Mercedes Sprinter Service and Repair Redwood City - Autoblog drives to the Arctic Circle - Bosch European Redwood City - 650-368-3000

 

 As I am about to nod off on my long leg flight from Minneapolis to Anchorage ahead of driving to the Arctic Circle, the friendly twenty-something Alaskan knitting furiously in the seat next to me pauses and says, "When you're driving up there, don't open your windows." In the dead of winter? I hadn't planned on cruising alfresco, but her warning to keep the glazing snugged against the weatherstripping is one I would take to heart. She continues: "If you leave 'em open, a fox is liable to jump right in. There are lots of rabid foxes up there, and they leap into your car and just Go. To. Town." And here I was, thinking that a curious bear or maybe an ill-placed moose in the road was going to be my biggest potential four-legged threat. In the wintery wilds of northern Alaska, even the cute little critters want to kill you.

Bedraggled after two flights and a long layover, I reach my hotel room nursing a toothache and a suddenly metastasizing cold. I manage to down half a reindeer burger from room service and a sleeping pill, and with a cute red fox taking the place of the killer rabbit in that scene from Monty Python and the Holy Grail stuck on mental replay, I hit the pillow, wondering what in the hell I've gotten myself into.

The next day starts early, and I meet my fellow adventurers-to-be at the morning briefing. We're assembled at the Anchorage Sheraton at the behest of Mercedes-Benz Canada, and our plan is to drive from Anchorage to the former mining camp of Coldfoot, which lies inside the Arctic Circle. In Sprinter commercial vans. At 1,264 miles, it's the last leg of a longer endurance run that started out in Edmonton. We'll stop for the night in Fairbanks, then run alongside the 800-mile-long Trans-Alaskan Pipeline before saying hello to the Arctic Circle. From there, we'll venture up to Coldfoot Camp, where we'll hopefully stand directly underneath the Northern Lights. Then we'll do the whole thing in reverse, ending up in this very hotel five days from now.

As fate would have it, my team, composed of Yours Truly and the film crew from our video series, The List, are just about the only Americans along for the schlep. Everyone else is from Canada – many of them from its upper reaches where they are, shall we say, more acclimatized to sustained subzero temperatures.

We have been warned of biting temperatures and urged to bring serious subzero attire.

It being the dead of winter, we have been warned of biting temperatures and urged to bring serious subzero attire. I'm the type of guy that winces a little at spending more than $50 on a shirt or jeans, yet consulting the foreboding forecasts has me eagerly shelling out over $500 for a weapons-grade parka, hat, gloves and base layer the week before my trip. It will come to be perhaps the best $500 I have ever spent. Years of being an itinerant car journalist have taught me how to pack a week's worth of clothing into a rollaboard bag, but on this trip, I pack more layers than an onion, necessitating a larger suitcase and a duffle just for my boots and jacket. Both are overstuffed until I fear for their zippers, yet even so, I have the nagging feeling I've forgotten something. A vial of rabies vaccine and a bouquet of syringes, perhaps.

We're as far south as we're going to get and it's already below freezing as our expedition packs its bags into ten 2500-series Sprinter vans in both cargo and passenger configurations with one of two wheelbases – 144 or 177 inches. With five people to pack into one vehicle (myself, List hosts Jessi Combs and Patrick McIntyre, director Graham Suorsa and cameraman extraordinaire Chris Otwell), we are mercifully given the keys to one of a pair of five-row long-wheelbase vans.

It is at this point that you might be reasonably asking, why on earth is Mercedes taking Sprinters – rear-wheel drive, largely unloaded commercial vehicles – to the Arctic Circle? Why not import a phalanx of Unimogs, or a fleet of Gelaendewagens... or at least a suite of four-wheel drive GL-Class SUVs? Apparently they like a challenge.

We'll be so far north that we'll be in Earth's own shadow, giving us about six or so hours of light.

More to the point, Mercedes is proud of the fact that it has tested the Sprinter's systems in Northern Sweden to -22 degrees Fahrenheit, and is keen to eviscerate any lingering questions about the van's durability and diesel performance in the coldest of climes. Only one potential problem with that – Ye Old Weather Channel says we're in for temperatures a lot lower than the negative double deuce. This will be a true test.

On paper, 1,200 miles over five days doesn't sound particularly daunting, but factor in uncertain roads, ever-changing weather conditions and an acute lack of sun – we'll be so far north that we'll be in Earth's own shadow, giving us about six or so hours of light – and, well... things start to look more challenging.

We leave snowy Anchorage in a procession at around 10:00 AM just before the sun finally catches fire, and I'm at the wheel, allowing The List crew time to get all of their camera rigging set up in the Sprinter's cavernous interior. For the moment, at least, we have plenty of warmth thanks to an auxiliary heater kicking out 17,000 extra British Thermals. Having ventured up from Edmonton with another team before we arrived, our windshield already sports a patina of cracks and chips from stone-throwing trucks. We will add a few more of our own along the journey, as will every other Sprinter on the trip.

Fuel and food is in similarly short supply the further north we go.

 

Having the first stint allows me to get reacclimated to Sprinter driving – I've had a couple of occasions to drive them before and found them to be great travel partners, with surprisingly comfy rides even when unladen and friendly driving dynamics. I've had them out on the open freeway, I've done the urban schlep loaded down with all and sundry, and I've even had a hilariously good time on a specially prepared obstacle course that included the so-called moose test. That last bit might finally be useful, come to think of it.

