BimmerLife

The Key to Happiness

I’ve owned my daily-driver 2003 E39 530i for eight years now. It only had one key when I bought it, and I never could get the remote in the key fob to work, even after replacing the battery and going through the programming procedure. Neither of those things really bothered me. After all, I don’t think I’ve ever had a working key fob in any of my cars.

A few years ago, the key fob fell apart and would no longer snap shut. Since I didn’t really care about changing the battery for a remote that I never got working, I super-glued the two halves together with the apparently non-functional (and battery-free) circuit board inside, which cost me nothing. It stayed that way until last week when my son Ethan came home after using the car. He presented to me the three pieces of the broken key fob (the fob shell and key blade, the fob cover, and the little circuit board that should’ve been inside). I couldn’t find any Super Glue in the house, so this time, I zip-tied it together. I didn’t really think this was anything important or urgent.

I went out that night to play music with some friends. When I returned to my car, I reached into my jacket pocket for the key. Unbeknownst to me, the zip tie had slid off the fob. When I pulled it out of my pocket, it fell apart, dropping the little circuit board onto the pavement. This still didn’t set off any alarm bells for me, as I thought the board was superfluous since it had no battery, and I’d never used the remote functions anyway. I put the board in my jacket pocket for safekeeping and got into the car.

It was only when I took the half of the fob with the key blade on it, inserted it in the ignition, and twisted it to try and start the car that I began to understand how fragile a situation I was in. Nothing happened—no crank, no start, nothing. Suddenly, it occurred to me that the little circuit board was more than just a non-functional remote for the door locks—it was also a still-active part of the car’s antitheft system.

We all have holes in our knowledge, and EWS was one of mine. It stands for “Elektronische Wegfahrsperre” (in English, “electronic immobilizer”). EWS is BMW’s antitheft system that uses communication between a key, the car’s ECU, and the EWS module to prevent the car from being started unless it has the correct key. A unique code is wirelessly transmitted from the key to the EWS module. At some level, I knew this, but I never realized that, in this context, “key” doesn’t mean the key blade—it means the fragile little electronics board that lives in the key fob, the piece that I’d just dropped onto the pavement. (For much more information about EWS, see this or this.)

I carefully placed the board between the two halves of the fob and held the pieces together while I turned the key, and the E39 mercifully roared to life. I then very carefully put the board back in my coat pocket, as it’s needed to start the car, but not for it to continue running. But the episode spooked me. I now understood that if the board got damaged, or if I lost the sole existing key with the board inside the fob, the car would be bricked, likely resulting in a tow and an expensive bill at a dealership, or at least a long wait to order a key from one.

When I got home, I researched what it would take to get a key. I rapidly hit on posts on BMW forums saying that thebmwminipartstore.com had the best price, with the $245 MSRP key selling for $185 for a key that’s cut and coded for your car. Still, that’s a lot of money to spend on a key, so I looked for alternatives. I saw all the $25 key fobs being sold on eBay and Amazon and the comments from folks saying that they could get it to open the doors but it still wouldn’t start the car. Many of them didn’t understand that programming the remote (the buttons on the key fob) and programming the key are two different things, and candidly, neither did I until I read up on it.

I found this key and fob on ADL Hardware’s website on sale for $56. It looked more legit than the eBay/Amazon ones, with the clear instructions “PLEASE NOTE: KEYS ARE SOLD UNPROGRAMMED AND WILL NEED TO BE PROGRAMMED BY A LOCKSMITH PROFESSIONAL OR LOCAL DEALERSHIP. The remote portion requires separate onboard programming. Must be programmed using AK90 tool.” There’s a locksmith shop a mile from me that has bailed me out several times, though not on anything this modern. I showed them ADL’s ad and asked if they could program their key for my 2003 E39. They said that, unfortunately, they didn’t have the equipment but gave me the names of two other Boston-area locksmiths who might be able to do it. I mentioned that The BMW Mini Parts Store sold a cut-and-programmed key for $185. “That’s a very good price,” the locksmith said. The idea of clicking and buying something I knew would work instead of running around town for something that might not suddenly became very appealing.

Image courtesy of registro33900, E46fanatics.com

I got home, briefly read up on what it takes to do an EWS delete, decided against it, and rationalized spending an amount on a single key that penny-watching me would balk at spending on a set of tires.

Okay, so The BMW Mini Parts Store it was. I found a coupon code (“ROUNDEL”) that got 10% off, basically negating the tax and shipping and bringing it in at $182. Their key-related FAQ was very clear, instructing you to email them a photograph of your up-to-date registration and license to prove you own the car. (I was reminded of last year at The Vintage when Jake Metz had his key-cutting booth set up, and droll wise-guy Scott Aaron walked up and said, “So, how does this work? Do I just tell you which cars I want keys to?”)

I went out to the E39, pulled the registration from the glovebox, put my license on it, photographed them both, and emailed it. About an hour later, I received a surprising email from The BMW Mini Parts Store. It said “Hello, the registration provided is expired. BMW/ MINI require all documents to be current. Once I receive a current registration or title, I will proceed with your order.” Wait, what? I looked at the registration, and sure enough, it had expired at the end of October. It turned out that I had renewed it but hadn’t yet put the updated registration in the car. D’oh! I found the renewed registration in the bill pile, photographed it, and sent it in.

So, the key is on order. In the meantime, I bought Super Glue, re-glued the key fob, alerted Ethan to the fragility of the situation, and asked him to be very careful with the key. And I checked the Pouch’o’sparekeys to make sure that the other two modern BMWs—the ’99 Z3 and the ’99 M Coupe—both have spares. They do.

Of all the things I might have dropped $180 on, I didn’t expect it to be this, but it felt surprisingly easy to justify to myself. After all, I’d somehow gotten out of spending it during the past eight years when any of the near-misses of misplaced keys or the fob breaking apart would’ve been more expensive and far less convenient. It’s not exactly Merry Christmas to me, but when there’s a known problem that, if it goes south, I’d feel like a total idiot for not fixing, that’s a hole I like to plug. At least this one involves essentially zero effort. I don’t even need to get greasy!

Rob Siegel

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All eight of Rob’s books are available here on Amazon. Signed personally-inscribed copies can be ordered directly from Rob here.

 

 

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