BMW 335d Review

“BMW diesel?” The gas station attendant is incredulous.

Bracing against a March drizzle while looking over the flame surfaced, “Montego Blue Metallic” sports sedan standing tall on 17” rims, I could see why it wasn’t obvious.

In fact, this being New Jersey where you’re deemed unfit to pump your own gas, and the sixth Monmouth County gas station visited in the quest to find the crudest of fossil fuels, you’ll have to ask the attendant to fill ‘er up with diesel – twice.

Helpfully, BMW’s put  “Diesel” labels all around the 2011 335d as reminders that the 3-Series you’re piloting is propelled by diesel, not premium unleaded. There’s even one bold label right on the * gas * cap.

Funny how an ocean of distance provides an ocean of difference in consumer perceptions.
In native Deutschland, the 335d’s diesel power isn’t an anomaly, it’s the standard choice for most BMW drivers. Stateside, BMW has never before offered us a diesel.

Even a quarter century ago, when chief rival Mercedes-Benz was offering North American consumers a luxury of choice in long-legged oil burners, BMW believed that its reputation for performance stood separate from the desire for strict fuel efficiency.

So, circa 1986, if you were a fuel conscious shopper who quixotically wanted a performance car, an e30 generation 325e was the best your local BMW dealer could offer. And how good was it? Light ‘n nimble, the 325e featured a straight six that produced an – ahem – tire-shredding 121 horsepower and did the 0-60 sprint nine seconds – O.K. performance for days when the popular metric was 0-50.

Matched with a 5-Speed stick, the 325e could achieve 35 mpg highway and average a respectable 25 mpg. That’s good by today’s standards. And with fuel efficiency like that, who needed diesel?

Bringing it back to today, there’s an array of alternatives now available to the Green conscientious and fiscally conservative among us – from BMW’s mostly experimental Hydrogen concepts, to Japanese hybrids, to all-electric cars, and e85 flex-fuel options.

Do we in these United States really need a BMW diesel today?

BY THE NUMBERS

Rewind 10 days. We’re in East Brunswick and the fleet manager hands over the familiar key-fob and says: “You better hang on.”

Oh? Is it M3 fast?

“Haven’t driven the M3 in a while. But it’s fast.”

Reading over the specs for the 2011 BMW 335d, and it’s clear that the roundel has made its case for performance in bold.

The numbers paint a compelling portrait.

An aluminum twin-turbo straight-six makes 265 horsepower and a monumental 425 torques between 1750 rpm to 2250 rpm. That’s about the same horsepower as has the V8 in an e38 generation BMW 740iL and nearly as much torque as produced by the 6.2 Liter V8 found in a Ford F150.

Low end grunt propels the 335d to 60 in a factory-stated six seconds flat and, more significantly, the two turbochargers are there to insure that passing power is always right on-tap.

That said, the 335d is noticeably heavier than, say, a 2011 335i. There’s an adult passenger’s weight worth of difference between the two models – 3800 pounds versus 3600 pounds – give or take.

Add two occupants and luggage and that saddles the 3er’s weight into vintage 7-series heft. Suddenly, it looks like we’re gonna need all the torque we can get!

And fuel economy? Surely such a tank can’t manage the factory claimed 36 mpg highway? Or 29 mpg average? No way, Jose. Not a car this heavy.

Si, senior.

BIENVENIDO A MIAMI

Flash forward two days, 1200 miles traveled while enjoying an average mileage that tickled 40 mpg. With each fill up, we’ve bested BMW’s stated 580 mile range per 16-gallon tank.

Now, we’re in the land of abundant sunshine. Here, BMW’s Montego Blue simply pops. If you’re under 30, think “electric blue”. If you’re over 50, change that to “midlife crisis indigo”.

The 335d takes on a kind of exotic sheen amidst our subtropical surroundings. Not sure we’d have the same effect it if it were trimmed in Titanium Silver Metallic.

Miami is a keen venue.

Despite the traffic, the uninteresting grid of strip malls, and south Florida’s certifiable drivers, it’s the magic of sun, blue sky, bluer waters and a discerning car culture that sets the perfect stage.
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In the land of the Lamborghini Gallardo, it’s telling if a car stands out.

Miami-Dade is the realm of Astons, Jaguars, and Maseratis. But unlike, say, LA, the city’s appreciation is mostly for new cars. Miami’s still the only locale where yours has spied Porsche Carrera GTs – plural – on the road.

BMWs are popular here, too. While here, news hits that Miami’s mayor has lost his job following a public referendum. Notable in the list of grievances, his honor allegedly used city money to order himself a 550i GranTurismo.

Yes, Miami loves Bimmers. Almost two-to-one over Benzes by informal count; held one evening over cokes outside Coconut Grove’s Johnny Rockets on the corner of Grand Avenue and McFarlane. Audi seems to be gaining ground, though, judging by the numbers of new A4s and A5s.

The vast majority of eyes on the 335d were from fellow BMW drivers, however. Guys and girls in e46 and e90 3ers, e39 5ers, and even the higher-than-thou guys driving e65 6-series convertibles.

BMWs have pecking order, after all. So fall in line. Ah, but the 335d isn’t just any BMW.

One inquisitive X5 driver seemed surprised by this when after following us for a few miles on 95 he decided to drive up close to make out the “d” that follows the “335” on the trunklid before falling back.

