I love the DCT, and my "sporty" cars have always been manuals. But the M3 is far more than a "sporty" car. It is an all-purpose, all-conquering freakin' wonder machine. I actually was driving next to a gorgeous dark gray E39 M5 today, and I looked over at him, listening as he rowed through the gears, thinking "man, that car would kick ass with a DCT."
If I could have only one car ever after, it would be the E92 M3.
Fortunately, I have
two cars--and the other is a 1985 Porsche 911, with the antiquated, agricultural, positively menopausal Porsche 915 gearbox. A bitter, cranky mechanical contrivance that shifts like a long stick stuck in a bucket full of pea gravel. And, of course, I love it. Successfully driving a 915 well is the epitome of
orgasma di mechanica, an entree to a club to which few belong. It also takes me back to a time when, if you wanted Porsche's halo car, you had to learn how to operate real, analog machinery; no ABS, no power steering, and . . . what, you want an automatic? Buy a Dodge. You'll save enough to buy several pairs of pink panties.
Terry