Classic M5

These were the days when BMW's Motorsport division was more than just a meaningless marketing sub-brand. It meant grim-faced race mechanics, who hand-built the whole car with Snap-on tools taken from blood-red chests to the accompaniment of Wagnerian music that got them meaned up in the morning.

The first M5 was a mean machine, all right. It debuted at the 1985 Amsterdam motor show and consisted of a Dingolfing-built 535i chassis that was torn off the production line and taken to BMW's motorsport workshop in Garching, Munich, to be fitted with its hot engine, stiffened suspension and unique interior trim.

And what an engine it was. The M88 was a down-tuned version of the short-stroke, 3.5-litre, twin-cam, 24-valve straight six from the M1 supercar. It breathed through short inlet trumpets, was stirred into life via a forest of bell cranks, and the European version had no exhaust catalyst and delivered 286bhp at a sonorous 6,500rpm: enough to spirit this square-set, 1.5-ton, four-door saloon to more than 150mph and give scintillating acceleration. It was also reasonably well mannered and able to idle without overheating.

But open up the six throttles and the M5 took off like a scalded stoat. In the days before traction control it could lay down an avenue of tyre smoke.

Driving expert Paul Ripley rates it as one of his favourite cars and there was plenty of room for four adults and luggage. Its Achilles' heel was grip in the rain, when it was difficult to keep in a straight line.

BMW M5 E28

1985 to 1987

Engine 3,420cc straight-six

How fast? 153mph, 0-60mph in 6.2 seconds

Economy 18.5mpg

Price £10,000 for a good one

Why you want one The ultimate road smoker. Just 187 right-hand drive examples were built in Munich and 2,145 in total, so it's one of the rarest of the modern-generation BMWs.

Why you don't It eats brake discs, needs careful servicing and there are loads of fakes out there.

You might not know Before he became a star, Jeremy Clarkson helped a friend with a tow start on an original M5. They carefully removed the bodywork plate, attached a tow rope and Clarkson set off around Fulham at a rate of knots.

Instead of starting, the BMW slowed to a halt while Clarkson disappeared down the road with a load of components jangling on the end of the tow rope. It turns out they'd attached the rope to the oil cooler and pulled it straight through the front of the car.