All posts by Francis Mitterrand

Bluebird Aero: How a Jet-Powered Featherweight Is Chasing Britain’s Next Speed Record

There’s something deeply British about trying to go absurdly fast in something that looks like it escaped from a kid’s downhill derby. The Bluebird Aero is exactly that kind of beautifully unhinged machine: a jet-powered, composite-tubbed, 47-kilogram projectile built by a tiny team of engineers who think 100 mph is a reasonable target for something that barely weighs more than a sack of cement.

This is not a car in the way we normally use the word. It has no engine in the traditional sense, no drivetrain, no gears, and no illusions about being practical. It’s a land-speed record weapon, inspired by the legendary Bluebird machines of Malcolm and Donald Campbell, scaled down to soapbox size but infused with aerospace thinking.

At the center of it all is Russell Annison, a veteran of the Bloodhound land-speed-record project and a former Lola wind-tunnel specialist. Alongside CAD wizard and driver Matt Sadler and brakes guru Adam Rogers, Annison has created something that looks simple but is anything but. The Aero’s carbon-fiber and aluminum-honeycomb monocoque traces its lineage directly back to a Lola gravity racer built for the Goodwood Festival of Speed in 2013. That car was all about minimal drag, and the Aero inherits that obsession.

With a drag coefficient of just 0.22 and an ultra-small frontal area, the Bluebird Aero cheats the air like a racing bullet. Which is a good thing, because its propulsion comes from something equally ridiculous: a 2.8-kilogram gas-turbine jet engine built by JetCat, a German firm better known for powering radio-controlled model aircraft. Spinning at up to 123,000 rpm and delivering 17 kilograms of thrust, the little turbine fires a 700-mph jet stream out the back. It’s loud, violent, and wildly inappropriate—and that’s the point.

In May 2024, Annison strapped himself into the Aero and set a record at 55 mph for a prototype dual-propulsion electric-and-jet vehicle. Even more impressive than the number was the way it got there: the car was still accelerating after the jet was shut down, proof that the aero efficiency is doing some of the heavy lifting.

Now the team wants nearly double the speed. With new 3D-printed dive planes increasing front-end downforce under braking, Annison believes the power is already there for a near-100-mph run. The real enemies now are stability and tires. Yes—tires. The Aero currently rides on Schwalbe bicycle rubber, which is very good at being round but not so great at being asked to survive speeds normally reserved for highway traffic.

Under the skin, the Aero is an engineering jewel box. The bicycle-sourced disc brakes are water-spray cooled. The fuel tank is a bespoke welded aluminum unit. The low-pressure fuel system is designed specifically to reduce fire risk in what is, essentially, a rolling jet engine wrapped in carbon fiber.

If everything aligns, the team hopes to make another run in May—exactly two years after their last record. That timing isn’t accidental. It would coincide with the long-awaited return of Donald Campbell’s restored Bluebird K7 jet hydroplane to Coniston Water, the site of his fatal 1967 attempt to exceed 300 mph. In other words, it would be a week where British speed history gets a very loud encore.

But the Bluebird Aero isn’t just about one team grabbing one number. Annison wants to turn this into a competition. His goal is to challenge students and young engineers to build their own rival micro-record cars and go after the mark. The Aero itself already travels to schools as a rolling STEM ambassador—a 100-mph physics lesson with a jet engine.

In an era when the car industry is increasingly about software, subscriptions, and sterile efficiency, the Bluebird Aero is a reminder of something more visceral: speed as a pure engineering problem. How light can you go? How clean can you slice the air? And how fast can you make something that, on paper, shouldn’t even exist?

A 100-mph soapbox shouldn’t make sense. That’s exactly why it does.

Source: Autocar

BMW’s Last Great Gasoline Act Before Neue Klasse Rewrites the Script

BMW is standing at the edge of its biggest philosophical pivot since it stopped pretending the E46 didn’t peak civilization. The company’s upcoming Neue Klasse platform promises an EV-first architecture, software-defined interiors, and a visual reboot bold enough to make the current 4-Series grille look timid. Progress, in other words. Necessary progress.

