By Nate Risch
    01/05/2015
    Happy new year to you all! Work on both the Shark (the ’79 635CSi) and the Z3 slowed down over the holidays, as I was in Colombia for a week with my extended family on a once-in-a-lifetime vacation. We stayed in a hacienda in coffee country—the compartment of Qindio, roughly equidistant from the three largest cities of Medellin, Bogota, and Cali—took day trips through the spectacular countryside, and were fed incredibly well.
    By Nate Risch
    12/29/2014
    Nope—not gonna do it. I know what the calendar says; I know that January 1st is the day after tomorrow, but I refuse to take the easy way out and write about New Year’s resolutions. All the writers in the English-speaking world can tell you how they will improve their lives in the coming year, but not me.
    By Nate Risch
    12/29/2014
    We interrupt our sort-out-the-Shark series for this important repair. Several weeks ago, I described my new job at Bentley Publishers, my new commute into Cambridge—and the irony that I, the BMW guy, was likely going to need to perform said commute in my beat-to-hell Suburban, because of the eleven cars I own, seven are Hagerty cars that can’t be used to drive a daily commute (not that I’d want to pull them out in the winter anyway); Maire Anne’s Honda Fit is, well, Maire Anne’s Honda Fit; my 325xiT wagon has been usurped by my son Ethan; and I can’t realistically be expected to drive the Z3 through the winter, right? Particularly when it has 138,000 miles, a thermostat that’s stuck open (runs cold), and has had no systematic cooling system sort-out whatsoever.
    By Nate Risch
    12/22/2014
    Two nights before Christmas, I pondered my stackOf recommendations for readers to packBeneath Yule trees of thousands of Bimmerhead housesTo surprise and delight many much-belov’d spouses,When suddenly there on my hearth did appearFather Christmas himself, fully of jolly good cheer.
    By Nate Risch
    12/22/2014
    As I wrote several weeks ago, one of the things that allowed me to purchase the ’79 Euro 635CSi at a price I could afford was the curious choice that the previous owner made to spend money on things such as refinished vintage BBS RA wheels—while leaving unresolved such problems as a leaky gas tank. The tipping point in the purchase came when he agreed to sell me the car without the wheels; I literally had to show up with another set and swap them in his garage. Of course, I was trading away something cool and shiny, and accepting something rusty and leaky.

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