All Entries Tagged With: "Daimler-Benz"

By Gunnar Heinrich

Was it an SL, an S-Class, or both?

When recalling one of Stuttgart’s finest, I tend to remember the car in the context of the last category. It clearly is an SL, the very model designation tells us this.

However, it is more than what the regular roadster offered in that it accommodated four passengers in a 2 + 2 seating arrangement. Those who were stuck in the rear seats found very cramped quarters, but also privacy.

Unique to the 450SLC were metal privacy “curtains” (for lack of a better term) that covered the rear window such that it was possible for the passengers inside to look out, but outsiders could not look in. Rather clever, and in my opinion it constitutes a nice bit of styling.

The 450SLC was a pillarless two door of the 1970s. The body series designation was W107. The SLC range was produced from 1971-1981. In that decade some 33,375 450SLCs were produced, of which, 1,636 were made with a 5.0 liter V-8 engine replacing the 4.5 liter powerplant in the final three years of production.

The car was for all intents and purposes a stretched edition of an SL roadster. In this way, it could be considered the coupé stablemate of the W116 S-Class sedan. The 450SLC was 14.2 inches longer than the 450SL; sat on a wheelbase 14.1 inches longer; and was 2 inches taller than the roadster.

At 3,704 lbs, the Benz was a hefty car, though considerably lighter than its contemporary successor, the CL500 (4,085 lbs).

I remember as a kid riding in my aunt’s 450SLC, listening to Madonna and chewing Bazooka bubblegum. It was an elegant car – lovely navy blue on stately grey. I recall liking the cat-eared headrests, the oval air-conditioning vents, and the crenellated steering wheel.

That particular 450SLC was prone to trouble from the moment it left the showroom floor. Actually, the battery had died so the Benz dealer had to roll it off the floor. Despite this, it was an admirable car.

So, who today remembers the 450SLC?

I do. Fondly.

By Gunnar Heinrich

IN terms of performance, there are a few factors that stand in this Benz’s way.

First is mass. At more than 16 feet long, the 300SD is a big sedan to throw around.

Second is the lack of a self-leveling rear suspension as available on the 500SEL, or a fully adjustable air suspension as available on the 450SEL 6.9 (W116). Both suspensions increased road holding and lap times nicely in comparison to their ordinary gas-shocked kin.

Third, from 1980 – 1985, there was no excuse in having ABS as optional equipment on an S-Class Benz.

Fourth, the smaller and narrower the tyre, the better the ride may have been the case. But for a car this size 14” wheels do not cut it.

With that in mind, an S-Class really was not meant to be driven as a sports car, though, the engineers made it so that it could be driven fast if the necessity existed. After all, diesel or not, it came from the country that is home to the Autobahn.

My memories of the experiences I had in the late 1990s behind the wheel of two 300SDs from the early 1980s serve to tell me that these cars became tried and true workhorses as years and owners changed.

The stout inline-5 cylinder turbo-diesel engine seems to have an average lifespan of at least 300,000 miles. The gas mileage over two decades of use is still little short of astounding for car as heavy as the 300SD.

For the sake of simplicity, I shall remark on the Grey Benz, as it was the one of the two 300SDs that I spent most time driving. The car was in decent shape in terms of aesthetics, though, typical to 300SDs it seemed have more wear and tear than most other W126 models.

For example, wear that was typical of the model were the signs of de-lamination of rear windshield which left green smudges in the corners, the Zebrano wood trim on the console, dash, and front doors had warped and faded. The leather- in this case a deep blue- was in fine shape; no cracks or tears from use. The exterior paint had oxidized to that tough stage where it seems to no longer scratch, yet still retains a dull version of the original color. Rust was starting to appear beneath the headlamps, the inside door sills, and the rear wheel wells. The tail lamp above the dual exhaust tail pipes on the left side of the car was considerably darker than the tail lamp on the right side.

In my observation of 300SDs, I have found these problems to be quite common. Simply told, these cars are used hard.

Still, hints of luxury remain. As does the enduring and alluring quality of classic Mercedes-Benz craftsmanship.

The first moment of confirmation is the pull of the door handle.

A heavy and precise mechanical process seems to transpire – as though the vault door needed a split second to release the many steel cogs that all served to keep it latched tightly.

The door swings open in one fluid action to the first stop – mostly ajar – and then another to the final stop at fully ajar. Ingress and egress is simple thanks to the high seating position of the veritable chair.

Sit.

The early W126 models had the spring-loaded seats, similar in thought and execution to a spring-loaded mattress. With heavy use, many spring-loaded seats are deformed over time. Still, this chair has not lost its support and I feel on top of the seat, rather than in it as is the case with most contemporary cars. The feel is firm. Though the headrest is delightfully soft.

The wheel is large, much like a helm. It is reassuring in its size and proportion and its fixed position seems about right.

It is not leather, though.

For some reason 70 grand (2006 figure) was not enough to justify giving clients a leather trimmed steering wheel.

All the instrumentation is in full view. Those orange diodes are on display.

The speedometer reads to 80 mph. Ah, yes, those days of fuel shortages. That may happen yet again.

Twist the key. An almost fully mechanical process takes place and the diesel starts up. Its there, but no overly intrusive at idle.

Close the door. Like a vault.

Take the black leather shift knob in hand and position it down the signature notched gate to D. It can be a clumsy process for first timers, but it’s muscle memory for me.

By the way, no holding the brake pedal action was required to shift – ah the days of responsibility when it comes to one’s actions…

Go forward.

