Model tested: BMW M4 GTS
Predicted market value: €250,000-€300,000
Engine: 3.0-litre twin-turbocharged six-cylinder petrol
Transmission: seven-speed M DCT automatic, rear-wheel drive
Body style: two-door coupe
CO2 emissions: 199g/km (Band F, €1,200 per annum)
Combined economy: 33mpg (8.5 litres/100km)
Top speed: 305km/h (limited)
0-100km/h: 3.8 seconds
Power: 500hp at 6,250rpm
Torque: 600Nm at 4,000- to 6,250rpm
Boot space: 445 litres
It feels strange to be talking about a car as a classic when its most closely-related models are still on sale. But, even though the BMW M4 GTS was built and delivered in 2016, that's what we have to brand it: a classic. You can't buy one any longer; at least not direct from BMW. You probably couldn't even when it was new, because - once it was revealed as a concept at the Pebble Beach Concours d'Elegance in 2015, and then later that year confirmed for a 2016 production run of just 700 units worldwide - it sold out almost immediately.
But, with the superb (and far cheaper) M4 Competition Package still available in your local BMW dealer, and the recent addition of the M4 CS to the ranks of magnificent M cars, was the GTS just a collectible rarity with no real substance, or is it the coalescence of everything that makes BMW's M division such a revered brand in the automotive world?
In many respects, the M4 GTS makes no sense whatsoever. It was typically more than double the price of a regular M4 Coupe. Not just €10,000 or €20,000 more expensive; double the price. And then some. It follows much the same formula as its immediate forebear, the M3 GTS of 2010. That means big wings and splitters on the outside, plenty of Alcantara and carbon fibre inside, no back seats, deeply sculpted racing buckets up front and a bit more power from the reworked the 3.0-litre biturbo straight-six of the regular M4.
As we were still unsure whether the M4 GTS was a definite hit or an overpriced miss, we felt the matter needed more investigation. And one good way of finding out would be to spend a lot of time in its company. Luckily, the chance to do so presented itself when BMW invited us to drive the latest addition to the M4 line-up, the 460hp CS, in Germany over the weekend of the Nürburgring 24 Hours endurance race. But rather than flying, BMW wanted us to drive there and back in an M car from the past. And on the list of possible transport was this ultimate incarnation of the M4.
Thus we found ourselves as temporary custodians of BMW UK's Alpine White M4 GTS, In the space of four days, we're expected to scoot from the English Midlands, across the Channel, head for the 'Ring, watch some of the breath-taking race, drive the M4 CS, see the M8 being revealed, and then come home again. All in the 500hp M4.
Yes, we know, jammy gits and all that. Believe us, days like this are a rarity, not the norm. So, without further ado, we'll get on with things. First up, we have to say the M4 GTS makes a spectacular impression. All its aerodynamic detailing works magnificently on the coupe's bodywork, while the white paint suits it a lot better than the matte-effect Individual Frozen Grey the company used for the launch cars. The lighter shade seems to tone down the Acid Orange exterior highlights on the wheels and front splitter down to acceptable levels.
As this car has the optional Clubsport Package, the interior is dominated by an Acid Orange roll cage in the rear, while it also has the mounting points for six-point harnesses (our M4's Schroth belts weren't fitted; we just used the standard seatbelts) and a fire extinguisher installed in one of the rear foot wells. OK, the dashboard design is the same as any 4 Series, but with the GTS-branded Alcantara, exquisite bucket seats, stripped-back door cards and tubing in the back, it's an interior that screams 'EXCITING!' at you from the minute you swing open the lightweight door. Inside and out, the GTS certainly feels a cut above its stablemates.
Unlike other M4s, and this includes the latest CS, there are no adjustable dampers here. The GTS has three different driving modes, culminating in Sport and Sport+, but they only adjust the throttle, steering and exhaust, not the way the car rides bumps. As it's supposed to be the most track-capable M4 of the lot, the resulting ride is firm, with a capital 'Flipping'. In the initial 8-10km of setting off on our mammoth journey, we're beginning to wonder if we've made a colossal mistake, as the BMW is proving pretty frenetic in terms of its damping on rougher roads. Also, the clip for the seatbelt is already painfully digging into our thigh, which isn't great.