As we venture northward, we quickly leave the civility of greater Anchorage and are enveloped by forests and elevation changes. Traffic on the Elliot Highway thins, leaving us to share the road primarily with big rigs and the occasional pickup-piloting local. Despite driving ever closer to the Alaskan Pipeline, fuel and food is in similarly short supply the further north we go, so we stop at the Trapper Creek Trading Post, an offbeat gas station and restaurant, to top up our biological and mechanical tanks. Aside from our posse, the potbelly-heated place is pretty quiet, giving us time to check out old photos of bears on the picnic tables in front and hand-written signs indicating that using an electrical outlet without buying anything will result in a $2.00 charge (which makes the dollar surcharge for using the bathroom seem like a small bargain).

Fully fueled, I retire to the back seat as we drive along the edge of Denali National Park, home to Mt. McKinley, whose 20,000-foot peak is the highest in North America. It's an awe-inspiring sight – one of thousands on this journey. It is here that Otwell – an avid landscape photographer – begins visibly crawling out of his skin, wanting to stop and get a lens on every inch of the scenery. Scenery, I might add, seemingly permanently suspended in the sort of golden hour sun that artists crave. Alaska may not get much light at this time of year, but what it lacks in quantity it makes up for in quality. But we're burning daylight and our caravan really, really does not want to be sharing a pitch-black road with bleary-eyed truckers and nocturnal animals... foaming at the mouth or otherwise. We press on, with Jessi and Patrick sitting up front shooting driving segments for the show, stopping only briefly for quick photo snaps and driver swaps, the men braving Alaska's humbling temps to unzip and paint a few trees and the women crossing their legs a little tighter.

A pair of support vehicles – an M-Class up front and a GL-Class hanging out back – bracket our Sprinter convoy. The vehicles are packed with survival provisions in case we have to spend the night in them, and we hear one of the Sprinter cargo vans is packed with tools, towropes and spare parts including windshields. One of them also has a satellite phone for emergencies, as cell phones don't work this far north. Of course, if things go truly pear-shaped, we're hundreds of miles away from the nearest hospital, so the latter is probably academic.

Each Sprinter is outfitted with two walkie-talkies – one a reserved line to the support vehicles and the other is apparently for journalists' off-color jokes, word games and wildlife spotting, in that order. As we trundle northward, vehicles coming in the opposite direction are so few and far between that an organizer in the M-Class begins calling them out, also providing advance warning of dicier corners when the road inevitably turns even slicker than it already is.

With darkness closing in as we work our way toward Fairbanks, the temperature plummets below where the mercury registers on most civilian thermometers. It doesn't take a glance at the gauge cluster's ambient temperature readout to know it's death-rattle cold even before opening the door. Despite pegging the heaters for the entire trip, we're having real trouble keeping the side and rear windows of the Sprinter defrosted and the onboard heaters just aren't keeping up with our vehicle's Manhattan efficiency-sized interior. Things are rougher the further back in the cabin you get. A half-consumed bottle of pop is found frozen solid on the last row of seats. With the blessing of Mercedes reps, we periodically manually drop down a gear or three to stoke the fires within the cool-running 3.0-liter V6, trying to make more heat. Others follow suit. We have to be mindful of the diesel we consume, however, as we have the heaviest, least aerodynamic rig of the bunch packed with the most people and gear.

I shudder to think at how quickly a Nissan Leaf would brick up here.

In a frozen nowhere in the middle of other frozen nowheres, we disembark at a USA Gasoline truck stop with a small store and sandwich shop. It is -36 degrees outside, and the air is so cold it not only takes your breath away, it claims everything else, too. Jessi and Graham spray water into the air and it turns to vapor, never hitting the ground. I try recording the proceedings with my iPhone, but am only momentarily successful – the cold kills my battery stone dead. I watch the battery readout go from 80% to 14% to 1% in under a minute, unceremoniously turning off and failing to turn back on until an hour later when its internals finally warm. It's just as well that my phone dies – having to momentarily remove my gloves to hit record on my phone's touchscreen isn't a fun experience – after fumbling around without a glove on for maybe a minute, I begin to feel genuine pain and hurry inside.

(After the day's journey, I will come to realize that my laptop's battery has suffered the same fate as my phone, plummeting to zero percent. Unlike my phone, it will refuse to charge ever again. The List crew's considerably costlier video equipment suffers similar failures. I shudder to think at how quickly a Nissan Leaf would brick up here. How do northern Alaskans keep their electronics alive?)

Inside USA Gasoline, there are a few bins of fresh produce, which seem comically out of place. A community bulletin board in the back is surprisingly chock-full of the sorts of items and services hearty Alaskans need in these parts. Beater pickups. Ski-Dos. Gun cleaning. Deer processing. A boarded-up erstwhile bed and breakfast. An ambitiously priced $39,000 open-air ice rink ("previously the indoor ice rink at the BIG DIPPER in Fairbanks!" the ad brags). We fill up our tanks, topping them off with diesel anti-gel to prevent our fuel from turning to petroleum Jell-O.

Arriving in Fairbanks under cover of night, we stop to refuel before we head to our nearby hotel, which sits adjacent to the airport. Our convoy of Sprinters must provide a level of activity that the city isn't used to, because no sooner are we stopped than the station is filled with patrol cars and officers checking out our vans. City police. Airport police. I think the Postmaster shows up. Only momentarily encumbered, we fuel up and head to the hotel.

Despite a hotel parking lot filled with electrical outlets for block warmers, we are instructed to activate our truck's timer-based pre-heaters, which require cycling through the menus on the in-cluster screen using the steering wheel buttons. Perhaps we're too tired and cold, but setting it strikes us as a Byzantine process.

 

We stay the night at Pike's Waterfront Lodge, which is simultaneously the nicest and strangest place we'll stay. The cabin-themed lobby displays a forest of taxidermied animals, bizarre local artwork and a coin-operated fortune-telling duck. Cheery desk attendants unironically offer tokens for free ice cream. We enjoy a civil dinner next door and retire quickly.

A game of strip poker is floated. With as many layers as we're wearing, we could be here all day.

