modded 128i.

After finding the G42 M240i a bit too soft and uninvolving, I decided to spiral down the rabbit hole of nostalgia.

Let me explain.

A long time ago, in an area not too far away, I owned a 2006 GD-chassis Subaru STi. For about two and a half years, I drove the absolute hell out of that car. I modified it, daily drove it, and probably racked up more miles on that STi than on any other car I’ve ever owned—and somehow, I managed not to blow up an EJ motor in the process.

Fast forward nearly two decades. My taste in cars has evolved with age, and it’s been years since anything with a Subaru badge has lived in my garage. But with the 128i gradually turning into more of a dedicated track car, I started wondering if a fun, four-door, all-wheel-drive sedan might make a decent year-round street replacement.

So, I headed about an hour north to check out this 2005 Subaru WRX STi with 148,000 miles on the clock:

Before making the long drive to check this thing out, I asked the seller if it would pass emissions. I was assured it would—absolutely. And sure, in that remote county of Colorado, it probably would. But I live in the Denver metro area, which unfortunately has adopted California’s CARB laws. And given the car’s setup, let’s just say I’m skeptical that I could get it road legal in my area without a bin full of stock parts and a lot of effort.

From the photos, it didn’t look heavily modified—but once I saw the mod list, I probably wouldn’t have bothered making the trip if I’d known beforehand:

• Full bolt-ons and running an E85 tune. Hard to tell if it was still on the stock turbo.

• I’m fairly certain it had some kind of aftermarket clutch.

• A massive subwoofer took up most of the trunk.

• An absolutely awful short shifter had been installed.

Was it fun? Maybe. Kind of. It’s hard to say, and even harder to give this car a fair review. The clutch had such a narrow bite point that pulling away from a stop required intense concentration—I nearly stalled several times during our 25-minute test drive. That alone really sucked the joy out of the experience.

And then there was the shifter.

Dear children: stop installing these horrific short shifters. That fraction of a second you saved with a 20% shorter throw is not worth the herculean effort required to get the car into gear. In the end, you’re just going to miss more shifts—and that’ll cost you far more time on track or at the strip. This particular shifter was terrible. I don’t remember Subaru manuals ever being particularly great, but I can’t recall the last time a shifter required this much brute force just to row through the gears. Heel-toe downshifts? Forget it. Either you’ll miss the gear entirely or the revs will drop too much while you’re still trying to force the lever into place.

Between the clutch and the shifter, I couldn’t imagine wanting to drive this car daily—or at all. I’d love to find a stock example to drive, but these days, most of them are on their 14th owner and have been absolutely butchered. In this case, most of the modifications just made the car worse to drive. Except for the power mods.

I’ll admit—it’s been a while since I’ve driven a full bolt-on EJ25 running E85, and I forgot how fun those engines can be. It made great noises, and if you kept the revs up, it pulled hard all the way to redline. Sure, EJ engines have a reputation for being fragile, but I’d also forgotten how much character they bring to the table. The motor was definitely the highlight of an otherwise poorly modified GD STi.

I’d also forgotten just how short the gearing is on these cars. It made my ND2 Miata’s gearing almost feel tall in comparison. Old-school rally car things. If it weren’t for the absurd short shifter fighting me at every turn, it would’ve been easy to keep the engine in its sweet spot.

We didn’t hit many twisty roads, but the car felt reasonably playful. Still, it didn’t really drive like a sports car. The seating position is high, and the overall feel was more “tarted-up econobox” than something purpose-built. I wasn’t sure if it aggravated my knee or not, but nothing stood out as a major issue in that regard. The body had more roll than I remembered, but it wasn’t excessive.

I don’t know what was done to the suspension. It rode fairly well, but on a couple of exits, the rear stepped out slightly—nothing dramatic, but definitely noticeable.

The steering was just a bit numb on center. It had a hydraulic rack, but it still didn’t feel particularly engaging. It came off more like a car where you turn in, trust it to do its thing, and just hang on.

