I felt the scrape before I heard it. Just a gentle friction coming from the offside front wheel, rubbing its polished aluminum against the low curb. Any other vehicle would have a large tire at that point, and the rubber would rub and the driver would say oops, and that would be the end of it.
Not the 2017 BMW M2, though. Its shallow profile tires meant the 19-inch rim was low and protruded out from under the bead, aggressive and meaning business. The M2 was fabulous when I drove it on the track at Laguna Seca; here, outside the house in England where I was born, everything a little scuffed, not so much.
Take note of the BMW M2’s shallow profile tires or – like this writer – you might end up curbing it.
"Can I help you?" The owner of the house called to me from the front door. He had no idea why somebody was manoeuvring a Long Beach Blue Bimmer outside his home. I'd rung the doorbell a couple of minutes earlier, then hopped back in the car to pull it better on the road into the potential camera frame for a photograph.
The homeowner wasn't concerned, but he was curious. Bad types don't usually pull up in such bright cars.
"Sounds like you just curbed it," the owner said helpfully, from the doorway. "You're not the first to do that here."
I got out of the car – on the wrong side, of course, this being England – and took a look at the wheel. The scuff wasn't too bad, but it was annoying, as though it was a scar on an otherwise perfect face. If it had been a scar that proved manliness, or courage, or some form of heroism, it would be okay – but it wasn't that kind of scar at all. It proved my depth perception was off and that I wasn't worthy to drive such a beautiful vehicle.
The BMW M2 is comfortable and practical.
The BMW M2 is this year's jewel in the crown of the German car maker. It's a wonderful car: powerful, compact and sporty when you want it to be; comfortable and practical when you need to get somewhere. And I'm not just saying that because I feel guilty about curbing it. It really is everything Bimmer fans were hoping for after the 1M Coupe of 2011.
The homeowner knew the car for what it was. He's British, home of Top Gear, where everyone cares about cars. But he was more curious about me, for ringing his doorbell and then flinging my wheel against his curb. He looked at me from the step with a knitted brow, waiting for an explanation.
I strode forward and introduced myself. "I just wanted to tell you," I said, aware I was under scrutiny, "that I used to live in this house back in the 1960s. In fact, I was born in this house, in that room, in 1962." And I pointed at the main upstairs window. "My aunt was the midwife while my dad waited in the kitchen." The owner looked even more suspicious now.
The BMW M2 is this year’s jewel in the crown of the German car maker.
"I just wanted to see the house, maybe get a photo outside it, which is why I was moving the car. This garage is new, though, and the room above it. And there used to be a big willow tree in the back garden. I used to swing from the willow tree."
The owner's face finally softened. This was proprietary knowledge.
"My parents bought this house in 1982," he said. "And I've always lived here. Nowhere else. The willow had to come down some time in the nineties, but I remember swinging from it, too. It was a wonderful tree."
We reminisced a little more and he invited me in, but I declined. Time was getting on, and besides, they say you can never go home again. I was happy to stop at the front step.
The 2017 BMW M2.
"You've done well for yourself," said the owner, nodding toward the car. "It's good to know somebody successful was born here."
I didn't like to tell him the car was only a press vehicle, but I did share that I'd moved long ago to Canada and found a new life there. He seemed pleased. We shook hands and I strode back to the car, thumbed the starter and snicked into first gear.
I watched in the mirror as I pulled away from the curb, leaving only the slightest brush of aluminum against the concrete. I wish I'd known then the scuff would later buff out to be imperceptible. The owner was still by his door and seemed to be saying something to himself. Perhaps: "Even if you don't know how to bloody park."
Surely not.