The next morning gets off to a slow start – another team didn't manage to set their pre-heater correctly, rendering their van frozen solid. In addition to the pre-heaters, our Sprinters are wisely fitted with a brace of cold-weather combatants, including an auxiliary warmer for the engine as well as a heated fuel filter and Bluetec emissions system, but none of that matters if the timer isn't set up to do its thing in the now -41-degree cold. Some of our vehicles fail to start until coaxed to life via jumpstart (diesels really don't like cold weather), and the one that wasn't pre-heated refuses to start at all.

After a couple of hours of the support team trying to get it going, a game of strip poker is floated. With as many layers as we're wearing, we could be here all day. Before the cards are dealt, it's decided that the van will need to be taken to a heated garage and left to thaw. We leave it, absorbing its occupants into other vans, and get on with our drive to the Arctic Circle.

I start the morning in another vehicle, a white cargo Sprinter, with co-driver Allyson Harwood, editor of Truck Trend. Our tires thump a little until they warm and find some pliancy, having flat-spotted from the cold. With a smaller cabin to keep up to temp, the cargo Sprinter is much toastier, but even then, we still have to downshift on descents to keep the engine temp gauge above 150 degrees, the threshold at which the HVAC system seems able to throw off heat. This is a welcome shifting strategy, because we're enduring the coldest moments we'll see on the trip. So cold, in fact, that the Sprinter's digital temperature readout goes apoplectic at 40 below, displaying +185F. Other teams report the same phenomenon. When the temperature lifts to -40, the sensor recovers and starts reading normally again.

The Sprinter's digital temperature readout goes apoplectic at 40 below, displaying +185F.

About 100 miles north of Fairbanks, we veer onto Dalton Highway, at which point the road surface immediately deteriorates into a crazy-quilt of asphalt and ice, with the occasional paved section thrown in. Through it all, the Sprinter is genuinely, shockingly good. Our convoy is rolling on a mix of Continental and Michelin snow tires – no studs or chains – and even through the countless precipitous descents and knife-sharp icy crusts, we're plowing along at frankly surprising velocities. Temperature fluctuations and heavy pipeline trucks have led to sizable frost heaves in the surface, and when taken at speed, the few hardcases of camera equipment in the back of our cargo rig go momentarily airborne, only to slam down in spectacularly expensive-sounding fashion. No matter, with the Arctic Circle drawing near, we keep up the heady pace.

Whatever civilian traffic there was before has long since evaporated, and we are left alone with television's Ice Road Truckers and some of the most beautiful vistas anywhere on Earth. Uninterrupted, 360-degree views, with amazing purple skies and Dr. Seussian forests of conifers heaving with snow that looks to have been applied with God's clogged airbrush.

After the amazing views, reaching the Arctic Circle actually proves to be somewhat anticlimactic. There's a large sign and a few historical plaques overlooking a landscape that would be incredible anywhere else but is a dime-a-dozen here. There are no flags from various nations, no jaunty hand-painted totem poles declaring that we are 4,300 miles from Paris and 10,000 miles from Cape Town, no bronze tributes to fallen explorers in lesser cargo vans. We snap a few pictures with our rapidly icing beards, and one particularly large, hirsute and jovial Canadian journo goes shirtless for a photo op, putting a jiggly exclamation point on the proceedings. Then with daylight already waning, we clamber back into our vans and drive the remaining 60 miles to Coldfoot, our base camp for the night. A Thousand Miles From Nowhere by Dwight Yoakam crackles across the walkie-talkie – one of the other vans has found a sliver of FM. After the honky-tonk man's song ends, we scroll across our own radio dial and immediately find Take The Long Way Home by Supertramp. Serendipity.

Reaching the Arctic Circle actually proves to be somewhat anticlimactic.

Our low fuel light aglow, we arrive in Coldfoot in utter darkness. As the story goes, this outpost was founded by a champion Iditarod musher who decided to sell burgers out of a converted school bus to truckers. It has since evolved into an unlikely oasis, with a humble café and bar, a couple of gas pumps, a gravel airstrip, a sled dog kennel and a one-story hotel resembling a network of trailers that plays hosts to truck drivers and wayward tourists such as ourselves.

Upon our arrival, we begin lining up at the fuel pumps, only to learn that the diesel tanker trucks haven't made it yet and the pumps are dry. Despite our Sprinter's low fuel, we are told to leave our trucks running, lest we encounter a repeat of the morning's troubles. (Sorry, AutoblogGreen). We repair to the modest bar/restaurant area, where we chat and drink with truckers, as well as one of Coldfoot's approximately ten locals, a friendly guy lined head to toe in a handmade fur suit that makes him look like a zippered Sasquatch.

Upon wandering across the lot to the hotel, we are greeted by an unexpected sight – dozens of elderly Japanese tourists apparently here to see the Aurora Borealis. Most are tiny women and all are clad in identical purpose-bought parkas. It's a surreal moment. As I'm half-Japanese, it's like suddenly being surrounded by dozens of doppelgangers for my long-dead grandmother. Apparently the Japanese take this Northern Lights thing very seriously – thousands of them inundate Alaska each winter, even going so far as to charter full-size jets from the motherland.

The Northern Lights show themselves just before we are about to give up for the night.

Our Northern Lights tour guide, a member of the tiny off-the-grid community of Wiseman (Population: 14), will later lament that Japanese tourists constantly grenade the area's solar-generated power reserves with their high-wattage rice cookers. More interestingly, he turns out to be one of the most enterprising, thoughtful, well-read and well-spoken people I've ever encountered. His depth of knowledge and the ease with which he explains complex matters of astronomy is astounding. At age 55, he's got a six-month old son, hunts for his family's meat, built his own septic, electrical, and FM phone systems, taught himself to fly a plane and sits on several state government committees in Fairbanks aimed at protecting the land and wildlife. He also roasts his own coffee beans and is the town's mailman. Coming across him is a bit like finding out that Copernicus, Plato and Bear Grylls are the same person. As it turns out, the true Most Interesting Man In The World is alive and well living a few miles down the road from the truck stop at the end of the Earth. It'd be impossible not to feel both lazy and emasculated in his presence, if only he weren't so soft-spoken and self-effacing.

