The Sixer Preservation Society
Six times around the world is enough. Or is it?

The earth is a big place, never more so than for the hardy soul who would drive around its circumference at the equator. We’re talking 24,902 miles, to be exact, just over twelve days of continuous driving at a reasonable Oklahoma Turnpike speed of 85mph. Multiply that distance by an appropriate factor of 6, and you arrive at exactly the mileage displayed on the odometer of my ‘83 633CSi a few days ago.

While many vehicles might bring more speed to the task, others more comfort, few would make such an arduous global journey with the style and grace of BMW’s classic coupe of the 1970s & 80s. When she rolled off the Dingolfing line east of Munich in December 1982, the odds were not good that my polaris silver Sixer would ever see 149,412 miles.

Between then and now, there would be millions of cars, trucks, and SUVs sweep by her sculpted flanks with mere inches of clearance at combined speeds well in excess of 100mph. Think of the countless hazards she would encounter: the chunked tires of semis, the potholes and animals and blue-haired ladies in Detroit iron all combining into an unimaginable sum of threats to her safe passage.

But she made it, my silbersix. No mangled steel, no shattered glass, no blood on the highway. A new-millennium survivor, she is a handsome relic of another age, an understated beauty with a purity of design and purpose that one sees all too rarely these days, Z8s and Boxsters notwithstanding.

A privilege to have you in my keeping, 633CSi.

Given the luxury of means and choice, there comes a time when the owner of any aging classic begins to ponder the bigger picture. In using my Sixer as a daily driver, I admit to a steadily growing reluctance over the past year to pull her out of a dry garage into the threatening world of rain and snow and parking at Walmart. And while her cooling system copes okay with the summer heat of the southwest, it’s a fact that the air conditioning of a 6 Series will never give complete satisfaction when the air temp is 100 degrees or more.

All of which is to say, as much as I love driving her, I’ve decided my Sixer’s well-being is best served by pulling her off the road as a daily driver. Six times around the world is enough. She’s earned the right to enjoy the sunlit uplands of Collector Car status.

No more driving her in the rain and the snow. No more runs to Walmart. Only BMW CCA events, like foliage tours, Oktoberfests and show & shines, and the occasional weekend workout on the backroads of northwest Arkansas and eastern Oklahoma will lure my silbersix from the comfort of her garage. Her mechanical and cosmetic condition is just fine, thank you, and the occasional application of Lexol keeps her aged red leather looking and smelling just right. Altogether, she’s well-poised for trip #7 around the world.

So how do you replace the daily driving experience of a classic BMW coupe?

In my case, you don’t even try. You keep and use the 6 Series for what she was meant for, and in the strum und drang of daily driving go for something completely different.

Something big.

Something made in America.

Something, in fact, you’ve never owned before in your life.

Do I hear the words “pickup truck?”

It’s true. A bronze gold ‘88 Dodge Ram 150LE now sits outside my garage, on 24/7 duty as a duly appointed member of the Sixer Preservation Society.

With styling from the 1970s (just like me) and go-power from a small-block V-8, the Dodge provides a different automotive experience than any I’ve ever had. More visceral, more manly. In a farm and ranch kind of way, the Ram is a cool ride.

Not to say I have no experience with pickups. My dad owned several when I was growing up, including a ‘41 Chevy, a ‘48 Dodge and a ‘53 Chevy. I still remember peeling out of A&W in the Dodge one night as a teenager and ruining the clutchplate in the process. But it was easily fixed. I was impressed by the simplicity of a truck then, and now all over again with my ram-on-the-hood Ram.

A 1/2-ton LWB (that’s Long Wide Bed to you non-truck types), the Dodge comes to me with a 2-owner history. For the last five years it has belonged to a retired couple who live about ten miles up the road from my house. It was their gettin’ around and goin’ to town truck, until they decided last month to get a brand new red Dodge Ram Cummins Turbodiesel. In answering their classified ad for the ‘88, I first saw the truck as it sat in the shade under a tree next to their house, complete with aluminum camper shell mit roll-out windows. Just about perfect for your basic hunting or fishing weekends. Of course, I’ll be using the Sixer on weekends, so let me know if you’re looking for a nice used camper shell.

The Ram’s 318 c.i. (5.2 liter) V-8 with throttle body injection and electronic ignition sits in a cavernous engine bay designed to hold Chrysler’s biggest 1970’s big block. The LE trim means that my truck (I like the sound of that) has a 3-speed automatic, AC, power windows and locks, tilt wheel and cruise control. It runs on regular unleaded gas, a good thing given the 30 gallons required for a fill-up. On the road, the still-pristine tan cloth bench seat affords a commanding view of fellow travelers. I especially like having a complete set of gauges to keep track of water temp, oil pressure and battery charge. The body is rust-free, and the 8-ft. bed is on standby for the occasional light hauling mission, like mulch or Sixer parts. All this, for less than the price of a nice set of M3 wheels and tires.

How many miles on the clock, you ask?

Let’s just say I’ve been giving some attention over the past few days to the front suspension, brakes, U-joints and motor mounts. I’ve also spent some quality time under the hood replacing plugs, plug wires, hoses, belts and filters. The Ram runs like, well, like a ram, so much so that you’d never know it’s traveled over six times around the globe.

That’s right. My new pickup truck is a survivor of 158,955 miles. No mangled steel, no shattered glass and no blood on the highway. The Dodge’s original paint is still glossy (and waxes out perfectly), and its new Michelins run smooth and quiet on 15” factory turbine alloys. Glass pack mufflers and dual exhausts (with chrome tips) add just the right amount of attitude as the Dodge and I take to the road together in the cause of the Sixer Preservation Society.

So, fellow Bimmerphiles, be on the lookout for a clean ‘88 Ram (or on the weekend, an ‘83 6-Series). The driver will probably be wearing a goofy grin, a BMW ballcap and a slightly incredulous expression at just how things automotive turn out in the most unexpected ways.

Just ask my wife.  -Rick Sparks

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