1983 AMG Mercedes-Benz 500SEL Blows Off the ‘Bahn Doors

From the April 1983 issue of Car and Driver.

We refer to this mighty machine as the Atomic Blueberry. This seems entirely appropriate for a car of its capacity and coloring that will easily attain 139 mph. Its color is officially referred to by Mercedes-Benz as Lapis Blue, a deep, metallic shade that alters with the light, varying mystically from an almost bright blue to navy blue to royal purple. The bumpers and the lower body are paint­ed to match, and the trim is all black, laced around the gleaming body like the dark markings of a perfectly ripened blueberry.

This Atomic Blueberry, however, is in no danger of being gobbled up. It is un­godly fast, more than a match for all but one or two of the most accomplished sports cars volume-sold in this country, and it maintains this superiority with all due composure. It is a Mercedes, so it has had a thorough upbringing in the social graces. It is, however, an AMG-­modified Mercedes, and capable of ex­ceptionally highhanded behavior. AMG is Germany’s preeminent Mercedes tun­ing firm, owned and operated by Hans­ Werner Aufrecht in the town of Affal­terbach, near Stuttgart, whence the almighty 5.0-liter motorcars emanate.

As they come from Mercedes, the 500SELs, SECs, and SLs are already among the fastest big cars in the world, scions of dedication to the ideals of solidity, utility, and, particularly as em­bodied in the 5.0-liter flagships, perfor­mance. Unfortunately, their perfor­mance has remained the province of other markets, never reaching the States because of our tight emissions require­ments and Mercedes’s aversion to add­ing a gas-guzzler surcharge. Thus a mild 3.8-liter powerplant is the only fac­tory-offered V-8 here. Several U.S. emissions-and-safety-certification firms rectify this by bringing in 500-series cars and affixing the necessary hard­ware, thus enabling America’s well-­heeled to run neck and neck with their European counterparts.

This does not make Mercedes-Benz particularly happy, since it is ever vigi­lant of its good name and thus predict­ably concerned with the modifications to its cars (though the company has enough pride in its products to provide a limited service-and-parts channel here for its big-engined models). Mercedes, along with Ferrari and BMW, philo­sophically supports pending congressio­nal legislation endorsed by Volkswagen that would effectively put an end to pipsqueak competitors by requiring them to meet exactly the same 50,000-mile certification standards set for ma­jor importers.

One of the pipsqueak competitors is Classic Motors, a specialty import center run by Richard Buxbaum, who has re­cently entered into an agreement with O’Gara Coach Company that calls for O’Gara to handle business west of the Rockies. In addition to handling trick, Euro-version BMWs, Ferraris, Porsches, and the like, Classic and O’Gara are AMG’s exclusive U.S. distributors. They can provide fully certified but otherwise stock Mercedes, or they can boost per­formance from stirring to sensational. In support of the attendant expense, we offer up the Atomic Blueberry’s per­formance statistics: 0 to 60 mph in 7.4 seconds, the quarter-mile in 15.5 sec­onds at 93 mph, 0 to 100 mph in 18.3 seconds, and 70-to-0-mph braking in 185 feet. (The stellar braking perfor­mance is due to the vice-free ABS anti­lock four-wheel discs, not available here from the factory.) And above it all looms that monumental 139-mph top end, effortlessly provided by the excep­tional aerodynamic detailing, despite the big Merc’s hefty frontal area, mas­sive passenger compartment, and 3772-pound burden.

Alas, a confession: this Atomic Blue­berry is not yet a certified car, and its performance might slip a little with the requisite hardware aboard. However, in its defense, it has already served 50,000 miles of duty as an AMG engineering mule (including several hundred laps at Hockenheim during the process of gain­ing Germany’s TUV type-approval for the new five-spoke, eight-by-sixteen-­inch AMG wheels) and as a press car, its only real concession to ill-treatment be­ing a touch of looseness in the steering. AMG has a selection of smaller steering wheels for customers at odds with Mercedes’s colossal wheel, but some of us prefer the big one for the ballistic, high-speed accuracy it lends (this being one of those inherently stable cars that feel even better as you go more quick­ly), and for the unimpeded view it pro­vides of M-B’s excellent instruments.

The fuel gauge indicates that, even at our brutally applied 13 mpg, the 25.4-gallon tank has an impressive 300-plus­-mile range (an add-on AMG trunk tank increases capacity to 40 gallons). Once and only once we have endured the un­endurable, a sustained 55-mph doze-off, which produced over 20 mpg, no small accomplishment for a 139-mph limousine capable of carrying five nota­bly comfortable and relaxed occupants in quiet luxury amid velour upholstery, the restrained banding of wood veneer, and legroom adequate even for stilt walkers in full parade regalia. Moreover, the crudest gas we could dump down the filler was fine, though unleaded will be necessary once the catalysts go on.

None of this tells you how sensation­ally exciting this car is to drive. It is un­commonly deceptive. Only when you toe into the throttle do you have an in­kling of what lies hidden within the sin­gle-overhead-cam V-8 and its AMG heads, valves, cams, and assorted detailing. No rocky idle gnashes back through the superb four-speed automatic drive­train. Instead, the monstrous output is entirely in concert with a most accom­plished chassis, thanks to AMG’s special Bilstein shocks and shorter, somewhat stiffer springs, which detract little from ride quality, even on the wide-set 225/50VR-16 Pirelli P7s. The monster is deceptively poised and agile, suggest­ing that a twist of the wrist is all that’s necessary for the accomplishment of any task. You will find that the mirrored world recedes with zoom-lens speed. Two unfortunates in Z28 and 924 thought they were racing across Ohio until the Atomic Blueberry rocketed silently past with a 30-mph cushion and disappeared.

Stout stuff, this stuff of the real thing. We can only hope that pending legisla­tion to eliminate the importation of such machinery fails. It passage would be doubly sad, because not only would it eliminate a source of real automotive excitement, it would also eliminate pressure on the large importers to bet­ter their current offerings. Only free competition leads to the quickest possi­ble progress. For that reason alone, never mind the adrenaline adjunct that goes hand in hand, we all owe thanks to companies like Classic Motors and to the Atomic Blueberries of our world.

Source: Reviews - aranddriver.com