Nevertheless, once the GTS hits some bigger, smoother A-roads and starts making for the south-east of the UK, it starts working its magic. The damping settles into a far more comfortable gait once you're up to 100-110km/h, and the steering is simply epic; possibly BMW's best current set-up, it's brimming with feel and has wonderful weighting throughout all of its settings. The M DCT twin-clutch gearbox is another item that works perfectly well no matter what mode it's in, but the highlight so far is the noise.
Shorn of the daft artificial augmentation found in the standard M4 and boasting a set of the naughtiest titanium pipes going, it's no exaggeration to say the M4 GTS sounds as much like a GT4-spec race car as it's possible to get on the road. Even in its most muted settings, there's a much harder edge to the GTS's, voice. But when you click the exhaust button on the console, or go the whole hog and set the car to Sport+, it makes an incredible din - including probably the longest series of burbles, parps and 'braaaps' on the overrun we've ever heard. It's an intoxicating tune the BMW plays, and we'd be a lot happier if more turbocharged cars sounded as good as this.
Holding a steady 110km/h cruise for the 320km drive down south sees the M4 GTS arrive at our overnight stop on the Kent coast, only a few kilometres from the Chunnel, a lot sooner than we were expecting. And with a lot more attention from other road users than we'd bargained for, too. It might 'only' be a BMW and 'only' an M4, but it's clear that the GTS's big wing and aggressive front splitter - plus all that orange - help to mark it out as something special. And, happily, all the attention is hugely positive. People are very eager to indicate that they love the look of the GTS, which is a heart-warming response from the general motoring public.
The next day dawns bright and warm, and as we roll into the Folkestone terminal of the tunnel, we meet up with some of the other cars joining us on this trip. It's a sea of M3s and M4s, essentially, and after some convivial chatter with the other journalists and BMW PR team on the journey, it's time to filter onto the Chunnel. Soon, the front two carriages of the train are filled with the din of snarling straight-sixes.
All the cars, using the same software as each other, have the Nürburgring plugged into their navigation, but once we disgorge into France, it's not long before we split from the main pack. Running fourth behind M3 and M4 Competition Packs and a support X5, we begin heading east past Dunkirk, but when the leading trio peel off to go south towards Lille in an effort to avoid Brussels, the GTS insists we keep heading straight on. We decide to go our separate ways - if we're at the track for 2pm, everything will be dandy.
Further along the route, we head south-east towards the Belgian capital, and it's the first time we stop to fill up. At this point, the GTS is doing about 28mpg (10 litres/100km), which is more than respectable for a 500hp land missile that's limited to - limited, mind - 305km/h. Windows down and cruising along, the M4 GTS is a wonderful place to be, and manages to turn these motorway miles through the land of Tintin into a delight, rather than a chore.
Despite this, plus a remarkably easy run around the edge of Brussels and through Holland, there's something of a release when the Dutch road signs give way to German. We cross the border just north of Aachen - home of BMW tuning house AC Schnitzer, incidentally - and now we're onto derestricted Autobahn.
We've resisted the urge to unleash the GTS's almighty motor so far, save for a few exploratory tests of acceleration on the journey. But even then it has been obvious that there's unfettered savagery lurking under the bonnet. We click the car into Sport+ mode, bang down a few gears and bury the throttle.
Unleashed, the effects are stupefying. We can't remember any M3 or M4 that can haul to 250km/h with such reckless abandon as the GTS. It simply hammers past the traditional German speed limiter mark in a glorious yowl of titanium exhausts and six-cylinder roar, and keeps on remorselessly pummelling towards 300km/h. In fact, as we top out at 285km/h on one longer straight, it's not a lack of power that feels like it's holding the BMW back, but rather aerodynamic drag from the spoilers. Sadly, we have to back off at 285km/h because Autobahns are usually two lanes wide, rather than three, and we are bearing down on another vehicle that isn't moving at anything like the same speed. The triple ton regrettably eludes us.
