june-2010

38
JUNE 2010 | UNITED.COM
Sunny Side Up
THIS YEAR’S BMW M3 CONVERTIBLE MAY BE THE MOST SEDUCTIVE
RAGTOP EVER MADE. // BY MIKE GUY
THERE ARE SUNNY DAYS, and then there
are sunny days in L.A. The light here—
golden and chock-full of good vibes—is
best experienced in a convertible. A
fast one. With a great sound system.
Something like the 2010 BMW M3, a
class leader with impeccable lines and a
very rowdy inner life.
The Bimmer is a car with movie
star good looks, but its real talent lies
under the hood, where it hides a highly
immodest turbo-charged 4.0-liter V-8
that churns out 414 horsepower and
295 foot pounds of torque—enough
to pin you to the expertly crafted seat
and keep you there in a warm embrace.
The setup includes a nav system that
gives you several route options and
integrates real-time traffi c reports—
critical information in the stop-and-go
world of L.A. driving. Could this be the
ultimate SoCal ride? Over the course of
a day spent darting from Beverly Hills
to a backyard barbecue in Silverlake
to a Fatburger in West Hollywood and
along some of the most beloved canyon
roads in the world, I aim to fi nd out.
Alas, the M3 has the mileage of a
bygone time (16 mpg combined), so I
start off at dawn with an injection of
karma at a power-yoga class on the
beach in Santa Monica. Afterward I sip
water from a coconut, open the hardtop
roof, climb down into the low-slung
cockpit and push the “engine start”
button. The V-8 roars to life. I parade
past a long line of parked Priuses on
Main Street, and heads turn. The M3
is a vision of beauty with the growl of a
guard dog and the grace of a yogi.
As I pick my way across town,
through West Hollywood and
Beverly Hills, the warm air dries the
perspiration in my hair. Eventually I
wheels
guide the M3 onto the I-10 to Topanga
Canyon and fi nd one of the sweetest
strips of tarmac ever laid: Mulholland
Drive. With the majestic sun setting
over the Pacifi c, I rocket into winding
I parade past a line of Priuses in Santa Monica,
and heads turn. The M3 is a vision of beauty, with
the growl of a guard dog and the grace of a yogi.
blind curves and drops in elevation.
The wide tires hoover the asphalt in the
turns. The brakes are 14-inch dinner
platters. The air is rich with eucalyptus
and lavender blossoms—the whole
canyon smells like an ayurvedic spa—
and as I stop at the intersection of the
Pacifi c Coast Highway, a Beach Boys
song comes on the radio. Brian Wilson
is singing about his little deuce coupe;
TRANSTOCK
BY
he thinks that “if I had a set of wings
man I know she could fl y.” I know
exactly what he means. Los Angeles
never felt so good. PHOTOGRAPH