Image Credit: Bavarian Econs Tech.
I've spent more than half of my life inhaling the exquisite bouquet of burnt hydrocarbons and listening to the sort of mechanical drama only a poorly maintained vintage engine can deliver. I can't help it - I love the smell of gasoline in the morning. To me, it smells like… victory. Now, of course, everyone is swapping out that glorious racket for the gentle, insistent hum of an electric motor.
Most of times it must feel like you're just trading in your favorite leather jacket for a beige, sustainably sourced cardigan. But then… You see something like this: a classic 1972 BMW 2002, the definitive "roundie" coupé, which has had its soul surgically removed and replaced with the beating, silent heart of a Tesla. The positively mad crew at Bavarian Econs Tech in Munich, Germany, has pulled off this Frankensteinian operation, and the result is so thoroughly, meticulously executed that my inner crank has been temporarily silenced. Which, believe me, is a rare and disturbing event.
Image Credit: Bavarian Econs Tech.
The 2002 is the car that effectively created the sport sedan segment. It was light, tossable, and full of character. It was also prone to a spot of rust and the kind of fiddly carburetors that make you want to weep into your tool kit. But this particular one, finished in a wonderfully bright, eye-searing shade of Golf Yellow, started life as a pristine specimen.
The chaps who built it claim it rolled into their workshop with just under 19,300 miles on the clock and was completely rust-free. Finding a fifty-dollar bill in a clean pair of trousers comes to mind... And what did they do with this immaculate piece of history? They tore out the engine and gave it an electron injection.
Image Credit: Bavarian Econs Tech.
Bavarian Econs Tech went properly premium, and they've dropped in the 33 kWh battery pack from a BMW i3, cleverly housed in a custom enclosure under the forward-hinged hood. And what's feeding that battery's juice to the rear wheels? A motor pilfered from a Tesla Model S - this is a Bimmer with a Tesla heart!
The total output, managed by a sophisticated 400-volt electrical system, is a thoroughly respectable 178 horsepower and 125 pound-feet of torque. That horsepower figure, although not much by today's electric standards, is actually a decent bump from the original car's best efforts, but the torque… it is that instant, silent, electric torque. It pulls like a freight train, but one that's had its whistle removed.
Image Credit: Bavarian Econs Tech.
The result of this German-American-German mashup is quite shocking. This little yellow brick, dubbed the 2002te, can hit 62 miles per hour from a standstill in 6.2 seconds - the original 2002 turbo was a blisteringly fast car of its era, and this EV conversion keeps pace easily. And at a svelte 2,400 pounds, the electric Beemer keeps its stats uncannily close to the 1972 Turbo original. It's still feather-light and should be an absolute hoot to throw around corners.
One of the great trade-offs, of course, is the lack of a transmission. No clutch pedal, no glorious heel-and-toe downshifts, just direct drive. It's motoring for people who find the act of changing gears to be entirely too much effort.
Image Credit: Bavarian Econs Tech.
Unfortunately, here comes the rub... The great existential dilemma of the EV conversion: the range. The advertised driving distance is 124 miles on a full charge. One hundred and twenty-four miles. That's enough to get you to your local Cars & Coffee meet and back, provided your local meet isn't in another state. Is that enough? For a daily driver, maybe not. For a sunny weekend toy that just happens to be electric, and one that has been used as a press vehicle at prestigious events like Monterey Car Week? Absolutely.
Of course, you're trading the delightful "thrum-thrum-thrum" of the old four-banger for the kind of silence usually reserved for a library or a tax audit. To combat the auditory void, the builders felt it necessary to fit a complete concert hall into the cabin. They've hidden a Bluetooth stereo system that powers eight Helix speakers and a subwoofer cleverly mounted under the driver's seat. Eight speakers! In a car the size of a roller skate!
Image Credit: Bavarian Econs Tech.
I suppose when you take away the engine's symphony, you have to replace it with something. The interior also boasts fixed-back bucket seats trimmed in black leather and corduroy, which look far better than the original vinyl torture devices, and there's a proper air conditioning system. Oh, the luxury… You can now roast your tires and enjoy a chilled interior.
The Germans, you must understand, do not half-bake anything. They build things with the same obsessive precision one uses when assembling a very expensive Swiss watch. This lovely yellow 2002te isn't some backyard hack job. It rides on a set of stunning 13-inch Alpina wheels shod in Michelin XDX-B tires. And to make sure it handles like the classic racer it's supposed to be, they installed KW Racing V3 Classic coilovers - modified just for this build - and swapped out the squishy rubber bushings for firm, purposeful Powerflex polyurethane ones.
Image Credit: Bavarian Econs Tech.
Surprisingly, the electric reincarnation keeps the standard E10-spec front disc and rear drum brakes, which is perfectly period-correct, but I'm pretty sure all that electric torque makes you approach stops with a prayer and a quick check of your life insurance policy.
One of the cleverest touches that absolutely won me over is how they've dealt with the instrumentation. Instead of just slapping a generic digital screen in the middle, they kept the classic VDO gauges. They're vintage, but they've been smartly repurposed.
Image Credit: Bavarian Econs Tech.
The tachometer, now delightfully useless, has been turned into a power meter. The combination gauge keeps track of battery charge and health. It's the ultimate act of automotive trickery: everything looks authentic, yet absolutely nothing is. The odometer, which now reads about 1,500 miles since the conversion, is a testament to the fresh start this old coupé has been given. It's a 1972 car that thinks it's a 2025 commuter.
I've always been one to preach about the tactile feedback, the noise, the drama of a classic car. That's the experience. But I have to admit, seeing a legendary car like the 2002 re-engineered with a high-voltage system that boasts rapid-charging capability is… compelling. It addresses the main issue of old cars - the ridiculous unreliability and constant maintenance. This car will start every morning and make you think you've accidentally bought a brand-new electric car dressed up in a groovy vintage suit. It's a brilliant piece of engineering from the founders, Edgar and Nicolas Navarro, who clearly have a passion for keeping these classic shapes relevant.
Image Credit: Bavarian Econs Tech.
The gentle skepticism is still there, naturally. It's difficult to look at a 2002 and not think of the fantastic sound of a twin-carb M10 engine winding out. But the automotive landscape is changing faster than my waistline. Conversions like the 2002te aren't trying to replace the original experience; they're offering a parallel one. They're making these iconic shapes usable, dependable, and, dare I say it, future-proof.
This car is a showpiece, and now it's up for grabs on the Bring a Trailer auction site. If you've got a pocket full of money and want to own a piece of automotive history that won't leak oil on your freshly paved driveway, this is it. It's an automotive riddle wrapped in a yellow enigma. Is it a classic car? Or is it an electric car? The answer, of course, is "Yes." And for that, Bavarian Econs Tech, I salute you with a pint of the coldest, finest Bavarian beer.
Image Credit: Bavarian Econs Tech.
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