1200 Coastal Miles in an Aging BMW

It’s been a while since there has been a new entry here. Over a year. The reasons for that may seem obvious, however that didn’t seem to stop many people from traveling and taking roadtrips over the heart of the COVID-19 surge.

I did take an extremely truncated trip to Palm Springs, but in all honesty, I never felt comfortable enough with the state of the pandemic to take a trip. At the time I was living with my parents, who, for as healthy as they are, would still be considered “high-risk” for the virus. Couple that with some internal anxiety about being in unfamiliar spaces for too long (an anxiety that truly is the antithesis of this entire diary), I didn’t have the desire to travel too far from the nest for a good long while. I still haven’t taken a flight since January 2020.

I did, however, gather the courage to attend the 2021 Bay Area BMW 2002 Swap and Show. My BMW 1600, Old Blue, was driving great around town, so I figured why not try to stretch its legs and visit another locale. I also hadn’t been to the Swap and Show since 2011 - a full decade ago.

I planned the roadtrip out with several stops along the way north, all hugging the coast along Highway 1. It had been a few years since I made it up through Big Sur, so I made the decision to head up early on a weekday, to try and soak it in with minimal traffic. The Swap and Show was on a Saturday; I departed my West LA apartment Monday night and blasted towards Carpinteria, where I spent the night with my Aunt and Uncle and their two birds. It was nice to see them and especially partake in their daily morning ritual of watching the old western “Gunsmoke” with the birds.

I left Carp and headed over the Lake Cachuma pass (154) and had an easy drive up to downtown SLO, where I stopped for a few photos. Then on to a hipster coffee shop for refueling. While wolfing down some pastries, I was approached by Cooper, who I’ve known on Instagram for a good while. Cooper and his family run a vintage BMW restoration shop in the Bay Area called “The Resto Shop.” He happened to be driving by and spotted the 1600 so he stopped in. It was an extremely serendipitous encounter that makes me grateful to be in our tight knit vintage BMW community.

Once departing SLO, I meandered towards the elephant seal lookout in San Simeon on Highway 1, and then on to Carmel. This part of the drive was really what I was looking forward to most on this adventure, as the purity of the California coast is unmatched as far as scenic drives go in the US. The view out the windshield is a consistent ocean view on the left, with rolling and sweeping hills on the right. And since this was a Tuesday, there was minimal traffic and I was really able to enjoy the curves that circled the perimeter of the mountains. I even got some cool in-car video with my old GoPro. When I arrived to Carmel at dusk, I took perhaps the best photos I’ve ever taken of this car (or at all).

The next morning I went and stared at the ocean in Carmel and found a very fitting poem by Robert Frost called “The Road Not Taken.” The beginning lines were poignant and read: “Two Roads Diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both.”

I hit Highway 1 heading north through farmland, and decided on a lunch stop at Tabby Cat Café in Santa Cruz, which I chose for name-related reasons (I love my tabby) before hitting Highway 9 and the roads through Big Basin. Holy moly, did this drive make me envious of my Bay Area friends. Not only are the roads epically twisty and scenic, surrounded by redwoods, they are also dotted with adorable small towns with shops and eateries. Our twisty roads in SoCal are often isolated to areas further from civilization, which does make them a little bit more “free,” but there’s a lack of any other activity besides driving. For some of us roadnerds (TM), it’s comforting to have something to break up a windy road.

I drove almost 90 miles in the mountains that day, and Old Blue hadn’t skipped a beat, even when I was tailing 3 Lucid Airs on my way to Half Moon Bay. Only once did I feel the single circuit braking system start to fade. And the car continued to be spectacular over the next couple days, zigzagging through the hills of San Francisco and over all of the epic bridges, even proving to be a good taxi.

Riley, a friend of mine who runs a shop called “The Paddock,” had flown to the Bay Area to pick up a 1966 2000TI racecar that he purchased on BringATrailer, which he was then going to take to the Bay Area 02 show. I took him to the car in Emeryville and witnessed him seeing his purchase for the first time in the flesh. He hopped in and to skip Friday night traffic, we elected to drive the long way back to the South Bay where we were both staying - over the North Bay Bridge, through some twisties to Tiburon for dinner. Then we would cruise over the Golden Gate and he was to pick up his better half, Anna, from SFO.

