It’s the little things that surprise and delight you after you’re done admiring the compact, all-metal-no-plastic exterior of the 1969 Mercedes-Benz 280 SL Roadster you’ve been loaned for a 24-hour experience, courtesy of your Friends at Mercedes-Benz.
It’s also the pushbutton AM/FM radio with its tinny mono speaker mounted in the center of the dashboard.
It’s the high-beam switch on the floor to the left of the brake.
It’s the rectangular lidless wooden storage box between the seats and the three keys – one for ignition, another for doors and trunk, another for gas cap, and so on.
This antique is a unique, fascinating juxtaposition of tough, sturdy metal combined with controls which, at the Methusalah-age of 55, must be treated delicately.
Execs say the Mercedes-Benz 280SL was the last of a popular and successful line that began with the 230 SL of 1963. The 280SL was introduced in 1967 and arrived with a new 2.8-liter six-cylinder engine offering 180 horsepower, which was 20 additional horsepower over the preceding 250 SLs. The 120 mph top speed was the same as the 250 SL and the vehicle could go from 0-60 mph in 10 seconds.
The seats are well-broken in but still in fine shape. A luckier fellow than me has obviously spent a few years seeing the world from where I’m sitting now. The phrase “roll down your window” is literal.
I crank it up, rrr-rrr-rrr, and shift a pen-thin automatic shift stalk on my floor into a bizarre gap between “4” and “neutral” – there is no “D” for “Drive” – and step on it.
There’s power steering but no ABS brakes, and I’m brought back to my childhood when one’s hands and feet were far more engaged, feel-wise, than in today’s modern rides.
When new, the 280 SL roadster would do 0-60 in 12 seconds via its 6 cylinder, 170-horsepower engine, but I’m not going to push it. Yes, it’s been restored, but its 93,000 odometer miles, while not astronomic for a car this age, nonetheless warrant caution. The engine is pleasingly noisy, especially for a little guy, and as we slow down to approach lights, the car emits a few spirited blorts from its exhaust.
Imagine that – a car that sounds like a car. It also stinks of oil a bit here and there, but it’s charming.
It’s time for tunes. Since it’s not 1969 anymore and AM radio isn’t going to play hits from the Nixon era, I’d like to somehow hook up my almost-as-ancient iPod – to something.
I score, finding a 1/8 inch jack next to the volume knob on the radio, and I just happen to have a 1/8 cord in my backpack. In a few moments, I’ve cued up “Green River” and all is groovy.
Restored editions are selling for as much as $150,000, so this is a special ride from a special time, a less complicated time, a more connected time, a better time in some ways, not in others, naturally.
But one can’t help of think of 1969 when rolling in this time capsule, and these facts:
*WW2 had ended just 24 years before the 280 SL was birthed.
*President John F. Kennedy had been assassinated only six years ago.
*The Beatles were still together.
*The World Trade Center hadn’t been built yet.
“Awesome” meant “a sunset” or “A baby being born.”
*People who said “Swell!” and “Don’t get sore!” were still walking around.
Time flies! Sometimes it sprints. But not in the SL 280. It’s kid gloves for this old gal.
*A special shout-out to the Mercedes-Benz PR team, who provided me with vital info to include in this article.