The carbon ceramic brakes are strong, though, and once the traffic clears, on further runs along the autobahn, the GTS regularly passes 200km/h with the same ease as a hot hatch dispatches 100km/h. Its natural speed if you're not using cruise control seems to be about 225km/h, where it feels tremendously stable and far within its capabilities.
With such a turn of pace, all of an instant we're on back roads threading through the foothills of the Eifel Mountains, and road signs for the Nürburgring are appearing. We stop for another tankful of Super Unleaded near Blankenheim, and then pick up the fabled D258, which eventually runs right alongside the Nürburgring's main straight, Döttinger Höhe. Traffic is getting heavier towards the track, and we join the back of a slow-moving line of cars behind a truck, intermingled in which are a Ferrari 458 Speciale and FF that are clearly travelling together.
The bright-yellow 458 is pulling off some ludicrous overtakes in the face of oncoming traffic and around near-blind bends, in a desperate desire to be at the 'Ring before everyone else (although most fans decamp here a week before the event, not on the Friday afternoon). However, the D258 gets in a right old mess near Dorsel and Müsch, looping back on itself numerous times as it wiggles through the local topography. Without risking any other road users' lives or limbs, the M4 GTS decides instead to whip us off a back route to re-join the main road a few kilometres along the way.
It seems right to give Sport+ mode a test here through a number of tight hairpins, and the GTS excels. The back end is reasonably mobile but it feels much more predictable than any other M4 we've driven, allowing you to get on the power early and fire out of bends. It also scythes into corners with unfettered glee, the front axle being the inspiration for the wonderful M4 CS we mentioned earlier. The GTS has already proven it's ferocious in a straight line; now it's beginning the process of mesmerising you with its chassis prowess.
In short, the BMW obliterates the steep climb and quick descent on the other side, and before long we're back on the D258 with a clear road ahead. Minutes later, the familiar wail of a flat-plane crank V8 assaults our ears, and the 458 is bellowing up to our tail. The driver seems annoyed that we're in front, perhaps having clocked us in his mirrors earlier, but while he jockeys for position by straddling the white line behind us, for some reason he decides to hold station. Maybe he doesn't think he's got the M4 GTS covered...
Anyway, he and his FF companion eventually turn off towards Adenau, and all that's left for us to do is crawl past the inordinately busy Nürburgring pit area and pull in at the famous Hotel Tankstelle Döttinger Höhe where the fly-spattered M4 GTS re-joins the rest of our convoy. We pile into a plate of delicious currywurst and fries, under a baking German sky, and look forward to a weekend immersed in the crazy atmosphere of the Nürburgring 24 Hours race. But, despite all the attractions that are going on this weekend, it's the scintillating GTS that is most readily haunting our waking moments...
It's a corny platitude, but sampling the annual 24-hour race at the Nürburgring is something every car fan should do at least once in their life. There's really nothing else quite like it; Le Mans has a subtly different aura (albeit the trackside fans' drinking is at the same alarming level) and so does the Spa 24 Hours - both of those are more about the track action than anything. But, with the greatest respect to the competitors out there pounding the fearsome 25km lap, the racing here is almost a sideshow to the insane festival atmosphere of the forests surrounding the venue, courtesy of a mammoth intake of finest Teutonic beer.
The weekend progresses, and in the process it reveals an absolutely corking route from Kempenich to Bad Neuenahr-Ahrweiler, the location of our hotel for the Friday and Saturday nights. We first drive it at about 9.30pm on the Friday night in the GTS. Treated as more of a sighting lap that isn't driven on the ragged edge, we find the road clambers up and down hills, plunges through an almost pitch-black forest section, and involves the full gamut of corners, from fast sweepers to tight, intricate hairpins.
Arriving at the hotel 20 exhilarating minutes later, we're already rapturous about the M4 GTS, but on the Saturday we switch cars with another journalist and drive an M6 to and from the circuit throughout the course of the day. The big coupe puts on an admirable show but, even in its sharpest settings, it feels like driving a performance car in boxing gloves compared to the GTS. We're just itching to get back into it to give the route to the hotel the thorough going-over it deserves.
