SL/R129: Silver Chariot Flying Through the Desert
11-02-2005, 02:29 PM
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SL500 2001 Formula 1 Edition;
Silver Chariot Flying Through the Desert
"A fiery chariot, borne on buoyant pinions, Sweeps near me now! I soon shall ready be to pierce the ther's high, unknown dominions, To reach new spheres of pure activity!"
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust (bk. I, sc. 1)
As planned, I woke hours before the sun was up, with the anticipation of riding my silver chariot through the desert as the sun arose. I had spent that Saturday polishing her gleaming silver flanks, shining her wheels, carressing her soft leather interior, and otherwise preparing her for our early morning ride. When I said good night to her, it seemed as if she was sad that we didn't get to take our trip right then. But I told her to sleep well, that it would be only a few hours.
Too bad I could not sleep so well. At 3:30 a.m. I started to pack and shower, and by 5 we were on the road -- destination, Las Vegas, Nevada.
5 a.m. Sunday morning and even in Los Angeles, there was little traffic to get in our way. It was a half hour drive to the I-15 and then we really started to fly, because the road was nearly empty. And this is where the Xenon headlamps pay off. As we approached left-lane bandits at near triple digit speeds, they almost always moved over promptly.
2 hours later, 170 miles, we were in Baker, home of the world's largest thermometer.
The drive was amazing. The CD player was blasting loud rock 'n' roll. First we were "Bad to the Bone". Then we were "Born to be Bad" But really, my Baby was at her best flying through the desert, at speeds up to 125 mph. Stable. Comfortable. All the power to pass that one could ask for. Whatever I asked, she did.
There was no questioning, just a willingness to fly through the desert as fast as I wanted. A push back into my seat whenever I pushed the accelarator.
We would cruise along at 80 or 90 and wait for an open strech of interstate with no other cars around -- and then blast up to 120 or more -- and then cruise back down to 80 or so. Tickets? Accidents? Expensive Gas? Who cares about that stuff. This was a fool's wasteful drive, and like a horny teenager with no condom and a willing partner, I wasn't too worried about the consequences. And I didn't have a back-seat driver either. I gave my girlfriend a plane ticket and told her I'd pick her up at the airport in Vegas (she's gone now, I can't imagine why).
We stopped in Baker for some gas, some coffee, a bite to eat . . . and we were sad. Vegas was only about other 90 miles, and that would have been about only another hour to drive.
But then we noticed the sign . . .
Death Valley, 112 miles. We had never been to Death Valley. And it was only 7:30 on Sunday morning. And there was a two lane road leading there. With no other cars in sight.
90 minutes and several dozen road twisties later, we were at the Death Valley Visitor's Center. HA! It is an OUTHOUSE, a bulletin board and two trash cans! The people who were there, the ones with funny accents and the cameras strapped around their necks, seemed confused. They asked me, "Please, which way to souviener stand?" I just smiled and pointed to the outhouse.
But the trip there was so much fun. Passing on the two-lane was no problem. There's a car ahead. Is the left lane clear? Yes. Now the car is behind. A few seconds later it is gone from the review mirror.
After checking out the "visitor center" I got back in my baby and cruised to Vegas right through the famous "area 51". Later, I heard reports on the radio about a very low flying silver aircraft seen flying through the desert. It was the first UFO sighting in the area since the 1960's.
I was staying at the new Wynn Hotel, and I was so proud of my Baby and how the valets admired her.
And I started to think, "Is there any question about why people love R129's?" Can there be any doubt that these were one of the finest automoblies to come off a production line? Speed and beauty and grace and comfort and poise and stability. What more could you ask for in a car?
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust (bk. I, sc. 1)
As planned, I woke hours before the sun was up, with the anticipation of riding my silver chariot through the desert as the sun arose. I had spent that Saturday polishing her gleaming silver flanks, shining her wheels, carressing her soft leather interior, and otherwise preparing her for our early morning ride. When I said good night to her, it seemed as if she was sad that we didn't get to take our trip right then. But I told her to sleep well, that it would be only a few hours.
Too bad I could not sleep so well. At 3:30 a.m. I started to pack and shower, and by 5 we were on the road -- destination, Las Vegas, Nevada.