The Northern Lights show themselves just before we are about to give up for the night. It's impossible to predict when they'll be at their most vibrant, but unfortunately, tonight isn't it. We can see a few greenish streaks across the sky, but they're best captured with still cameras, when their long exposures really make them look spectacular.

Having reached the zenith of our journey and accomplishing what we came here to do, we retire to our tiny fiberboard-lined Coldfoot hotel rooms. A welcome respite from the wind and cold, we do our best to ignore the large rattraps placed around what passes for a lobby.

"It once went from 40 below to 40 above in 20 minutes. That's a record."

It's only been a few hours when the alarm goes off, and it's still pitch black out, but we have to get moving. After a phonebooth-sized shower, I grab a quick bite and rejoin my compatriots from The List for the long drive home.

The weather warms dramatically as we backtrack south, and the drive is every bit as awe-inspiring. On the return leg between Fairbanks and Anchorage, the temperatures vary wildly from valley to valley – a local at a gas station in the town of Healy tells me that's because of the area's Chinook winds. "It once went from 40 below to 40 above in 20 minutes. That's a record."

Those rapidly changing temperatures may have contributed to a scary accident that gave me the time to chat up Healy's locals. As we were passing through town, a northbound big rig locked 'em up to avoid a stopped vehicle ahead, and its second trailer jackknifed across the road, collecting an oncoming Ford Econoline van, pushing it backwards into one of our expedition's Sprinters. With the exception of the Ford driver having a cut on his head, everyone escapes injury, our compatriot's Sprinter surviving with an unwelcome front-end restyling.

The long drive home gives me time to reconsider this immense journey. I must admit I didn't picture it being like this at all. Having never been any further north than Iceland, I envisioned the Arctic Circle to be mercilessly flat and windy, a vacant, permafrost hellhole. I'm not much for Star Wars, but that scene with Luke Skywalker on the ice planet Hoth? That's what I had in my head.

I had expected the Sprinter to be a handful, but instead found it to be a docile beast of burden.

I couldn't have been more wrong. Where I expected desolation, I instead encountered majestic Bob Ross landscapes carpeted in impossibly expansive forests. I endured darkness, but also saw the most incredible light. I met amazing people living rich existences in unbelievably harsh conditions. I had expected the Sprinter to be a handful under these circumstances, but instead found it to be a docile beast of burden.

And I learned one very important thing about myself. Clevelanders like me tend to think we're of pretty sturdy stock – we've outlasted lake-effect squalls, a formerly on-fire lake, a serially battered economy and perennial sports team heartbreaks. We laugh at coastal cities with their expensive cost-of-livings, real estate value and... sunlight. At best it's a source of misguided pride, and at worst, it's some sort of defense mechanism that hardens our skins like the comfort food that hardens our arteries. Yet after spending less than a week in the Arctic, I've come to an uncomfortable conclusion. We haven't seen weather, desolation, or even beauty like northern Alaskans know intimately enough to take for granted. We Clevelanders – hell, we Midwesterners – are a bunch of knock-kneed pansies.

I'm already planning a return trip.

source: http://www.autoblog.com/2013/03/22/autoblog-arctic-circle-mercedes-sprinter-alaska-adventure/
by Chris Paukert

http://boscheuropean.com

Mercedes Service and Repair Redwood City - How could a lifted Mercedes-Benz G63 AMG be more awesome? Add an axle - Bosch European Redwood City - 650-368-3000

We are fully confident in saying that this will be the most amazing thing you see all day. First of all, it's a Mercedes-Benz G-Wagen – in AMG spec, no less. And it's being shown off in high-definition video glory, blasting through the desert, jumping over sand dunes, and generally being awesome. But here's the kicker: It has six wheels. Three axles. And they're all driven. Holy $%!#.

Under the hood is AMG's usual 5.5-liter twin-turbocharged V8, and total output is rated at 536 horsepower and 560 pound-feet of torque. That's impressive and all, but do keep in mind that the G63 6x6 weighs in at 8,322 pounds or, you know, the weight of two E-Class sedans. Combine that with its 18 inches of ground clearance, 37-inch tires and five locking differentials and you've got a vehicle capable of, well, everything you've ever imagined or will ever imagine for the rest of your life.

But the goodness doesn't stop once you open the doors. Oh, no. This thing is fit for a king – or a sheik, more appropriately – with ultimately luxurious seating for four. The rear bench seat has been removed in favor of two bucket seats with a fixed console in the middle, and the rear seats have been moved back beyond the usual B pillar to allow for more legroom.

According to Autoweek, the G63 AMG 6x6 will actually be for sale. Speaking to the magazine, the the head of G-Class development, Axel Harries, says that the off-road monster will likely be the second-most expensive Mercedes-Benz model, behind the $457,000 SLS Electric Drive. Right now, the automaker is looking to build maybe 20 or 30 units annually.

If the apocalypse is indeed coming, we'll take one of these to ride out the storm. Scroll down to watch a video of the G63 AMG 6x6 blowing your mind.

