Thruxton: Eric Dymock (left) and Frank Sytner testing BMW M3 Evolution. Photo Chris Willows
A suspicion that "production" racing cars of the 1980s were no more than disguised racing cars gained traction when Alfa Romeo showed a 164 Procar at the Birmingham Motor Show. Procar was an American silhouette formula for cars that looked like production saloons but underneath anything went, and the Alfa had a central frame of aluminium and Nomex honeycomb, lined with carbon and Kevlar. No expense was spared. But instead of a refined, quiet 192-horsepower 3.0-litre V6 driving front wheels, it had an opcn-exhaust 600-horsepower 3.5-liIre V10 mid-engine driving those at the back.
Effectively a single-seater capable of 200mph it had a sort of dish cover body, also of Kevlar and carbon fibre the shape of a 164. The masquerade was complete down to badges, bumpers, indicators and wipers. The front doors had authentic shiny locks. replica seats had replica upholstery. It would have been impossible and probably illegal to use it on the road.
In Sunday Times Motoring 23 October 1988 I thought it would be good to show that a BMW M3 was nearer something you could buy. The one with which Frank Sytner finished seventh in the final round of the Dunlop British Touring Car Championship was a bit closer to “production”. Sytncr won his class in 11 out of 12 races as well as the title based on results gained against other cars the same size. He won by 103 points to 98 from Phil Dowsctt’s Toyota Corolla, and Andy Rouse's fast Ford Sierra. Rouse won nine of the races but narrowly lost the series with only 95 points, after enlivening afternoons of television until the final round at Silvcrstone when a tyre blew out.
Sytner's BMW was indeed a little different from most 3-Series BMWs, which were lively smooth-running two-and four-door saloons with four- or six-cylinder engines. His was one of about 5.000 out of the annual 300.000 with an energetic 2.3-litrc four-cylindcr developed by BMW's Motorsport Division. This 16-valve unit was a distant relative of a successful (but by then-outmoded) BMW Formula I engine, developing some 200 horsepower in a car with flared wheel arches to make room for wide wheels and tyres.
Known as the M3 (M for Motorsport. nothing to do with the still incomplete motorway). it did about I43mph. cost £23.550 and was available only in left-hand drive. The reason for 5,000 was that under international racing regulations once that was exceeded, the model was allowed to evolve. Thus the test M3 was known as the M3 Evolution, of which 500 were made, with only 40 coming to Britain. So, while Sytner's racer had as its basis a car anyone could pay £26.960 for and do I52mph, it was not exactly the same as the bulk of 3-Series between £13.000 and £17.000.
Driving the road version to get the feel of it before the racer, I found it except for the vivid performance, almost unracerlikc. Except for the inconvenience of left-hand drive it would have been quite acceptable for everyday use. The engine was slightly raspier and road noise less subdued, a penalty of grippy, noisy low-profile tyres.
Further additions and deletions made a proper racing car. The most obvious extra was a roll cage, which not only saved the driver should the car tumble on to its roof, but also stiffened the bodyshell with the effect of improving the handling. A further bonus, within the rules on safety grounds, was mounting the suspension directly on to the roll cage, which made it more of a pure racer than ever. The interior was stripped of carpets and sound deadening, the seats replaced by a single upright hammock-shape into which I could just squeezc.
It was a tight fit across hips and shoulders and trusscd up in the aircrafl-style safety harness I could move only arms and legs. The rest of me was pinned firmly into the roll-cage. From then on wherever the car went, I went. The feedback from the track, the feel, the vibration, the attitude of the car became unmistakably racer.
A certain amount of weight saving was allowed, some suspension components were re-cast in magnesium or aluminium, but Sytncr left the heater in, to de-mist windows when racing in the rain. The steering was not power-assisted so felt heavy, but direct, you could feel the track, the cambers, the changes of surface with every fibre. They left off the expensive six-speed racing gearbox for me: it took a lot of learning and its dog-gears had to be snatched with a good deal of force and vigour.
In deference to the British Autontobile Racing Club's neighbours at Thruxton, I ran on the track with silencers, but it was enough to get the feel of a car still with good manners despite an engine whose power came in huge dollops at high speeds and brakes that jarred and graunched. The smell of heat and rubber once Frank had warmed up the racing tyres and handed the car over was memorable.
Lap times? You can always tell natural drivers. They post competitive times inside three to five laps. Unfortunately I didn’t get the chance to show off. Within five or ten minutes the silencers, such as they were, decayed so much the neighbours complained. Sytner’s place as works driver remained secure.
https://dovepublishing.co.uk/titles
JIM CLARK: Tribute to a Champion by Eric Dymock
MG Classics by Eric Dymock. Model by Model, Books 1, 2 and 3
