So he went from this
Through these stages
and then he was finally left with this...
At this point it was part of a magazine feature. It didn't fail to impress.
He then decided to call it a day for his ownership of 'CDE' and sold up.
Then, a young entrepreneur with a penchant for very un-stylish sunglasses decided to take ownership of 'CDE'.
He had many a good time in CDE as he purchased it.
He even made some improvements along the way
Alas, he decided that his style was not befitting that of an estate car owner (sorry, touring) so inevitably, a new shell needed to be sourced.
A rather nice two door 318i Lux was found, and what a nice example it was too.
So, the process of transferring 'CDE' over to its new skeleton began.
Out we go
and et voila....one S50'd two door
And then the now ex-'CDE' goes to the scrap yard in the sky
Some more fettling and young Barry had a very very nice two door.
This is where you humble narrator enters the story. I initially started talking to Barry about possibly buying a friends 320iS. The sale never came to fruition through several reasons beyond both the seller and my own control. Such is life, these things are sent to try us. However, it was a passing comment to Barry of ”awell, it’s a shame your not selling your S50”a which got us talking about money. A few more calls and a few weeks later I was on the 06:10 flight to Gatwick with a wedge of my hard earned. Less that 12 hours later I was back home, up north after visiting some old skool losers”¦sorry, I mean Zoners, as well as picking up a set of Recaro SR’s.
Here’s some pictures Barry took on the day of sale, which is how it was when I got it.
In my time of ownership I mad many a good time in this fine chariot which, as you may have realised, is becoming affectionately known as CDE.
A lot of my more jovial moments included many a good time embarrassing Lotus Elise’s et al, on many a track day, wet or dry I may add.
I had high hopes for this little machine. It was growing on me as a car, and I had thoughts of coilovers to eliminate some of the monsterous roll issues I was having (as you can see on the picture of me on three wheels). I also had thoughts of a twin master cylinder setup running a custom pedal box with no brake servo.
I got half way there accidentally, through no fault of my own, and whilst I had no servo assist, I also actually found my self with no brakes what so ever at one point. Unfortunately for me this happened mid lap on a trackday.
One master cylinder failure whilst approaching this corner at approximately 90 MPH.
Resulted in this”¦oops
Basically I had stopped from 85-90 MPH to 0 MPH in just over half a car’s length. My helmet managed to take up a lot of the impact of me headbutting the steering wheel, however, padding can only compress so far and with me having a rather large nose to start with, this resulted in me squashing it, quite heavily, against the front of the helmet. Result”¦one broken nose and me looking even more of an ugly twat than usual for a few days.
I was suprised how well the standard E30 cabin managed to stand up to the impact considering I managed to open the door and exit the vehicle unassisted, although I was a little dazed, I didn’t lose consciousness at all.
Before impact, whilst only being a few seconds, I had what seemed like more than enough time to think things through rationally. Arm’s at 3 & 9 o’clock on the wheel, thumbs not hooked over the wheel, feet back away from the pedals as lets face it, with no brakes putting my feet to the fire wall wasn’t doing any good, even for morale. My final thoughts were ”aright, this is going to hurt. Relax; if I’m tense it’ll hurt even more. That’s the sound of kitty litter and I can almost see the individual blades of grass on the hill behind the tire wall, I think its time to close my eyes before I hit it.”a And with that, bang.
My first thoughts upon opening my eyes after the sound of kitty litter bouncing off the bottom of the car quickly followed by that sickening crunch of plastic I’m sure a lot of you have sadly experienced; along with the thud of my face hitting the steering wheel, was one of much relief. The first thing that passed my mind was not the pain in my nose, the taste of blood in my mouth, or the fact that I needed to drive the car home that evening; but one of the fact that I was not on fire”¦hooray, I have all the time in the world then.
Time for a quick damage check, arms and legs all in tact and in working order, no sore neck/back, nothing trapped, nothing cut, no broken glass, how cool was this.
Right then, ignition off, helmet off, door open ready to stumble out onto the kitty litter to be greeted by a rather worried looking Marshall. With a slightly nervous smile he asks if I’m ok and I get whisked away to the medical centre for a quick check over. Many thanks to the Marshalls and track crew, all of them did a blinding job of sorting the track, my car and I in a very quick, safe and professional manner.
Upon returning to the paddock I go and investigate the car. Its quite clearly fucked, something which I was in very little doubt of before I was even in eye sight of it.
Some more pics of the damage, and of the cabin.
The search for a new shell began. I had my heart set on something pre-facelift. Something with style and class, but also that was solid, the last thing I needed was a fully blown shell resto before I even thought about swapping engines/drivetrain.
Some hours were spent pulling the front end out of the car to try and salvage what I could such as air conditioning pipes etc.
This is where the project ground to a halt. Finding a good shell was proving difficult. Particularly a chrome bumper pre-facelift model”¦.damn.
Alas, a solution was just around the corner. I knew of a black M3 shell which was available, no engine and box was present which meant less work, and less cost. With me being a tight northerner living on gravy and brown ale, this was also a plus point.
However, this shell needed far too much work for me, although a lot of the panels were there, scuttle, front and rear panels all needed doing, as well as front wings and then it would of all needed spraying too. Far too much work for a man as busy as myself. But, much like my purchase of CDE, it was talking to the seller in which I managed to pick up the new shell for CDE to be transplanted into. This shell is mint, and I mean mint. Yipee.
I’ll let the pics do the talking.
An empty engine bay”¦woohoo, less work for me
And that’s the tale so far. I did warn you in the title, this was a bit of a saga, but hey ho, hopefully you enjoyed it so far”¦now that hard work begins.
Enjoy.
I recognise those shiny air con condensor bolts! 