This happens on the Sunday morning. With traffic light - everyone who's interested has now been at the 'Ring for many hours, if not days, by this point - and the weather conditions perfect, the M4 GTS turns in a flawless performance. It shrieks and snorts and pops and burbles and bangs from corner to corner in an unending rush of mammoth six-cylinder power, and then dissects each and every curve with such precision that we can't help but sit there laughing out loud. By the time we hit the D412, adrenaline is flooding our body and we're in absolutely no doubt at all: that drive will live long in the memory banks.
So thrilling is the morning 'commute' that being at the 24-hour race feels like something of an anti-climax. But, undeniably, it has been a truly special event. During the weekend, we take in as much of the racing as we can during the 24 hours, pausing only to have a drive in the M4 CS - it's primarily what we're here for, after all - and see the M8 revealed. Yet it's standing among the inebriated but cheerful crowds at Metzgesfeld, Brünnchen and Pflantzgarten, the mighty GT3 cars growling past, lights ablaze, in the small hours of the night, that imprints itself into your brain for eternity. It's an enchanting place.
Eventually, though, time is called on our stay at the Nürburgring, with a long journey home beckoning on the Sunday afternoon. With a BMW M6 GT3 bagging second in the gruelling race, it's a fitting end to a weekend that has been dominated by machines from the Munich marque. And now it's time to clamber back into the bucket seat of the best of them and head for home.
Plugging our eventual UK destination into the M4 GTS's satnav reveals a journey that's around 850km in distance and predicted to take nine hours. We swing the M4 out of the underground car park near the 'Ring's information centre and head west into the countryside. We presume, wrongly, that the BMW is going to favour the same route home that it did coming out, but it doesn't.
As if it has one final gift up its sleeve, the GTS's navigation - set to Dynamic - instead picks out a route that deviates south off the D258 just a few kilometres away from the 'Ring, taking us for nearly 40km through some deserted, captivating countryside on the sort of roads that were surely designed for cars like the GTS - undulating, with a heady mix of tight corners and open sweepers, gifted with clear sightlines and light traffic. Over every crest, another wondrous view of the rolling landscape unfurls in front of you, the road snaking away into the middle distance, beckoning you on to cross the next ridge and unwrap another gift of a vista.
It's as simple as pressing M2 on the steering wheel, to put the car in its maximum attack settings, and then relaxing the traction control to MDM mode to unlock driving nirvana. The temperature is about 25 degrees Centigrade and thus grip levels are simply enormous, so wild tail-out antics would be near-impossible and foolish to try and elicit from the Beemer here. Instead, we merely lean on its prodigious talents and confirm that rear axle is beautifully mobile and fluid, without ever becoming unruly.
And, for those few precious tens of kilometres, what unfolds is the drive to end all drives, eclipsing even the stellar mission of earlier in the day. The M4 GTS is absolutely sublime. It savages the quiet German back roads of the Eifel region, slicing along them in a divine display of dynamic excellence. The steering, the throttle response, the chassis balance, the brakes, the noise, the rapid-fire gearbox - it all comes together. It all comes together so well that we'll happily go on the record as saying this: expensive it was when new, and largely irrelevant to most car owners it might still be, but the M4 GTS is the best mid-sized BMW M car we've ever driven. That includes the 1M Coupe, M2, E46 M3 CSL and the E30 M3 Sport Evo. It trounces them all.
Finally, after this joyously old-school sunny Sunday cross-country thrash, the BMW eventually links up with the autobahn again. There are no final attempts at beating 285km/h; this 'Bahn doesn't seem to be derestricted and is littered with roadworks. And before too long, we are back in Belgium.
We've still got hours of driving left in the M4's company, but as we plough on past signs for the historic Spa-Francorchamps circuit, the melancholic introspection begins somewhere just shy of Stella Artois' hometown of Leuven. As the GTS settles into a loping 130km/h stride across the middle of Belgium, a quick scroll out of the BMW's satnav shows the route from here to the coast is made up of nothing but motorways. And, once we're in UK shores, it's essentially the same story back to our original starting point, too.
So, with many miles of mindless motoring ahead, it leaves plenty of time to seriously question the credentials of the M4 GTS. There's no doubt it has made an indelible impression upon us; this is comfortably the greatest M4 of all from a sheer driving pleasure perspective, and there's a thought brewing which says nothing that has ever issued forth from Munich is dynamically better.