All in all, I walked away uninterested. It truly felt like a tarted-up old beater with a big turbo—but not in the charming way old Hondas do. Those old double-wishbone Hondas were engaging, full of feedback, and had some of the best gearboxes ever made. This Subaru, while certainly faster than most of the Hondas from that era and equipped with plenty of grip and trick diffs, just didn’t feel like a driver’s car.

It was nice to take a walk down memory lane, but I left with zero interest in revisiting that part of my past. Maybe if a bone-stock example showed up, I’d give it a spin—but for now, I’m more than content to leave the GD STi in the rearview mirror.

Sometimes, test drives just fall into your lap. I wasn’t planning to drive anything new that day—just dropping off my 128i at the dealership for a PCV recall (something about a small chance of spontaneous combustion, which I generally try to avoid). After two years of ownership, it was my first time bringing it to a BMW dealership. Free fix? Sure. Not burning to death? Bonus.

But then, like a glistening beacon in the corner of the lot, I saw it: a pristine E89 BMW Z4 sDrive35i. Manual transmission. Only 39,000 miles. I was already there, so I figured… why not?

First Impressions: Looks Can Be Deceiving

On the surface, this Z4 looked like everything I should love—classic proportions, a slick folding metal roof, the ever-potent twin-turbo N54 under the hood, and that rare unicorn of a 6-speed manual. But once I settled into the driver’s seat, the cracks started to show—or rather, the discomfort started to creep in.

Maybe it’s just me (read: my bum knee), but something about the ergonomics bugged me almost immediately. I had just driven my 128i moments before hopping into the Z4, and the contrast was undeniable. Despite BMW claiming similar interior dimensions, the 128i felt like a stretch limo in comparison. My knee agreed.

Over the years of test driving, I’ve noticed that spec sheet interior dimensions seem to mean absolutely nothing. I sometimes wonder if BMW calculates legroom using a magic 8-ball or some ancient Bavarian rune stone. This is a textbook case: BMW says the 128i has 41.4 inches of legroom. The very same company, in the very same era, claims the E89 Z4 has 42.2 inches. Yet somehow, in real life, the 128i’s seat still has a few rearward clicks left, while the Z4’s was already at max travel—and I still felt cramped. We're not talking kei car levels of tightness here, but I’d swear the Z4 offered less usable legroom than my 1,200-pound-lighter ND2 Miata.

The rest of the interior was actually pretty spacious. There was plenty of headroom under the metal folding roof, which was a pleasant surprise considering how low the car sits. Shoulder and hip room were also generous—it definitely doesn’t feel cramped side-to-side. If you don’t have long legs and a temperamental right knee, this would be a comfortable place to spend a few hours chewing up highway miles. As a road trip companion, it makes a strong case for itself—just maybe not if your knees have strong opinions like mine do.

The Good: That N54 Still Rips

Let’s be honest—the N54, despite it's questionable long-term reliability, is still a gem of an engine. It pulled strong everywhere, with that classic twin-turbo torque surge that makes you take notice of the speed-o, even in modern traffic. Power was unquestionably the highlight of the entire drive. Smooth, punchy, eager. It’s the kind of engine that makes you forget you're in a car that weighs more than it should.

The shifter felt… fine. Similar to my 128i’s, maybe slightly more precise, but that’s probably due to the fact this thing had less than a third the mileage. What wasn’t fine? The clutch throw. Way too long, and it didn’t match the gas pedal at all. It immediately reminded me why I installed a clutch stop in my 128i. Every gear change felt like an exaggerated yoga pose- extended-left-leg-dog. 

The Meh: GT Vibes in a Sporty Suit

The Z4’s suspension, even in Sport+ mode, felt softer than the Bilsteins on my 128i. Not sloppy or floaty—it actually managed its weight decently—but it didn’t inspire confidence. You don’t throw it into corners so much as you gently suggest a change in direction and hope it agrees.

Steering was another disappointment. Light and lifeless. I got back into my 128i after the test and within seconds—literally, just pulling out of the parking lot—I was reminded how much better the steering feel and weight are in the E82 chassis.

