Still spotless after 148,000 miles

There were some minor complications, though. Ray put his name on the list for a new tii, but he didn’t want one in Golf Yellow or Inka Orange and so had to wait a while.

“I put in the order in April of ’73,” he says, “and the dealer called me in July saying he had a car from the second load that came in, but only one without a sunroof, and it was maroon.”

Take it or leave it, the guy from 4J told him. There’s a waiting list for rides like this.

To compensate for the missing sunroof (we’re in Southern California, remember) the dealer offered his young customer dealer-installed air conditioning. He also offered a pair of Carello driving lights.

“They wanted to drill holes in my bumper,” Ray says, still a bit outraged over the intended violation. “Instead, I had special brackets made.”

This was Ray’s car, and nobody was going to put a hole in it.

He wasn’t crazy about the color, but Ray Sterbens drove away in a brand-new Bimmer that day. 148,000 miles later, he’s never regretted that decision.

“I’ve put in a new starter, one alternator, and I needed a set of Bilsteins,” he recounts. “Originally, the car was on 165/80-13 Michelin XAS tires, and my spare is still the original Michelin. Later, I put on same-size Phoenix Stahlflex, but I switched to 205/60x13 Sumitomo HTR200s. They seem to run nicer on the car.”

Not much else was needed, and no aftermarket parts besides those Carellos ever altered the looks of his tii. Where a lot of ’02s have had their Kugelfischer injection replaced by Weber carbs, this car remains original.

Ray says he’s always taken exceptional care of his cars, and looking at the all-original Bimmer I don’t doubt it. The exterior shines like it’s straight from a high-end paint shop, and the interior is so spotless I wonder when—and how—he put on all those miles.

Even the roof lining is still soft and smooth, and there’s not one bit of discoloration in the creamy white material. The door trim is exceptional, and the seat upholstery is without the tiniest scratch. That can only mean that neither of Ray’s spry little Dachshunds were ever allowed to ride in the vehicle, or that they only did so in slippers. The gearshift knob looks like it has never been touched by human hands, and so does the handbrake. Even the OEM clock only runs about six minutes late.

“All original!” he beams.

How do you keep a car spotless for all those years? I ask, admiring the truly black dashboard and the scratch-free glass of the instrument panel.

At that point, Ray Sterbens looks at me like he wants me out of his car…and pronto.