But the GTS is now one of those collectible cars that are all but unattainable to mere mortals like us. Even if you could get your hands on one of the '700' - in inverted commas because it is reckoned BMW didn't get the orders to fulfil the proposed total build numbers - examples of the GTS, they're appreciating classics already, so a current price tag of €250,000 to €300,000 is not out of the question. That latter figure, by the way, is about three times the price of a basic M4 Coupe with a manual gearbox.
Three times as good as an M4? Really? Yes. It's entirely feasible. The GTS is everything we hoped it would be, and a bit more besides. That's a hell of a feat for any car to pull off. It's a blinding slice of motoring excellence, and even the shortest drive in it should prove rewarding and alluring in equal measure.
Attempting to swallow our disappointment that every metre travelled is less time we can spend with this mind-blowingly good car, we try and focus on the long-distance task in hand. Yet the journey back is uneventful. Especially the motorway that leads north-west away from Brussels towards the North Sea. Honestly, this ought to be called the Motorway of Minimal Corners. In a 100km stretch, it barely deviates from its heading, throwing in the odd 30-degree kink about every 6km, just to keep you from drifting off. It's doubly frustrating because this motorway is in every bit as good condition as a German thoroughfare, is very lightly trafficked and wider in terms of lanes than an Autobahn. If it were similarly derestricted, you could make proper mincemeat of the schlep back to Calais.
But it isn't, and we can't. We're in a bright white BMW with big spoilers and a raucous exhaust, so the Belgian police would no doubt fling us in jail as soon as look at us if we ever dared to think of exceeding 120km/h; this, even though battered old Peugeot Partners are passing us at a considerable rate of knots. Instead, we stick to a steady cruise and watch the kilometres slowly click away. What with the stifling heat outside (we've still got the windows down, it's most pleasant at speed) and the monotony of straight after straight disappearing off into the middle distance, it's a battle just to stay awake. This is no reflection on the M4 GTS, more a critique of the inherent dullness of Belgium.
Only three things of note happen between Brussels and Calais that prevent us slipping into an irreversible coma. The first two incidents involve personal contact with suicidal bugs, but the other point of interest is the need to refill the GTS's boot-mounted water tank, which is part of the engine's water injection system. It needs topping up with deionised, distilled liquid during a stop for Super Unleaded off the motorway, just before it veers due west for Calais.
The rules are that the five-litre reservoir needs filling after every tank of petrol if you've been on track, or every fifth tank of fuel for general fast road use. We feel the GTS has been a little bit betwixt and between these states of driving for the past few days, so opt to put some water in with the fourth tank of petrol. And we're right to do so - the thirsty GTS swallows slightly more than four of the special bottles of water that BMW provided us with before the trip, meaning it was getting close to running dry. Apparently, there are fail safes for the car if this should ever happen, so it's not like we were on the verge of a major H2O drama.
Anyway, this aside, it's proof that even the most exciting machines cannot eradicate the drudgery of a truly boring route. It's therefore something of a blessed relief to cross the border into France and see that the Channel Tunnel is only a few kilometres away for our subterranean journey back to the UK.
And, once onto the M20 and heading back for the English Midlands, we're once again acutely aware of the love the GTS is receiving from fellow road-users. Accordingly, the final 200 kilometres pass by in an ambivalent mix of sweet contentment at having had the pleasure of the BMW's company for a long weekend, tinged with heavy-heartedness because these are the last vestiges of distance we will cover in the M4 GTS, and it's almost a nailed-on certainty we'll never get to drive one again.
That, we can tell you, is a tragedy. It's expensive. It's stupidly rare. It's severely compromised compared to any other M4 you can buy. It has looks that not everyone will love. But here, in car form, is everything BMW's M division has ever learned about dynamic ability and driver involvement, distilled into one electrifying package. The BMW M4 GTS is sublime. It is invigorating. It can engage, and delight, and challenge, and thrill like nothing else even remotely comparable. It is extraordinarily close to driving perfection. It's a bona fide, automotive classic indeed. And we miss it terribly, every single day; therefore, hail to the undisputed king of BMW's M cars.