That said, the true test in perception comes not from fellow drivers, per se, but the seen-it-all / driven-it-all valets. We made our way to the southern annex of NY’s own DB Bistro Moderne and we pulled up alongside a matching pair of rosso corsa Ferrari F430 Spiders. The head valet spied us in the 335d, smiled broadly and beckoned.

Handing over the key, it was telling how he had decided to linger in the driver’s seat for a spell; taking in the handsome cabin. It seems at any price point, people slot the 335d in that time-tested category – nice car.

No one seems to care that the engine purring quietly is a diesel.

GENTRIFIED DIESEL

The 335d is quite clearly the newest member of the most gentrified of 3-series generations to date. The sedan is taller and broader than its predecessors and points to a future more cosseted than ever – much to the dismay of driving enthusiasts who want to hear and feel the road.

In an important, midlife update, flame surfacing has been sculpted into a more agreeable form where character lines now make sense and those signature notched taillights are back and looking beautiful with bright LEDs.

The interior is a supple haven of leather and wood (though, the standard variant features cost-cutting leatherette at $46K). Aside from some updates, the architecture is Bangle-era ergonomics. Driver focused. But open.

There’s iDrive at hand and a really finicky GPS at your command. And those two cup-holders that slide out above the passengers legs, too. In this case, your passenger manages to skin hers twice on said holders. Good thing they’ve been axed on the new 5er and 7er.

For classic aficionados, there’s some old school BMW DNA inside.

E30 fans will delight in the functional doors that with one circular speaker surrounded by acres of leather trim remind us of the 80s.

A bone of contention are the similar feeling indicator and cruise control stocks. Each positioned close to each other and neatly concealed by the steering wheel rim, it’s easy to activate the cruise when trying to signal right.

“DYNAMIC PERFORMANCE”

On the road back from a sojourn to Everglades City.

It’s a comfortable, two-hour long cruise from Miami. Provided there’s no traffic leaving Miami, of course.

Highway 40, a.k.a. “Tamiami Trail”. is a straight, two-lane highway for as long as the eye can see. On one side, a canal lies shaded partly by mangroves. You spy the occasional Gator sunning itself on the banks. And also a dead one; its carcass being parted out by vultures.
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Dry season has hit the Florida Everglades and appreciable precipitation isn’t forecasted for weeks. Much of the inner waterways have turned brackish and you can see that some of the low-lying vegetation looks parched.

Still, in the comfy, air conditioned confines, your gentle 60 mph drive is yielding better than 50 mpg.

You’re not coasting or hypermiling; just applying a light right foot such that you’re maintaining speed and yielding extraordinary mileage according to both the fuel gauge and that horizontal, swing-needle mpg gauge, a hallmark of BMW interior design since time immemorial.

Of course your mileage results are aided by Florida’s manta-ray-flat landscape.

Returning to Miami in time for nightfall and you’re able to appreciate a different side of the 335d’s character. Traffic on the highways thins and this in turn allows for some play.

Grab the helm and you can feel the car’s energy through the plump, leather wrapped rim. The feel – sensual by automotive standards – stands up as the sharpest, most tactile, most sensationally rewarding steering-feel in the industry.

Dial into one of downtown Miami’s, roller coaster themed highway ramps and the 335d’s movement flows musically through canyons of skyscrapers.

Brilliance.

The handling lives up to folklore heralded by all those R&T and C&D issues from years past declaring BMW handling as masterful, engaging, and communicative.

This effort bests it predecessors by a healthy margin.

What doesn’t feel as brilliantly up to task is the suspension. Three quarters throttle and the avalanche of torque that surges you forward also forces the tail down and the nose up high. It’s so much fun! Still, stickler for performance will complain that this is old fashioned acceleration-induced tail squat.

Plant the throttle again and you feel your foot just squeeze out torque; channeled expertly through the intuitive Steptronic 6-Speed auto. The 335d simply shoots forward sans hesitation while the engine note grows into a fierce BBBBRRRRRRR; kind of like the angry growl from a 90s Jag.

Hitting the brakes doesn’t induce dive – rather controlled deceleration. But round a bumpy corner and you’ll notice a perceptible float in the rear that never existed on any 3-series starting from the e46 generation on back.

It’s a slightly softer blend of performance. But overall it’s so much fun. Not intensely serious like the M-Cars. In the 335d, unlike the M3, you don’t have to break the speed limit to have fun behind the wheel.

THE RETURN

Back in New Jersey. It’s late winter once more. Our brisker progress northward has lessened our mileage to the official 36 mpg highway.

Cold rain prompts action from the automatic wipers for the first time in your trip. It’s dismal. Montego-blue no longer pops exotically against a lively landscape, but rather garishly against the GSP’s grey gloom.

The diesel engine, which once purred in subtropical warmth, now has a slightly more gravely note on start up thanks to 40 degree temps. Still, it’s leagues quieter and more refined than most contemporary diesels found in Renaults or Vauxhalls.

The 335d is the consummate sports sedan. That “dynamic efficiency” is BMW’s tagline for its new diesel model seems altogether right.

How this 3-Series is fueled is in performance and most enthusiast terms – irrelevant. It does everything its unleaded stablemates do; only using at least 30% less fuel to do it. It’s the ultimate driving machine, uncompromised.

So, is America ready for a BMW diesel? Ja!