Don't forget your dip stick!

It’s been awhile since I’ve owned a car that I actually have to check the oil levels on periodically. Turbocharged engines - like the one in my Golf GTI - can develop an oil consumption habit. That’s just the nature of forcing in more than base atmospheric pressure into the combustion chamber. So it’s important to keep track so that the engine isn’t starved of oil. You kind of don’t want to wait for the low oil level warning light to come on.

Unless of course you have a late model BMW. My previous BMW M2 has a turbocharged engine, but no physical dip stick. The method to measure the oil level is through the infotainment menu, which nobody does, and I certainly didn’t. How would you know your BMW turbo engine is in good health vis a vis motor oil? The low level light never comes on in between changes. And thankfully on my M2 it never did over the five years of ownership.

The Golf has a physical dipstick, so I’ve been checking oil levels at every refueling stop. But there’s a problem. In order to get an accurate reading, the ground has to be level. Unfortunately, there is no standard that mandates gas stations to be graded flat. Depending on which way the floor is slanted, the reading could falsely swing optimistic or pessimistic. If you’re a psychopath like me, then you’re seeking out gas stations with as level a spot as possible.

Normal people don’t do this. Heck, normal drivers hardly check the oil. The warning light is the call to action. Modern engines have absurdly long oil change intervals, too. The BMW M2 calls for every 10,000 miles, or one year. Actual mechanics would advise around 5,000 mile intervals for turbocharged engines. Perhaps it’s a testament to how excellent engine and oil technology have become that we don’t hear much about adverse oil consumption and subsequent failed motors (outside of Hyundai’s GDI).

Unfortunately, the EA888 engine in the GTI can be bit of an oil drinker, so I’m going to keep tabs on it like a hawk. I can remember doing the same with a Subaru WRX STI, carrying a quart jug of motor oil at the ready. That’s car life.

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Above water gardener.

Make turbocharged engines great again

As a car enthusiasts I am predisposed to prefer naturally-aspirated engines over the equivalent turbocharged units. Having owned cars with both atmospheric and force induction, I greatly prefer the crisp response and melodic sounds of natural-aspiration, and I want that linear power push all the way towards the rev-limiter. Turbocharged engines with their huge torque plateaus and agonizing lag isn’t nearly as rewarding.

There’s an obvious headwind against our love of engines unencumbered with turbos: the entire automotive industry is heading the opposite direction. Due to ever stringent emission standards, automakers are gravitating heavily towards turbocharging to achieve the best of both worlds: sheer power when needed, but small-engine fuel economy it isn’t. It seems most manufacturers these days have got a two-liter turbocharged four-cylinder serving duty in their respective portfolio, replacing venerable naturally-aspirated V6s. In turn, turbocharged six-cylinders are occupying spots previously held by lumbering V8s.

Not even the revered and beloved sports car segment, massively low-volume it may be, is immune to the encroachment of turbochargers. The latest range of the iconic Porsche 911 is entirely motivated by turbocharged engines, save for the exclusive GT3. Similarly over at Ferrari, there’s but one model left that’s naturally-aspirated (812 Superfast). The legendary BMW M3 have lost its traditional atmospheric song for one whole generation already.

Perhaps instead of the #savethemanual campaign, petrol-heads should instead focus on saving the NA motor.

I’m not strictly against turbocharging; I think their power-per-liter possibilities are tremendous, and the mountainous shove once turbos are properly lit is rivaled only by electric cars. The crux of my issue with turbo engines is the utter lack of aural sensation: the typical mill in modern cars is muffled and sounds like a vacuum cleaner. Sound is an integral ingredient to the driving experience, otherwise we’d all be driving Tesla cars.

It isn’t like turbocharged engines can’t be made to sound exciting; we all grew up with WRC and those monster turbo machines masquerading as rally cars. The whooshes and hisses, the pops and bangs, and the ethereal whine of the turbo as it builds pressure: where have all this gone? Why have auto manufacturers engineered out these innate aural qualities of turbocharging? It doesn’t have to sound so sterile and benign; let me hear that it’s indeed got a turbo hanging off the exhaust manifold!

A turbo 911 Carrera that sounds like a group stage rally car is a delicious prospect indeed, one I’d readily hand my money over to.

And to think some people just go bowling.