 

 

Source: autobild, autoweek, autoblog
by Steven J. Ewing

Mercedes Service and Repair Redwood City - Mercedes SLS AMG Black Series - Bosch European Redwood City - 650-368-3000

 

There have been four Black Series models since the Mercedes-Benz SLK55 AMG Black Series introduced itself to European audiences in 2006. Following that, the Black Series club has hosted appearances by the 2008 CLK63 AMG Black Series, the 2009 SL65 AMG Black Series and last year's 2013 C63 AMG Black Series. The sixth member of the group is one we would have thought already was a Black Series car in its standard guise. Right out of the box, the SLS AMG is loud, frenetic, cozy, boisterous and frightfully easy to oversteer. How much more Black did it need to get?

Quite a bit so, apparently. The SLS AMG Black Series has lost weight, gained power and been refitted with upgrades and aero bits from front to rear. If you liked the way it looked before, you'll probably be an even bigger fan of this one. If you thought it looked ungainly, well, this one should stay even further away from pageants. Regardless of where you come down this is the best SLS AMG variant we've driven.

 

"Extreme performance for the road" and "race driver for the street" were the mottoes that guided development of the SLS AMG Black Series, but that could reasonably be said of every model that has worn the Black Series badge. No other model, however, had a dedicated race variant from which to draw inspiration, whereas this one does: the SLS AMG GT3 race car. Last year, the checkered-flag-only version continued to put the bite behind its ridiculously basso bark with 43 victories and nine titles in global competition, including both driver and team titles in the FIA GT3 and FIA GT1 World Championships.

Ola Källenius, Chairman of Mercedes-AMG, said of the road car, "The new SLS AMG Black Series is a perfect study in the one-hundred-percent transfer of technology and engineering from motorsport to road. We have drawn inspiration from the worldwide success of the SLS AMG GT3 customer sport racing car on both a conceptual and a technological level."

The problem is that, at the drive event we were invited to attend at the Paul Ricard circuit in the South of France, Tobias Moers, Head of Total Vehicle Development at AMG, admits that the tech transfer went, in large part, in the other direction – from the road car to the race car. That is to say, the car you could buy on dealer floors was already engineered to such a high degree that, once you parked it on the paddock straight, you were already halfway there. It's similar to the Audi R8 Grand-Am, in which the production engine has just three changes made to itand the race car is more than half made of up production car bits, the body panels being much of the difference. The SLS AMG GT3 got its carbon-fiber-reinforced polymer (CFRP) torque tube from the road car, and when we asked about getting rid of the HVAC system in the Black Series, Moers told us, "The GT3 car has air conditioning."

When asked what the objective was, Moers said, "We wanted it to be among the best performing cars at the Hockenheimring," which is ostensibly to German car buffs what the Nürburgring has become to us. In the 'short' configuration as used by German magazineSport Auto, Moers said they wanted to take 2.5 seconds off the lap time of the SLS AMG GT at the track. The Black Series did Hockenheim in 1:08, and if these lap times can be trusted, that would put it somewhere between the road-legal Radical SR3 SL and Chevrolet Corvette Z06 with the Z07 Package in the 1:08 bracket, joining other speedy coupes like the Porsche 911 GT2 RS, Lamborghini Aventador LP700-4 and McLaren MP4-12C. Oh, and yes, it does the circuit at least 2.5-seconds quicker than the SLS AMG GT.

An enlarged heart is where the upgrades begin, the 6.2-liter naturally aspirated V8 getting a higher redline in the Black Series than in the GT – 8,000 rpm versus 7,200 rpm – and 39 more horsepower for a total of 622hp at 7,400 rpm. Torque drops a touch, from 479 pound-feet in the GT to 468 lb-ft at 5,500 rpm in the Black Series. To keep her steady in front, AMG installed a gas-filled strut between the engine and the body, and another gas-filled strut stabilizes the transmission.

Since everyone knows a bionic heart needs bionic parts to really show off, the limbs and sinews also come in for nth-degree engineering. A CFRP torque tube runs from the engine to the seven-speed dual-clutch transmission, that gearbox under the orders of rewritten software to perform even quicker shifts and rev-match on downshifts. It has been placed almost half an inch lower to drop the center of gravity, the low CoG aided as well by items like the CFRP hood and CFRP rear bulkhead panel.

The coilover suspension gets new wishbone mounts and knuckles, revised camber settings and bushings and increased spring rates. It hangs out further as well, the track stretched in the front by 0.8 inches, out back by 0.9 inches. The Adaptive Performance suspension's two damping settings for Sport and Sport+ are suited to different terrain: the former for country roads and undulating tracks with altitude variations like The 'Ring where you need a little more body roll and compliance, and the latter for flatter tracks like Paul Ricard.

One hundred and fifty four pounds of track-day bloat have been removed from the Black Series compared to the GT, the titanium exhaust accounting for almost 29 of it. The CFRP torque tube drops almost another 30 pounds, the two-piece high performance brake system omits another 35.3, the ten-spoke forged wheels – 19 inches in front, 20 inches in back wearing Michelin Pilot Sport Cup 2 rubber – shave 8.8 pounds of unsprung mass. A lithium-ion battery replaces the conventional unit, and it sheds nearly 18 pounds by comparison. It could have been made even lighter, but AMG wanted it to be robust enough for year-round use; it doesn't need to be removed in the winter.

The final tally is a curb weight of 3,417 pounds. If you're keeping track, that's a couple hundred pounds more than the 2014 Porsche GT3.

There are no such weight-weenie subtleties on the outside, the SLS AMG Black Series announcing its road-legal race car intentions with a shoebox full of aero bits. Black Series tells like the black surrounds on the rear lights are lost among the fender flares, air intakes and extractors, carbon fiber lips and skirting, a wide rear diffuser and – should one opt for the AMG Aerodynamics Package – a carbon fiber wing with a Gurney flap. It will get you 60 kilograms of downforce at 200 kilometers per hour, and is why the top speed of the Black Series is one mile per hour less than the GT at 196 mph.