5 a.m. Sunday morning and even in Los Angeles, there was little traffic to get in our way. It was a half hour drive to the I-15 and then we really started to fly, because the road was nearly empty. And this is where the Xenon headlamps pay off. As we approached left-lane bandits at near triple digit speeds, they almost always moved over promptly.
2 hours later, 170 miles, we were in Baker, home of the world's largest thermometer.
The drive was amazing. The CD player was blasting loud rock 'n' roll. First we were "Bad to the Bone". Then we were "Born to be Bad" But really, my Baby was at her best flying through the desert, at speeds up to 125 mph. Stable. Comfortable. All the power to pass that one could ask for. Whatever I asked, she did.
There was no questioning, just a willingness to fly through the desert as fast as I wanted. A push back into my seat whenever I pushed the accelarator.
We would cruise along at 80 or 90 and wait for an open strech of interstate with no other cars around -- and then blast up to 120 or more -- and then cruise back down to 80 or so. Tickets? Accidents? Expensive Gas? Who cares about that stuff. This was a fool's wasteful drive, and like a horny teenager with no condom and a willing partner, I wasn't too worried about the consequences. And I didn't have a back-seat driver either. I gave my girlfriend a plane ticket and told her I'd pick her up at the airport in Vegas (she's gone now, I can't imagine why).
We stopped in Baker for some gas, some coffee, a bite to eat . . . and we were sad. Vegas was only about other 90 miles, and that would have been about only another hour to drive.
But then we noticed the sign . . .
Death Valley, 112 miles. We had never been to Death Valley. And it was only 7:30 on Sunday morning. And there was a two lane road leading there. With no other cars in sight.
90 minutes and several dozen road twisties later, we were at the Death Valley Visitor's Center. HA! It is an OUTHOUSE, a bulletin board and two trash cans! The people who were there, the ones with funny accents and the cameras strapped around their necks, seemed confused. They asked me, "Please, which way to souviener stand?" I just smiled and pointed to the outhouse.
But the trip there was so much fun. Passing on the two-lane was no problem. There's a car ahead. Is the left lane clear? Yes. Now the car is behind. A few seconds later it is gone from the review mirror.
After checking out the "visitor center" I got back in my baby and cruised to Vegas right through the famous "area 51". Later, I heard reports on the radio about a very low flying silver aircraft seen flying through the desert. It was the first UFO sighting in the area since the 1960's.
I was staying at the new Wynn Hotel, and I was so proud of my Baby and how the valets admired her.
And I started to think, "Is there any question about why people love R129's?" Can there be any doubt that these were one of the finest automoblies to come off a production line? Speed and beauty and grace and comfort and poise and stability. What more could you ask for in a car?
Last edited by mebeJOE; 11-02-2005 at 04:25 PM.
11-02-2005, 04:14 PM
#2
Originally Posted by mebeJOE
"A fiery chariot, borne on buoyant pinions, Sweeps near me now! I soon shall ready be to pierce the ther's high, unknown dominions, To reach new spheres of pure activity!"
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust (bk. I, sc. 1)
As planned, I woke hours before the sun was up, with the anticipation of riding my silver chariot through the desert as the sun arose. I had spent that Saturday polishing her gleaming silver flanks, shining her wheels, carressing her soft leather interior, and otherwise preparing her for our early morning ride. When I side good night to her, it seemed as if she was sad that we didn't get to take our trip right then. But I told her to sleep well, that it would be only a few hours.
Too bad I could not sleep so well. At 3:30 a.m. I started to pack and shower, and by 5 we were on the road -- destination, Las Vegas, Nevada.
5 a.m. Sunday morning and even in Los Angeles, there was little traffic to get in our way. It was a half hour drive to the I-15 and then we really started to fly, because the road was nearly empty. And this is where the Xenon headlamps pay off. As we approached left-lane bandits at near triple digit speeds, they almost always moved over promptly.
2 hours later, 170 miles, we were in Baker, home of the world's largest thermometer.
The drive was amazing. The CD player was blasting loud rock 'n' roll. First we were "Bad to the Bone". Then we were "Born to be Bad" But really, my Baby was at her best flying through the desert, at speeds up to 125 mph. Stable. Comfortable. All the power to pass that one could ask for. Whatever I asked, she did.
There was no questioning, just a willingness to fly through the desert as fast as I wanted. A push back into my seat whenever I pushed the accelarator.