But while Munich is busy architecting its electric future, the best versions of BMW’s gasoline past are quietly on sale right now.

And if you care about how BMWs feel—how they steer, rev, and breathe—this moment matters more than you think.

The 3- and 4-Series: Peak Modern BMW

The current G20 3-Series and its 4-Series siblings represent something rare in the auto industry: a fully developed platform at the end of its life cycle. Everything has been optimized. The bugs are gone. The engines are sorted. The chassis tuning has been sharpened.

The 330i remains one of the best entry-luxury sedans in the business because it still follows the BMW playbook: rear-drive balance, a turbocharged four that actually likes to rev, and steering that gives you more information than a Tesla’s screen ever will.

But the real hero here is the M340i. BMW’s B58 inline-six is one of those engines engineers will still talk about in 20 years, right alongside the M54 and N52. It’s smooth, brutally quick, and shockingly durable for something making this much power. The M340i is that rare car that feels equally happy demolishing highway on-ramps or hauling groceries without making either task feel silly.

The 4-Series cars—coupe, Gran Coupe, and convertible—bring the same mechanical excellence, just wrapped in styling that looks like BMW tried to annoy half the internet on purpose. And somehow, it worked.

The M3 and M4: The Last of a Breed

The G80 M3 and G82 M4 may go down in history as the final truly traditional M cars. Yes, they’re turbocharged. Yes, they’re packed with electronics. But crucially, you can still buy them with rear-wheel drive and a six-speed manual—two features that feel increasingly endangered in 2026.

The S58 inline-six is a monster. But more importantly, these cars still feel mechanical. You sense the drivetrain working beneath you. You feel the weight transfer. You manage traction rather than letting software do it for you.

Electrification is coming to M cars. BMW has already said as much. Hybrid systems will bring more power, more torque, and more mass. All impressive. All inevitable. And all guaranteed to change the way these cars feel.

Right now, an M3 or M4 is already hilariously fast on public roads. The next generation will likely be even more so. But when half throttle sends you into triple-digit speeds, something gets lost in translation. The current cars may end up being remembered as the sweet spot—when absurd performance still came with usable, tactile engagement.

The M240i: A Hidden Gem Before It Disappears

In a lineup increasingly dominated by SUVs and EVs, the M240i almost feels like BMW forgot to cancel it.

It’s compact. It’s rear-drive based. It has a B58 inline-six. And it costs about $15,000 less than an M2 while delivering 90 percent of the experience.

This is the kind of car BMW built its reputation on: small, fast, and unapologetically driver-focused. As the brand moves toward scalable EV platforms and global efficiency targets, niche combustion coupes like this become increasingly difficult to justify.

If you want a modern BMW that feels like an old BMW, the M240i might be your last affordable ticket.

SUVs Are Changing Too

BMW’s SUVs aren’t immune to the coming shift. The current X5 sits at a perfect crossroads—refined, powerful, and loaded with internal-combustion options that range from silky six-cylinders to thunderous V8s.

The next X5, influenced by Neue Klasse thinking, will be far more electrified and far more digital. BMW says it’ll offer gas, hybrid, hydrogen, and EV versions—but the personality of the vehicle is going to change dramatically.

Then there’s the Alpina XB7, which currently exists in a glorious niche of subtle luxury and boosted V8 madness. With nearly 900 horsepower on the horizon and electrification looming, the next iteration won’t just be faster—it will be fundamentally different.

Even the Z4 Is Fading Away

The Z4 M40i is almost comically old-school by modern standards: a two-seat roadster, a straight-six, rear-wheel drive, and iDrive 7 instead of a wall of screens.

And it’s nearly gone.

Production is winding down, and there’s no clear EV successor waiting in the wings. Low-volume gas sports cars are becoming regulatory liabilities, and electric roadsters remain a commercial question mark. When the Z4 exits, it will take a whole philosophy with it.