DTM legend Bernd Schneider led the way for lead-follows around Paul Ricard, and it was evident as soon as the hot laps began that he wasn't being paid to take it easy. The first version of the SLS AMG didn't hesitate to punish sloppiness or a lack of focus through a corner, throwing its back way out any time it was thoughtlessly provoked. That was brought under control a couple of years later when the suspension settings were revised for more compliance in the less rowdy settings, but it was still ready to do the pendulum without much need for coaxing.

 

The track setup on this day had Turn One as a 90-degree right-hander, another 90-degree right just 50 yards further that was a little more open, then a short straight to build up just enough speed that you'd have to hit the brakes hard for a 90-degree left-hander that went immediately into a 90-degree right and an increasing-radius left that led to a long straight, after which the rest of the track opened up into single- and double-apex high-speed sweepers left and right until the final tight right took you back onto the main straight.

That first sequence would have been at least four invitations to mess up the entire lap, and perhaps even your day and one of the press cars, in the original SLS AMG. On top of that, when we took the roadgoing SLS AMG out on the Autobahn just a few months ago, we found it to be a little nervous once deep into triple digits.

Both of those behaviors have been quelled in the SLS AMG Black Series. Strap into the non-adjustable carbon fiber buckets in the Black Series – we won't get those in the US, we'll get the traditional seats – and pull out onto the track, and the first two surprises are the thinness of the Alcantara-shod, flat-bottomed steering wheel and the lightness of the steering. For all its lightness, though, it is precise. We wouldn't complain about having to make more effort, but we've no complaints about what you can do with it. 

Torch the throttle down the main straight and the speed comes on quickly, the roar from the titanium exhaust doing so even more quickly. Fitted with new center and rear mufflers, this thing shouts inside and outside such that the engine note alone can practically tell you all you need to know about what you're doing and how you're doing it.

When we began braking to set up for the first turns, see-sawed the wheel left and right a few times and made it onto the back straight, our initial question was why everything went so well. There was a three-part answer: the suspension tuning with greater rigidity in front for better turn-in and mid-corner stability, the additional CFRP stiffening throughout the chassis, and the electronically locking rear differential that replaces the mechanical item. That electronic LSD, introduced to the Mercedes-Benz lineup on this car, does the equivalent of ordering the back of the car "Behave!" Instead of the feeling we usually get in an SLS AMG, which is "This thing can get out of hand at any moment," we felt, "This will get out of hand if I get out of hand." We didn't turn ESP completely off, the stability program tune in S+ offering plenty of rear-wheel slidey action and four-wheel drift through the sweepers to match our abilities.

Getting well above 100 miles per hour on the front and back straights, at no time did we experience the nervousness encountered in the standard road car. In fact, we wished the straights were longer. There might have been a speed at which we felt, "Hey, this might be enough," we just never got there. 

While we were told that the S+ setting is for flat tracks like Paul Ricard, "flat" is a relative term – the Black Series in S+ is stiff enough to register the variations even in Paul Ricard's surface. So although certain unruly former aspects of the SLS road car have been quelled in the Black Series, we're happy they haven't been completely tamed – the constant feedback in the ride never lets you forget you're driving seriously tuned track-day hardware, but the knowledge stays front-of-mind for the right reasons. You can focus on mastering the beast instead of counting how many times the beast seemed intent on throwing you off.

The SLS AMG Black Series goes on sale on our shores this summer. Production will be very limited and there are only a handful of options like the color, whether to delete the COMAND infotainment system (and save 13 pounds) or include the 1,000-watt Bang & Olufsen sound system, and how many carbon fiber bits you'd like to stick on the outside.

There are easier street-legal race cars to drive, but there can be too much of a smooth thing, too – there's a reason that rodeo riders saddle up to conquer broncos and bulls, not cows. The SLS AMG Black Series hits a good balance; neither surgical nor monstrous, it's involving. Learn to ride it hard, you'll find it rewarding, too.

 

Image credit: Copyright 2013 Matt Davis / AOL
source: autoblog
by Jonathon Ramsey

Mercedes Sprinter Service and Repair Redwood City - Mercedes brings the Maybach touch to the Sprinter - Bosch European Redwood City - 650-368-3000

The Mercedes-Benz Sprinter is perfect for shuttling a half-dozen people to the airport, but what if you prefer a ride that's a bit more upscale, yet still want enough room to stand up and mill about? Brilliant Transportation has the answer, and its Brilliant Van doesn't just add a touch of luxury, it makes a Maybach seem downright plebeian.

The Brilliant Van is essentially a top-shelf limousine with way more head room. Rather than rows of seats, this luxury Sprinter comes equipped with four leather thrones that wouldn't look out of placing in a mansion's drawing room. Inside, passengers can watch TV on one of two 32-inch flat screens and listen to music through an eight-speaker audio setup. The TV screens grab a DirecTV signal and occupants can block out the rest of the passengers through wireless headphones. If you want to get on the Internet, the Brilliant Van is equipped with WiFi, and also features a color-printer and hands-free phone system.

Brilliant Transportation currently operates fleets in New York and Los Angeles. That's perfect for us, because we've been looking for a proper vehicle to shuttle us to Las Vegas. This way we don't have to plunk down$190,000 for the Mercedes-Benz Sprinter Grand Edition.

source: autoblog, mercedes benz
by Jeff Glucker

http://www.boscheuropean.com

Mercedes Service and Repair Redwood City - History of the Mercedes-Benz 600 - Bosch European Redwood City 650-368-3000

 At the 1963 Frankfurt International Motor Show, Mercedes-Benz introduced an extraordinary limousine. As a successor to the legendary pre-war 540K Grosser, the W100 '600' was acclaimed to be the world's finest automobile.