We would cruise along at 80 or 90 and wait for an open strech of interstate with no other cars around -- and then blast up to 120 or more -- and then cruise back down to 80 or so. Tickets? Accidents? Expensive Gas? Who cares about that stuff. This was a fool's wasteful drive, and like a horny teenager with no condom and a willing partner, I wasn't too worried about the consequences. And I didn't have a back-seat driver either. I gave my girlfriend a plane ticket and told her I'd pick her up at the airport in Vegas (she's gone now, I can't imagine why).
We stopped in Baker for some gas, some coffee, a bite to eat . . . and we were sad. Vegas was only about other 90 miles, and that would have been about only another hour to drive.
But then we noticed the sign . . .
Death Valley, 112 miles. We had never been to Death Valley. And it was only 7:30 on Sunday morning. And there was a two lane road leading there. With no other cars in sight.
80 minutes and several dozen road twisties later, we were at the Death Valley Visitor's Center. HA! It is an OUTHOUSE, a bulletin board and two trash cans! The people who were there, the ones with funny accents and the cameras strapped around their necks, seemed confused. They asked me, "Please, which way to souviener stand?" I just smiled and pointed to the outhouse.
But the trip there was so much fun. Passing on the two-lane was no problem. There's a car ahead. Is the left lane clear? Yes. Now the car is behind. A few seconds later it is gone from the review mirror.
After checking out the "visitor center" I got back in my baby and cruised to Vegas right through the famous "area 51". Later, I heard reports on the radio about a very low flying silver aircraft seen flying through the desert. It was the first UFO sighting in the area since the 1960's.
I was staying at the new Wynn Hotel, and I was so proud of my Baby and how the valets admired her.
And I started to think, "Is there any question about why people love R129's?" Can there be any doubt that these were one of the finest automoblies to come off a production line? Speed and beauty and grace and comfort and poise and stability. What more could you ask for in a car?
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust (bk. I, sc. 1)
As planned, I woke hours before the sun was up, with the anticipation of riding my silver chariot through the desert as the sun arose. I had spent that Saturday polishing her gleaming silver flanks, shining her wheels, carressing her soft leather interior, and otherwise preparing her for our early morning ride. When I side good night to her, it seemed as if she was sad that we didn't get to take our trip right then. But I told her to sleep well, that it would be only a few hours.
Too bad I could not sleep so well. At 3:30 a.m. I started to pack and shower, and by 5 we were on the road -- destination, Las Vegas, Nevada.
5 a.m. Sunday morning and even in Los Angeles, there was little traffic to get in our way. It was a half hour drive to the I-15 and then we really started to fly, because the road was nearly empty. And this is where the Xenon headlamps pay off. As we approached left-lane bandits at near triple digit speeds, they almost always moved over promptly.
2 hours later, 170 miles, we were in Baker, home of the world's largest thermometer.
The drive was amazing. The CD player was blasting loud rock 'n' roll. First we were "Bad to the Bone". Then we were "Born to be Bad" But really, my Baby was at her best flying through the desert, at speeds up to 125 mph. Stable. Comfortable. All the power to pass that one could ask for. Whatever I asked, she did.
There was no questioning, just a willingness to fly through the desert as fast as I wanted. A push back into my seat whenever I pushed the accelarator.
We would cruise along at 80 or 90 and wait for an open strech of interstate with no other cars around -- and then blast up to 120 or more -- and then cruise back down to 80 or so. Tickets? Accidents? Expensive Gas? Who cares about that stuff. This was a fool's wasteful drive, and like a horny teenager with no condom and a willing partner, I wasn't too worried about the consequences. And I didn't have a back-seat driver either. I gave my girlfriend a plane ticket and told her I'd pick her up at the airport in Vegas (she's gone now, I can't imagine why).
We stopped in Baker for some gas, some coffee, a bite to eat . . . and we were sad. Vegas was only about other 90 miles, and that would have been about only another hour to drive.
But then we noticed the sign . . .
Death Valley, 112 miles. We had never been to Death Valley. And it was only 7:30 on Sunday morning. And there was a two lane road leading there. With no other cars in sight.
80 minutes and several dozen road twisties later, we were at the Death Valley Visitor's Center. HA! It is an OUTHOUSE, a bulletin board and two trash cans! The people who were there, the ones with funny accents and the cameras strapped around their necks, seemed confused. They asked me, "Please, which way to souviener stand?" I just smiled and pointed to the outhouse.
