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Discussion Starter · #1 · (Edited)
Author's note: I would have posted this earlier, but it took me a while to figure out how to resize the pics to bimmerfest-friendly size.

May 4th, 3:30 pm: I'm in Redondo, visiting a family friend who's in the hospital unexpectedly. I get the good news that she's coming home, so I decide to cook up a welcome home feast at my brother's house. I hit Bristol Farms, gather the necessary ingredients, and begin heading south on PCH. I'm about to take a left onto Knob Hill when my eye catches a beautiful sight: an E39 M5, Carbon Black, headed north on PCH. I could have taken the unprotected left, but as I sometimes do when I see beautiful vehicles, I wait. I watch it as it motors by, admiring its classic, muscular lines. The moment passes, my reverie is over, and I inch forward into the intersection.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a 6 series, about 1/8 of a mile ahead. Again I wait to let it pass. But this is no ordinary 6 series.

Its lower fascia is completely black, sharply contrasting with the hood and fenders, which are quite clearly silver gray. That same lower fascia appears unusually aggressive: a gaping maw in the center, with a deep chin, flanked by two ducts. It's difficult to make out detail because of the amateur-ish black out job. But it looks mean. On the roof of the vehicle, just above the driver's window, are two short, black antennae. It looks like a set of old-school cell phone antennae. Or, perhaps, like modern telemetry antennae.

And just that quickly I realize that I am one lucky, lucky bastard. I think to myself, 'This **** never happens to me!' Only a few weeks ago I had put my digital camera in the car. Just in case, I thought at the time. In case of what I had no idea. Now I had my answer. But fate's blessing was not yet complete.

Immediately behind the disguised 6 was an undisguised sibling: a 645 convertible, Mystic Blue over Beige Leather, non-sport. After its predecessor, I'm unfazed. But bringing up the caboose of this fine train was another unmistakable vehicle: a E60 M5, again disguised in the half-assed style of the 6 series two cars in front of it.

I allow the M5 to pass, and quickly glance ahead to see if any other Bavarian delights were heading my way. Seeing none, I make a U-turn onto PCH, headed north and giving chase to vehicles that would easily outrun my car, given enough space. But space is the one thing they don't have on a weekday afternoon on Pacific Coast Highway. Camera in hand, I begin snapping pictures feverishly. Since the M5 was bringing up the rear, I got several good shots of it, including one rear-view-mirror angle that I might have to blow up and frame. I noted an unusual amount of damage on the passenger side rear fender. It's clearly visible in the pictures, and it leaves me wondering exactly what kind of testing this mule had seen.

My excitement builds as I follow the pack, now merging onto Palos Verdes Drive, and then through Malaga Cove. I do my best to drive prudently, while avoiding traffic and snapping pictures. My heart is pounding in my head. For once I question the wisdom of getting a manual transmission.

To the credit of the test driver, he remained calm and unfazed the entire time. He seemed content to allow me to snap pictures of his exclusive steed. He may have been genuinely concerned that this yahoo was going to crash into something while trying to capture his mount on disc.

With several pictures of the M5 on camera, I drop the 545 down a gear, and give chase to the true goal of my quest, the prize of my impromptu safari: the M6.

And finally my luck runs out. My camera emits the tell tale chirp which tells me that battery life is virtually nil. I curse Sony. I curse myself. I curse the Lithium-Ion gods. I manage to capture but one more picture.

I pull up alongside the 6 and gives the test driver a quick nod and an open handed salute. He responds by dropping the beast down a gear, and rocketing from 40 mph to perhaps 75. Its acceleration is breathtaking. I'm left in a cloud of M6 dust, and the sound...that sound! Metallic, but unlike the rasp of the M3. Throaty, with a basso profundo tone. And upon acceleration, a mad shriek, like a scalded cat. That sound still rings in my ears.

So my friends, my fellow enthusiasts: I now present these pictures to you, for your enjoyment and edification. And, my brothers and sisters, I can tell you truthfully and without reservation or evasion: I have seen the future, and it is good.
 

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damn...
 

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I wish I could write as well as you do :p
 
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