Looking out of what is a formidable windshield over a formidable hood, that famous star winks at me from a distance. The hood is smooth and has the most wonderful lines. There is something of a rounded plateau at the center which is demarcated in a wide V by two lines that extend diagonally from the sides of the grille to the A pillars; separating the elevated section from the relative flat of the remainder of the hood and the fender. It is all beautifully executed and one feels the presence of this great saloon.

Adjust the helm.

The recirculating ball steering is both removed and in tune at the same time. Unlike BMW steering which tells every little detail, the Benz gives a summary of events. The steering speed is fixed, not speed sensitive. It is a conservative balance towards the heavy. It never feels light, even at great speed, but is not cumbersome at standstill either. It is very well done.

The pedal is long in its travel, and in this diesel model, only flooring it seems to provoke any real reaction.

So let’s see how fast it can go.

Back at standstill. Foot goes to floor. The diesel groans loudly while the mass of car seems to only roll forward to 15 mph. A gear change occurs and we’re off! Past 20…30…40 mph and then it settles into a climb to 50. What an odd torque curve.

This car is ponderous.

When my right foot gets heavy, I definitely do not play to the 300SD’s strengths. Still, it is not the slowest Benz I have driven. That dubious honor goes to electric-car-slow 1990s C220. You might burry the pedal in the floor in the morning and arrive at 60 mph sometime next day. Or so it seemed.

Once on the highway and up to speed, the 300SD does what every S-Class does best. It just cruises. The car will go all day at 80 mph and the power plant is good for cruising at 120 mph though it may take a minute to get there.

Then come the twists.

Back roads can be daunting for any long wheelbased car, let alone a luxury tuned suspension. On The Test Track – a twisted road that simply demands horseplay – the Big Benz is thwarted by the curves. Tall lean induces the high walled grand-touring tyres to protest loudly and even give up by rolling briefly onto their sidewalls. Strangely, the rear seems to sit down in the turns – perhaps due to worn shocks, but I have seen old pictures of the 300SD in action that suggest otherwise. Nothing self-leveling shocks cannot help alleviate.

Still the 300SD behaves as though it were on rails. The steering is the strongest of any car I have driven in that one can hit serious potholes and the vehicle will maintain its course. It is a brilliant bit of suspension engineering that provides safe, secure handling.

The brakes are forceful and reel the car in from speed quickly. After heavy use they are fade free.

However, in the wet, even moderately heavy brake pedal pressure can promote lock up – which truly sucks – considering all the inertia this car has. With a car fitted with ABS what would seem safe, suddenly becomes hairy.

Gott segnen ABS.

Still, after a vigorous drive, a smooth cruise is in order. Bumps in the road are met, and the Bilstein shocks manage to soak up everything on the road, despite having what must be over a 100,000 miles.

Park the car. Sit. The outside world would seem remote were it not for the mechanics of a diesel. The 350SDL of the late 1980s was much quieter thanks to what Mercedes-Benz described as an “encapsulation system” of insulation that extended underneath the engine.

Turn off the ignition.

The motor is still running and then a second or two later it quivers to a halt. The car is over two decades old I remind myself. And a glance down at the odometer tells me that it is not far from passing its 310,000th mile. If that is not a testament to sound engineering and reliability, I don’t what is.

By Gunnar Heinrich

In the 1970s, the OPEC induced gas crisis led to a rush importation of German diesel cars in the United States. The fuel crunch inspired Mercedes-Benz to implement turbo-diesel models in their flagship S-Class saloons.

The 300SD was first produced in the W116 series (1972-1980).

The 70s S-Class was something of a low profile tank and at over 4,000 lbs the original 300SD was lethargic in its performance. The 1980s changed that by shaving the pounds off the less hefty and more aerodynamic W126 series (1979-1991). The new 300SD felt as solid as a tank, but at roughly 3,700 lbs weighted considerably less than one. Hence, acceleration was better, as was fuel range.

Looking back on the 300SD, I remember liking the car.

I have never experienced a new or even lightly used 300SD; which says something about the condition of those cars today (and my age). Most of the early W126 S-Class turbo-diesels continue to be used hard as veritable work horses and many have accrued over 300,000 miles. In these terms, it is difficult to consider most 300SDs today as luxury cars.

There is no question, however, that in the 1980s the 300SD was the gold standard.

The MSRP for a 1983 Mercedes-Benz 300SD was $38,500; or 73,542 in today’s dollars.

There was no finer diesel car on the road. As an S-Class sedan, the 300SD represented the penultimate in luxury automotive transportation.

By contemporary standards, a new 300SD was quiet at cruising speed, smooth in the dispatch of broken asphalt, comfortably spacious for the front passengers, and relatively so for the rear. Above all, the turbo-diesel sedan enjoyed that sterling accolade of most pre-2000 Benzes in that the car felt as secure as a “bank vault”.

This S-Class was not without its foibles though.

Anti-lock brakes (ABS) were not standard equipment. There was no option of having a self-leveling suspension system. These two assets would have been key in everyday performance terms as I will explain. 15” rather than 14” wheels would have benefited handling and braking as well.

There were no memory controls for the power front seats; the front headrests were manually adjustable, there were no rear headrests. Fixed in its position; the hub of the steering wheel was hard plastic, the rim trimmed in vinyl (“leatherette” in Benz lexicon); and most 300SDs were fitted with the often cold and ill-matched Zebrano wood trim.

On highway and what I affectionately refer to as The Test Track- a twisting hilly road that cuts through a bucolic forest reserve, free of population and traffic, full of undulations, sudden drops, and a quarter mile straightaway– I had the fine opportunity to drive on different occasions two 300SDs in the late 1990s.

I shall report on my experiences in The Drive.