Mooove B** Get Out The Way – Blasting Down the Autobahn

Our managing editor recalls his first ever experience blasting down the Autobahn, and being made to feel very slow.

2007 was a particularly good year for me. I attended my first-ever Formula One race. Drove many special cars in beautiful locations. Celebrated a milestone birthday. And, I got to drive on a German Autobahn for the first time. I recall the occasion as though it happened last week.

I was a guest of BMW and we had made our way to Germany by way of Spain. In sunny Espana we drove the, then, brand-new V8 M3. The hills of the Ronda region must’ve echoed with the roar of that high-revving motor for days after we left. And I am pretty sure the tyre stripes still remain on Ascari Race Resort’s many tight corners.

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Heading for Germany

After our introduction to the new M3 we headed north to BMW’s home. In Munich our group fetched four V10 M cars: M5, M5 Touring, M6 Cabrio and M6 Coupe. The latter was my choice for the long highway trek to our next destination. The V10-powered M6 is a car that I had experienced before as it pre-dated the E92 M3.

I had driven the different derivatives on SA soil. But to have access to 373 kW on a derestricted motorway was going to be special. As some of you may already know, Germany’s motorway network isn’t entirely speed-limit free. There are very specific sections where one can ‘cut loose’. In fact, the places where one can do so have been significantly reduced over the years.

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A Waiting Game

Anyway, it was 2007 and there were going to be many options on our chosen path. The trip away from the airport was chock-full of traffic and therefore quite slow. Our 40-cylinder convoy pulled over to a service station for some Super100 about an hour after setting off as the 5,0-litre Beemers were quite thirsty, and their occupants were quite hungry by this point.

With cars and passengers refueled we rejoined, probably, the best road network in the world. About 20 minutes later, after we had taken a new path towards our destination, I saw it in the distance. SA scribes referred to it as the ‘cricket ball’. It is a white circular sign with a set of diagonal lines, sorta like an ODI cricket ball, that indicates the removal of any speed limit.

Click here to learn more about why Germany’s motorways are receiving more speed restrictions.

Full Beans

We were already travelling at the national limit when I spotted the sign. But my co-pilot, who had driven in Germany many times before, warned me that I could only ‘gun it’ after. We may get fined if we were impatient. I dropped a few gears in anticipation, but kept the speed constant; waiting… waiting… waiting…

The moment we were level with the sign I mashed the throttle to unleash all five HUNDRED horses under the hood (remember when 500 bhp cars were really special? – Ed). Within moments we were flying along. The BMs speedo dialing up numbers at the same rate as the US national debt. I glanced down, ‘180’. I had to remind myself that things can happen quickly at those speeds so I lifted my eyes back to the arrow-straight road ahead. The scenery blurred, faster and faster. My co-pilot was calling out the speedo readings: 200, 225, 250. The big coupe was pulling relentlessly. Until…

Ending the Fun

The car suddenly slowed its rate of acceleration. Before I knew it, the electronic limiter called time. The speedo needle was not budging from 265. Bummer. We had heard stories that some press units in Germany were uncorked. Unfortunately, ours was not one of them. At any rate, 265 km/h (indicated), or probably a true 250 km/h was faster than I had ever been up until that point. So I was feeling pretty chuffed with myself, bouncing off the top-speed limiter, in the fast lane feeling like the king of the road. But that feeling didn’t last long.

Hunted Down

My co-pilot glanced into the rearview mirror and said: “We have company.” For a moment my stomach tightened as I thought it was the Polizei. In my excitement, I hadn’t bothered to look at the rearview once, figuring I only needed to know what was going on up ahead. I was wrong.

There was a car so close to the rear bumper of the big Beemer that we could hardly tell what it was. Just part of the drivers head and the roof of the car was visible. I immediately clicked on my turn signal to move over. Before the M6 even had four wheels across in the next lane it was being passed at a rate of knots by the unmistakable shape of a 911.

The grey coupe shot by so quickly that we could join it in the fast lane milliseconds later. For a brief moment I thought I would be able to slipstream the Turbo, but once we hit 260 again, it was game over. We watched the curvy and bespoilered rump blast off towards the horizon, putting massive distance between us.

Stay in Your Lane

It was a properly memorable experience: going flat out on the Autobahn for the first time, one that I wish every petrolhead experiences at least once in their life. I’ve been fortunate enough to do so a few times since, in a number of cars at even higher speeds, and once even with an Aussie Supercar race driver as co-pilot.

But the overwhelming memory of that first time is how that 911 Turbo smacked us down, as if to say: Get back in your place, leave the fast lane for the really fast cars…