The mission to create this ultimate statement of automotive style and engineering began on June 4th of 1955 when Dr. Fritz Nallinger, Rudolf Uhlenhaut, Joseph Muller and Karl Wilfert were given an unlimited budget and free rein to create the best vehicle that could be built. The timeless styling was done by Paul Bracq and Bruno Sacco.

Every single part of the 600 was newly designed and built. A new 6.3 liter V-8 engine supplied the power. Everything was operated by a hydraulic system including the windows, seats, door locks, trunk lid, sunroof, disc brakes and the doors.

There were several variants available; a standard wheelbase 4 door sedan, a long wheelbase 4 or 6 door Pullman, and a Landaulet which had a convertible top for the rear passengers.

The prestigious 600 remained in production from 1963 to 1981 with a total of 2677 vehicles produced. There were 2169 SWB Limousines, 428 Pullmans and 59 Landaulets.

A representation of the absolute pinnacle of automobile engineering the Mercedes- Benz 600 was introduced in 1963. The 600 has been owned by such famous people as Elvis Presley, John Lennon, Jason Kay, Hugh Hefner, Elizabeth Taylor and Aristotle Onassis.

Produced until 1980, the Mercedes has never had a equal until the Mayback 57 and 62 models were introduced. In extremely limited numbers, the 600's M-100 engine and air suspension were fitted to the 300SEL 6.3 model in 1966. This resulted in a lighter and more affordable vehicle that was now available with more competent suspension.
A larger version of the M-100 was installed following the introduction of the 'W116'.

Designed by Dr. Uhlenhaut, only two coupes were created, one of them was given as a gift to him on his retirement.

A vehicle that was incredibly heavy, a massive 6.3L V8 engine that came with specially developed overhead camshafts and Bosch mechanical fuel injection to move the vehicle.

The vehicle was a smooth ride with good handling that came with adjustable air suspension that improved the vehicles agility.

In 1965, production began after following two years of remodeling the 1963 model.

A large luxury automobile, it featured many prestigious features including a complex hydraulic system that powered everything from seats, windows and automatic closing doors.

The vehicle was extremely smooth with exceptional handling over any and all road surfaces, due to the adjustable air suspension. 

Available in several variants, the Mercedes-Benz 600 was came in either a 4 door sedan on a short wheelbase (similar to a modern S600 sedan) or a 4-door sedan with a power window that separated the front seats from the rear bench seat.

It also was available in a 4 door limousine on a longer wheelbase that featured two rear-facing seats and a rear bench seat, or a 6-door limousine on a long wheelbase chassis. The 6-door limousine came with two forward facing jump seats that were stationed at the middle two doors and rear bench seat.

Several limousines called landaulets came with a convertible top over the rear passenger compartment. Landaulets were taken on the market in 1971.

A total of 2,677 vehicles were produced by 1981 when product was discontinued.

source: http://www.conceptcarz.com/z19660/Mercedes-Benz-600.aspx

by Jessica Donaldson

 

http://www.boscheuropean.com

Mercedes Service and Repair Redwood City - History of the Mercedes-Benz S500 - Bosch European Redwood City 650-368-3000

 

The S500, unquestionably the best car in the class, and arguably the most complete road car in history, is the perfect riposte to the bleak news that has hounded Daimler Chrysler throughout 2005. Forget pension deficits, healthcare burdens and errant CEOs names after small crustacia, this is Mercedes showing us what it does best. Building big saloon cars to a standard that will leave rival manufacturers contemplating whether they shall ever catch-up. They have been trying –and consistently failing- for thirty years now.

With the S500, the horseless carriage is finally reaching the point at which little further silence can be expected within the confines of piston-power and radial round rubber. Mercedes has paid obsessive attention to the noble art of tranquility and the result is a driving experience like no other. Never has a driver felt so remote from the outside world, and yet remained connected to the car to such a helpful degree.

This is not a beautiful car. It lacks the grace of its predecessor, but it has enough presence to justify the badge. The cabin is a revolution for Mercedes and should raise a few smirks at BMW because the basic architecture is very 7-series.

But before Munich chuckles too loudly, it should closely scrutinize what Benz has achieved with this interior. It has managed to make a complicated environment far more approachable than ever before. There is a rotary control for just about every aspect of the car's entertainment, navigation and heating systems, but there is also a bank of one-touch switches for the most commonly selected functions, plus a separate keypad for the telephone. This is intuitive multi-function control design.

Meets considerable shove. The 5461cc V8 now produces 388bhp at 6000rpm, and with seven forward gears Mercedes has managed to trim the 0-62mph time back to just 5.6sec. Being so silent the performance doesn’t seem that strong, but watch the speedo needle at work and you’ll be both impressed and alarmed at the rate at which the numbers build. Up-shifts are felt with the faintest shimmer, but the gearbox can be slow to respond to a kick-down demand and occasionally thumps an awkward change. You get the distinct feeling that the only reason you can hear the engine is because Mercedes felt that occupants might enjoy some background V8-grumble. This has been judged to perfection.

At 1940kg, it would be reasonable to expect the S500 to flatten the surface beneath it, but sadly it still has to contend with the vagaries of the British highway. Comfort is the primary reason for the existence of the luxury saloon because the class below is now so competent and spacious. Drive an S500 on the optional Airmatic suspension with ABC body control and (inhale) optional dynamic multi-contour front seats with massage function, then jump into an E320 CDi and it will feel, sound and irritate like a ratty Ford Cortina. The S500’s chassis is so well adjusted to its role as the filter between occupant’s bodies and road surface that it makes very competent exec saloons seem harsh. Virtually every aspect sets new standards: body control, medium and high-speed ride, head-toss, overall fatigue. You drive an S500 and you relax. You passenger an S500 and you doze.