Just after we crossed through Golden Gate Park, a familiar red light came on Old Blue’s dashboard. Those who know these old BMWs know that there are only 2 dash lights that can spell problems: the orange light indicating low oil pressure, and the red charging light. At this point, my phone was at 2% battery, it was dark, and there weren’t many good places to pull over along this urban stretch of Highway 1. The charging system in my car still uses an external voltage regulator, so I tried whacking it with a screwdriver to see if the issue was that it was just sticking. No dice. Something in the system was dying, so I figured that I had whatever juice was left in the battery to get me back to my Airbnb in Burlingame and that was IT.

I let Riley head down to the airport and had to make a mental calculation - flag someone down and borrow their phone for a tow, OR, bomb it the 20 miles south and hope, just hope that the BMW gods would get me to my stop. One was clearly more exciting than the other

I opted for the latter.

What ensued over the next 10 minutes was an insanely dangerous banzai highway drive. I had the headlights OFF (9 PM at night, remember) in an effort to conserve battery, while doing freeway speeds. They came on when another car would merge onto the freeway, so I could let them know I was there. I only used my turn signals when necessary, opting for hazards when there were more cars around. The car was driving phenomenally well, in lieu of the doomsday dash light. But then, as I got on 101 S from 280 S, I noticed something. The red light in my dash wasn’t just lit. It was melting. My out-of-practice engineering-degree-trained brain deduced that this could only mean one thing.

I wasn’t running out of battery. I had too much! The battery was probably going to explode!

At that point, on went the headlights. Radio. Even the blower fan. It never really blows anything besides lukewarm air, but hey, desperate times call for desperate measures. And even though my phone was dead, I was lucky to remember the streets near my Airbnb and I successfully made it to my overnight stop. I was also lucky that my Airbnb was in Burlingame, only 10 minutes away from the next morning’s show. I could unplug the voltage regulator and ACTUALLY drive there only on battery power.

Safe and sound at the Airbnb

And the THIRD reason I was lucky, is that not only is the Bay Area 02 event a car show, it’s a damn swap meet. Meaning, there was a guarantee that the parts I needed were available to buy, and I could install them at the show with all of the collective BMW wisdom surrounding me. If there was a breakdown situation to have, it was most definitely this one. So before the show, I woke up early and walked to an ATM in Burlingame’s quaint downtown area, so I could have some cash to acquire whatever parts I needed.

It goes without saying that the Bay Area crew always have a good time and put on a great show. Seeing old friends was the highlight - I certainly enjoy seeing the cars, but at this point, these shows are really more about the people. I spent the first hour of the show catching up with people, but also perusing the swap meet. I walked away with a good used (and tested!) alternator, and 3 voltage regulators, one of which was new-old-stock.

With the supervision of Bill Arnold, I swapped in a new voltage regulator, which, in theory, is supposed to maintain a constant level of voltage from the alternator. No change. I then noted to Bill that the light in the cluster was melting - his conclusion was a failed diode in the alternator, so the alternator in fact was overcharging everything.

Towards the end of the show, my friend Kyle helped me swap over the new alternator. Interestingly, Kyle and I met while we both lived in Chicago - he restored his 2002 in a rented garage just outside the city limits. He and his partner Monica moved to the Bay Area only earlier this year, so it was cool for us to finally get together at a west coast BMW event. We then tested our alternator work by racing down to Scotts Valley for the after party, graciously hosted by Steve Kupper.

The next day, Riley, Anna, and I cruised down the 101 back to LA. It was nice to be in a caravan on this part of the drive, because if something were to happen to either my car or Riley’s brand new-to-him racecar, we at least had extra tools and hands to fix something if needed. But that wasn’t necessary - we sailed down through the hot central valley and eventually to coastal PCH and Malibu traffic. Old Blue even did 32 miles to the gallon while averaging 70 mph - incredible for a car that’s 53 years old.

Me and riley with the two cars at Laguna Seca

Dirty windshield and an ocean view

I mentioned above that I’ve developed some covid related travel anxiety during the pandemic If I’m completely honest with myself, it’s not just covid related. It’s also a fear of “something going wrong” while on a roadtrip in an old car, which is ironically the antithesis of who I’ve become over the last 5 years (and everything written at this url). It took a trip like this one to remind me that things CAN go wrong while on a roadtrip, and that’s okay. That happened, and the most harrowing commute in my life became one of the most exciting and thrilling on-edge adventures I could’ve had.

Old Blue is still running the dirty alternator I got at the swap meet, and has had 0 complaints. This car is a constant reminder for me that things will generally work out, and if they don’t, it’s usually just another bump in the road. The road hasn’t ended.