The Z4 just didn’t feel like a driver’s car. More like a small GT car pretending to be something sportier. It has a short 98-inch wheelbase, but somehow still felt heavy and aloof. Weighing in at over 3500 lbs, it’s actually about 100 pounds heavier than a 135i, likely thanks to that origami hardtop.

Final Thoughts: Not for Me

The interior was nice, arguably a notch up in materials and finish compared to my 128i. It felt premium, well-kept, and tastefully designed. But even with all that, I didn’t find myself having much fun. The drive was cut short by an unexpected phone call, but honestly, I had no urge to go back and take it out again.

The E89 Z4 is a good car in many ways. It’s fast. It’s comfortable. It looks great. But it’s not the kind of car that whispers “let’s go for a drive” when the garage door opens. At least not to me.

And that’s fine. Not every car has to be a backroad weapon or a track-day darling. But when the bar is set by something as pure and connected as the traditional Japanese roadsters that I'm used to (the Miata and S2000 come to mind), the Z4 just doesn’t quite make the cut.

In my quest for a car that’s reasonably fun but still practical enough to take anywhere—something to fill the gap between my track-bound 128i and my dedicated daily, the Mazda 3—I revisited a car that left a solid impression the last time I tracked one down: the Acura RSX Type S.

Now, a few caveats. Finding a clean, stock RSX Type S at a reputable dealership is about as likely as finding a VHS copy of The Fast and the Furious in a Tesla showroom. Most have been passed around like mixtapes and driven like they were stolen—because, frankly, some of them probably were. If you stumble upon a clean-title example in good condition, go buy a lottery ticket immediately.

To drive this particular one, I had to head 45 minutes north… to a junkyard. Yes, an actual junkyard. Apparently, this place sells salvage-title cars before deciding whether to part them out. So just know: this 2006 RSX Type S has definitely seen better days.




This beauty queen has racked up 199,000 miles. The paint’s faded, there's unpainted Bondo on the front bumper (who puts Bondo on a polyurethane bumper?), and it has no catalytic converters. It was totaled due to hail damage—how it wasn’t written off before the hail is anyone’s guess.

Let’s be clear: this car was at a massive disadvantage before I even turned the key. Not only was it in rough shape, but I had just spent 45 glorious minutes slicing through traffic in one of the most joyful cars on the planet—my ND2 Club Miata, complete with factory Recaros and under 5,000 miles on the clock. Hopping out of that mint roadster and into a salvage-title RSX that needed a jump to leave the junkyard? Not exactly a fair fight.

Still, I climbed in, adjusted the seat (not even all the way back), and… something surprising happened. My knee—the same knee that complains in most cars and throws tantrums in others—felt better. Not just okay. Better. As in, my right hamstring felt tight before I started driving this car and within minutes, all tightness and discomfort was completely alleviated. This is the second RSX I’ve driven, and both times, the driving position seemed to work magic. It’s more upright and sedan-like, kind of similar to my Mazda 3 or 128i, with the steering wheel just a touch too far out like in an S2000. It doesn’t scream “sports car,” but it fits. And my knee likes it. Go figure.

On the road, the RSX Type S showed some charm. The clutch was smooth as butter (shocking!), the shifter had that Honda precision and reward, and the overall drivetrain felt refined, even with the car’s rough edges and high mileage. It has hard to believe that with 199k miles on the clock and every sign of abuse you can imagine, that the drivetrain felt so good. 

There was a full exhaust (sans cats, of course) and a mystery ECU tune. The seller, who had three RSXs on the "lot", has owned a plethora of Hondas and used to own an RSX-S, suspected the tune made it to where the car was “always in VTEC,” which could explain the weird power delivery. Midrange torque felt soft, especially compared to the Miata I had just stepped out of, but again, context matters. It's been a while since I've driven an RSX-S, but the last time, I remember walking away having enjoyed the gem that is the K20. This time, I didn't get the same impression. I'm not sure if it was a poor tune, or the fact that the ND2 I just got out of feels pretty spritely, or some other unknown factor. All I know is that I remember loving the last K20 I revved out, whereas this one didn't tickle my fancy. 

