777 | Date: Saturday, 30 Oct 2010, 14.06 | Message # 1 |
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User ID: 777
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| How do you say “animal” in German? That beastly description came to mind during my weeklong test of the Mercedes-Benz SLS AMG, a snarling, snapping, 563-horsepower homage to Benz’s classic 300 SL gullwing of the '50s. Judged strictly on performance, the SLS is quite simply the best -- and certainly the purest -- Mercedes sports car in history. Yes, better than the departing Mercedes SLR McLaren, though the SLS’s controversial styling can’t match the drama of that supercar. And by the cock-eyed standards of 6-figure sports cars, the SLS AMG is fairly priced at $186,000 to start. That’s almost $300,000 less than the SLR McLaren, though the SLS is roughly as fast, cracking the zero-to-60 mph mark in 3.8 seconds and churning to a 196 mph top speed. Certainly, there’s been no scrimping on technology: You get a hand-built, 6.2-liter V8 engine with a 7-speed dual-clutch automatic transmission. Weight-savers such as an aluminum space frame, carbon-fiber torque tube, magnesium-backed seats and optional ceramic composite brakes keep the SLS under 3,600 pounds -- about 300 hundred less than the McLaren and a remarkable 650 less than the posh-but-porky Mercedes SL roadster. Who knows, in this economy, the SLS might actually get some rich people to open their wallets. So what about that design? Well, if you never had to walk around the back, you might think the SLS is a classically beautiful sports car. I could stare longingly all day at that insanely stretched hood -- at nearly 6 feet long, it’s bigger than some people’s backyard decks -- and skyscraping doors. But the view from the rear is the Benz’s least-appealing angle, from which the Mercedes looks a bit flat and uninspired. A friend said the back end reminded him of an Acura (ouch). But the average Joe or Jane on the street had no problem falling in love with the Mercedes. Whenever and wherever I popped those doors, whether out in horse country in Hudson Valley or in the East Village of Manhattan, a crowd magically appeared to ooh and ahh over the Benz, their phone cameras snapping away. And a surprising number of people spotted those gullwings and were familiar with the historical connection to the SL of the 1950s. Now, I always disliked driving the McLaren, with its suffocating interior and downright spooky lack of steering and braking feel. The car, perhaps more than any supercar I've ever driven, always felt like death waiting to happen. No such problem with the SLS: While the Mercedes can’t match the sensitive steering of a Porsche or Ferrari -- then again, what can? -- the SLS is comfortable for two passengers, not to mention wildly capable and fully confidence-inspiring. It’s almost too easy to drive fast, as you end up treating public roads like your private, triple-digit-speed playground. And based on the Mercedes’ massive grip, tremendous brakes and jet-fighter acceleration, I have no doubt that the Benz would whip a Porsche 911 S around any racetrack -- you’d really need to saddle up the 911 Turbo to make this a fair fight. The engine explodes like an M-80 when you crush the throttle, then burbles and backfires like a German-born Viper when you downshift or drop off the gas --- but with a vastly more pleasing, high-tech sound than the truckish blat of the Viper’s V10. That brutal-yet-beautiful noise seems nearly worth the price of admission, a Wagnerian crescendo that matches anything from Ferrari, Aston Martin, you name it. The biggest negative is that the A-pillars (the front roof pillars) are as thick as those on a full-size pickup truck, which blocks a driver’s vision, especially when you’re turning left. But those beefy pillars are the price you pay -- along with awkward entry and exit, and an occasional head bump -- for those uber-stylish gullwing doors. Oh, and for the record, “animal” in German is “Das Tier.” From now on, that’s my nickname for this purebred pit bull from Mercedes-Benz.
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