Only in low-speed ride is this not the finest car made. So much of the pillowy levitation that characterized the best Jaguar XJ saloons of old was bound up in a fleshy sidewall. The S500’s optional 18in Pirelli P-Zero Rossos have a 45 profile that no manner of air-sphere trickery can compensate for. They do however allow this two-ton lummox to scamper where it should loaf: no owner will drive their S500 in this way, but between jobs their driver will find great sport annoying 330is. I truly enjoyed flinging this car about, in the main because it has a brilliant traction control system that allows a degree of slip and the most subtle intervention imaginable.

Now is not the time to expand on the technology in the S500: we haven’t the space. Sifting standard gear from options isn’t easy, naturally some of the trickiest toys are costly add-ons. But I have never before driven a car with night-vision, and can only say that it is staggering. Nor have I experience of a car stereo half as majestic as the Harmon Kardon unit fitted here, or of a digital tv with a better picture and more channels then the unit I have in my sitting room. I have used a car with a reversing camera before, but not one that integrates the radar function to outline how best to complete a three-pointer. And Brake Assist Plus  – a function that practically does all the middle-pedal work for you when the creek gets choppy and one’s paddle is missing- is currently more than I can deal with. Hopefully it is something I won’t need to use during my brief time with this immense expression of what the motor car has become. To look at, let alone purchase any other car in this sector would be lunacy.

Source: http://www.autocar.co.uk/car-review/mercedes-benz/s-class/first-drives/mercedes-benz-s500

By Chris Harris

http://www.boscheuropean.com

Mercedes Service and Repair Redwood City - History of the Mercedes-Benz CLS - Bosch European Redwood City 650-368-3000

The Mercedes-Benz CLS is a mid-size luxury four-door--technically a sedan but one described by Mercedes as "coupe-like". The CLS is really an alternative to the E Class it's based on, even to the bigger S Class--a more expressively styled piece that's priced between the more conservative four-doors.

The CLS now has more direct rivals, as the past few years have seen the launch of the Audi A7 and the BMW 6-Series Gran Sport. The Jaguar XJ also comes to mind, as does the reasonably sleek Infiniti M.

The first-generation CLS-Class was sold from the 2006 to the 2011 model years in the U.S. This version set the pace for "four-door coupes," with radically swoopy, curvy, and coupelike lines that weathered well over its life cycle. Inside, the first-generation CLS instrument panel was much like that elsewhere in the Mercedes lineup. The roofline's aggressive tapering drew the biggest contrast with the E-Class, diminishing back seat space in the name of style. Instead of a conventional bench seat in back, Mercedes-Benz installed two bucket seats that were comfortable for smaller adults, but lacking in headroom for larger adults. Rearward visibility proved difficult too, thanks to thick roof pillars and smaller windows.

The first CLS was built on most of the same mechanical underpinnings as the pre-2010 Mercedes-E-Class sedan. It was introduced as a CLS500 or CLS55 AMG—the CLS500 including a 302-horsepower, 5.0-liter V-8, the latter a 469-hp, 5.5-liter V-8. In 2007, those models were replaced by the 391-hp, 5.5-liter CLS550 and the 507-hp, 6.3-liter CLS63 AMG. Any of these models have the capability to accelerate confidently and smoothly from any legal or extra-legal speed and come with a responsive seven-speed automatic transmission.

AMG models come with paddle-shifters and are sport-car quick; the CLS63 AMG can get to 60 mph in less than 4.5 seconds. In any of these versions, fuel economy is unimpressive—low teens in the city, mid to upper teens on the highway. Overall, the CLS rides and handles more like a luxury car than a performance sedan; despite an air suspension in most versions, there's quite a bit of body motion if you try to drive the CLS quickly. The CLS63 AMG version handles considerably better, without riding any worse.

Powertrains aside, the CLS-Class changed very little from its 2006 introduction through the 2011 model year. The model got an updated grille, new wheels, and a few other small changes for 2009, along with the latest version of Mercedes-Benz's COMAND navigation and entertainment interface. Interior appointments are excellent in this generation, with more colorful and daring interior themes than M-B uses in its other vehicles.

Completely redesigned in 2011 as a 2012 model--including an AMG model at launch--the CLS Class still rides atop the same architecture, but has grown a bit longer, though passenger space is about the same, and trunk space a bit reduced. The shape's even more dramatic than before, with the blocky, masculine front end now common on the Mercedes lineup fitted to a body with more crests and curves than ever. The ponton flares stamped into the rear quarter panels are especially distinctive, while the heavy-lidded taillamps may be the least inspiring detail. The new CLS interior is positively bejeweled with chrome trim, and encased in wood or aluminum trim, depending on the model.

With its more aggressively arched roofline and more flowing design, the CLS appeals to those who want a little more versatility for carrying backseat passengers compared to the Mercedes-Benz CL-Class coupes. But it's still a little tight inside: the lower roof trims headroom, especially in the snug-fitting back seat.

Three versions of the CLS are offered. There's a CLS 550 with a downsized 4.6-liter twin-turbo V-8 with 402 horsepower and a paddle-shifted seven-speed automatic, good for 0-60 mph times of about 5.0 seconds and a top speed of 130 mph; it also comes with all-wheel drive as the CLS 550 4MATIC. The performance version, the CLS 63 AMG, fits a 5.5-liter twin-turbo V-8 and a seven-speed dual-clutch transmission under the polarizing body, for 518 horsepower, a 0-60 mph time of as low as 4.3 seconds, and a top speed as high as 186 mph. Steering feel has improved on both versions though it's now electrically assisted, and the performance gulf has grown more sharp, with non-AMG versions setting a relaxed but controlled pace, and tuned versions almost eradicating body roll and really, any passivity.

source: http://www.thecarconnection.com/cars/mercedes-benz_cls-class

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