Steering? Well, it probably needed an alignment. We didn’t take many serious corners since I had a 250-pound passenger next to me and there weren't many fun corners to be taken in the area. The bulging Continental tires that were mounted to cheap Rota wheels likely didn't add to the steering feel and response. I couldn't say how wide the wheels were, so I can't comment on tire fitment, other than to say in my experience, when the tires look this bloated, you usually end up with a car that feels a bit on the soggy side. So I can’t say much about how it handled, other than “it probably could.” The brakes felt weak, but at 199k miles and unknown pad condition, who’s surprised?

Ride quality was decent—probably stock suspension—and it soaked up freeway expansion joints without complaint. Visibility was better than most modern coupes, even if it didn’t quite match the fishbowl clarity of a true ‘90s car. Inside, it didn’t feel particularly special, but it didn’t feel bad either. It just… was. A competent, mildly fun, potentially knee-healing commuter that’s seen better days.

All in all, this particular RSX Type S wasn’t a fair representative of what the platform can offer. But even in this abused, post-apocalyptic form, it showed glimpses of what made it a standout in its era. With the right example—one that isn’t on death row at a junkyard—there might still be something worthwhile here.

Would I daily a well taken care of example? Actually, yes. The RSX would make a great daily. It's very easy to drive and gave the impression you could take it anywhere without much of a complaint.  

Did I have fun driving it? Well… not really. Part of that was situational—the rather large “seller” rode along with me and we spent most of the short drive chatting rather than, say, pitching the car around a few corners. It felt less like a test drive and more like a carpool. On top of that, the RSX's condition didn’t exactly inspire confidence. Between the sky-high mileage, junkyard origins, and its, uh, cosmetically challenged state, I didn't spend much time hitting 8000rpm (even though the seller claimed the engine revved to 9000rpm and was encouraging me to test that feature out; which I politely declined). It idled and drove fine—no hiccups, no obvious misfires—but something about the midrange felt off, like it was missing a chunk of torque that should’ve been there. Maybe the mystery tune really did make it feel like it was “always in VTEC,” or maybe I was just comparing it to my mint ND2, or maybe it was just tired. Regardless, the thought of breaking down in a salvage lot with a dude who might genuinely say, “you break it, you buy it” kept my right foot in check.

Could it replace some of what the 128i does for me, once that car is fully track-prepped? Possibly. If I can find one that doesn’t need an exorcism and a paint job. Am I now on the hunt to find a clean example to place in my garage? Not really. This latest drive wasn't very inspiring to say the least. But that doesn't mean the platform doesn't have potential. If I run across a well taken care of example, I would be open to taking another one for a spin. 

After all these years, I finally managed to take a 2006 Lotus Elise for a spin. I wrote my impressions on my blog. Feel free to give it a read: 

 

How does a clutch-based LSD make a car less street friendly?

In reply to z31maniac :

A couple reasons: 

-Shortened life-span, or need to be rebuilt vs a Torsen/helical that will seemingly last the life of the car. 

-I've driven a couple in the past that made a good amount of noise/chatter/vibration, especially at low speeds vs an open or helical type diff that are nearly silent by comparison. I suppose it depends on the setup and ramp rate you choose to go with. 

I just love when you write a review.  And now you have a blog.   I saved it.  

In reply to Caprigrip :

Thanks brother! 

I've had the blog for 6+ months now. Prior to this, I mostly just used it to document the build on my 128i. Only recently did it hit me: hey dummy, why don't you start adding your car reviews to the blog you already started? I'm a little slow sometimes! 

 

I was feeling a bit under the weather today and stayed in the house. As a result, I managed to write two reviews in one day. Annnnnddd now, I'm spent. 

I've been meaning to drive an E9x M3 manual for a while now and finally found one yesterday.