The End of an Era

Neue Klasse will bring efficiency, performance, and technological leaps that make today’s BMWs look quaint. But it will also close a chapter.

BMW built its reputation on engines—inline-sixes that felt like precision instruments, and drivetrains that made you want to drive longer just for the hell of it. The electric future may be faster. It may be cleaner. It will almost certainly be smarter.

But it won’t feel like this.

The last of BMW’s old-school greatness is sitting on dealer lots right now, quietly waiting for buyers who still care about how a car makes them feel. If that’s you, the clock is ticking.

Source: BMW

BMW’s Cheapest Race Car Is Still €98,000—But That’s a Bargain in Motorsport Land

By any normal-person metric, motorsport is a money pit. But in BMW M Motorsport’s universe, the new M2 Racing is practically a coupon. Based on the current G87-generation M2, it’s the Bavarians’ latest attempt to make customer racing just affordable enough that ambitious amateurs don’t have to sell both kidneys to go wheel-to-wheel.

This car replaces the old F87-based M2 CS Racing, and the philosophy is simple: less drama, less expense, same badge. That’s why the snarling 3.0-liter S58 straight-six from the road car is gone. In its place sits BMW’s familiar B48 2.0-liter turbo four, producing about 308 horsepower and 400 Nm of torque—numbers that sound modest until you remember that most entry-level race series cap power anyway. You’re paying to learn racecraft, not to set Nürburgring lap records.

At €98,000, the M2 Racing becomes the cheapest new BMW race car you can buy. In motorsport terms, that’s pocket change; in real life, that’s still “nice apartment in Sarajevo” money. But it’s a crucial first rung on BMW’s racing ladder. From here, drivers can graduate to the €219,000 M4 GT4 EVO, or if they’re feeling especially flush, the €578,000 M4 GT3 EVO. The ultimate M Hybrid V8? That one stays behind BMW’s velvet rope, factory drivers only—at least for now.

To make the M2 Racing more than just a track-day toy, BMW has launched the M2 Cup Iberia, a one-make championship folded into Spain and Portugal’s Supercars Endurance series. Ten races over five weekends, a €25,000 prize pool, and a grid full of identical cars means talent—not budget—does most of the talking. For a young or amateur driver, it’s as close to a level playing field as modern racing gets.

Of course, buying the car is only the opening move. BMW is refreshingly transparent about running costs, and the numbers are surprisingly sane by racing standards. The drivetrain—engine, gearbox, propshaft, differential, and driveshafts—costs about €1.50 per kilometer to run. Suspension and steering add another €2 per kilometer. That’s not small change, but it’s nowhere near the financial bloodbath of GT3 racing.

BMW also tells you exactly when things will break—or at least when they’re supposed to be replaced. The engine, gearbox, propshaft, and rear differential are good for 30,000 km. Front suspension arms last 20,000 km, driveshafts and rear arms 15,000 km, and dampers about 10,000 km. This isn’t guesswork; it’s motorsport on a service schedule.

Like any BMW, the €98,000 sticker is just the start. Want a rear wing? Air jacks? Data logging? Endless brake pads? A passenger seat for instructor laps? Open your wallet. The options list is long, and BMW knows exactly how to make a “cheap” race car quietly get more expensive.

Still, the genius of the M2 Racing is that it doesn’t pretend to be something it isn’t. The four-cylinder B48 is cheaper, lighter, and easier on consumables than the six-cylinder S58 would ever be in this environment. And since series regulations would just choke the bigger engine anyway, you’d be burning money for noise and bragging rights.

For someone with real racing ambitions, the M2 Racing is a gateway drug. Learn the craft here, prove you’re quick, and then move up to the M4 GT4. BMW has built a ladder that starts lower than ever before—and for once, it looks like you don’t have to fall into financial ruin just to climb the first rung.

Source: BMW