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This was another very fun car that slowly degraded over time. Cars just didn't last as long then as they do now.
From the first day I owned this car I was never sure if it was going to start when I needed it to start. I always kept a can of ether in the trunk to help. (You know, you take off the air cleaner, squirt the either in the carburetor, then run into the car and hit the ignition before all the ether evaporates. If you are luck, it gives you enough juice to start the car and get the fuel into the engine.)
I was living in an apartment complex called Indian Springs on Watonga street in Houston at the time. I thought it was pretty cool to own a BMW, even on old, unreliable, rusty, beat-up BMW. The woman who lived downstairs from me drove a brand new Porsche 924. I was always trying to make time with her to no avail. I think that once I even said, "I own a BMW" to impress her. The problem was that she knew which BMW it was, so it didn't work.
I moved to Denver in the summer of 1981 and drove this car up there. It made it all the way, and then promptly failed. I was in the parking lot of a large liquor store between Denver and Golden and was trying the ether trick when the battery went dead. A fellow in a Ferrari drove up to give me some advice. "You're flooding it" he said. Floor the gas pedal and it will dump the gas". I told him that what I really needed was a jump, as my battery had died. He just raised his electric window and drove away.
This was the only car I have ever had that was broken into. While it was parked at the apartment complex in Denver someone slim jimmed the door, popped the hood, and stole the upper radiator hose and the little plastic cover that protected the fuses (the fuse box cover). I was able to replace both for about $10.
That was the last totally unreliable car I owned, but not the last car to leave me stranded.
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