But the trip there was so much fun. Passing on the two-lane was no problem. There's a car ahead. Is the left lane clear? Yes. Now the car is behind. A few seconds later it is gone from the review mirror.
After checking out the "visitor center" I got back in my baby and cruised to Vegas right through the famous "area 51". Later, I heard reports on the radio about a very low flying silver aircraft seen flying through the desert. It was the first UFO sighting in the area since the 1960's.
I was staying at the new Wynn Hotel, and I was so proud of my Baby and how the valets admired her.
And I started to think, "Is there any question about why people love R129's?" Can there be any doubt that these were one of the finest automoblies to come off a production line? Speed and beauty and grace and comfort and poise and stability. What more could you ask for in a car?
11-03-2005, 03:48 AM
#4
Member
I'll second and triple that AMEN..
Poetry in motion..Don't we love car fanatism?
When is the book coming out? the whole R129 world cannot wait!!
Poetry in motion..Don't we love car fanatism?
When is the book coming out? the whole R129 world cannot wait!!
11-03-2005, 11:09 AM
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SL500 2001 Formula 1 Edition;
Death Valley Visitor Center
First, thanks for all the kind words about my story.
Okay, here's a photo of the outhouse at the visitor center (and my baby). Really, this was a case wherein ALL the fun was getting there. I wasn't joking when I wrote that the visitor center is an outhouse, a bulletin board and two trash cans. Sorry, I didn't take any photos of the trash cans or the bulletin board.
But it really was worth the drive. Do it early before it is too hot and the road fills up.
What really amazes me the most about this car is how effortless it makes it all seem. I drove like a crazy man for 3.5 hours; covered about 275 to 300 miles, and didn't feel even a little fatigued. Then I drove to Vegas, which was another 2 hours or so from Death Valley, and I still felt great (although I was feeling the lack of sleep a little).
I've driven coast to coast a few times in lesser cars, and many many times from L.A. to way up north in California (look up Alturas on the map http://www.mapquest.com/directions/m...uras&2s=ca&2z=, my brother lives there -- but don't take the 5 -- go up through the desert, take 395 and then through Mammouth or get off the 5 in about Stockton and take these back roads that eventually wind their way to Tahoe -- beautiful beautiful) and usually after a few hours, my shoulders are aching or my legs get stiff or I get frustrated because the car doesn't have the power to pass fast enough or whatever.
But not with this baby. I can't wait until I have time to take a real vacation and drive her a couple thousand miles.
Okay, here's a photo of the outhouse at the visitor center (and my baby). Really, this was a case wherein ALL the fun was getting there. I wasn't joking when I wrote that the visitor center is an outhouse, a bulletin board and two trash cans. Sorry, I didn't take any photos of the trash cans or the bulletin board.
But it really was worth the drive. Do it early before it is too hot and the road fills up.
What really amazes me the most about this car is how effortless it makes it all seem. I drove like a crazy man for 3.5 hours; covered about 275 to 300 miles, and didn't feel even a little fatigued. Then I drove to Vegas, which was another 2 hours or so from Death Valley, and I still felt great (although I was feeling the lack of sleep a little).
I've driven coast to coast a few times in lesser cars, and many many times from L.A. to way up north in California (look up Alturas on the map http://www.mapquest.com/directions/m...uras&2s=ca&2z=, my brother lives there -- but don't take the 5 -- go up through the desert, take 395 and then through Mammouth or get off the 5 in about Stockton and take these back roads that eventually wind their way to Tahoe -- beautiful beautiful) and usually after a few hours, my shoulders are aching or my legs get stiff or I get frustrated because the car doesn't have the power to pass fast enough or whatever.
But not with this baby. I can't wait until I have time to take a real vacation and drive her a couple thousand miles.
Last edited by mebeJOE; 11-03-2005 at 01:14 PM.
11-03-2005, 01:24 PM
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Mercedes: 1998 SL500, 1997 S500, 1998 SLK230 K
There is nothing and I mean nothing in the automotive world that even comes close to the beauty and preformance of the 129. Thanks for the great write up. As a fellow addict of the beautiful BEAST I say amen, amen and amen.
11-03-2005, 03:31 PM
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SL500 2001 Formula 1 Edition;
Originally Posted by joe1388
There is nothing and I mean nothing in the automotive world that even comes close to the beauty and preformance of the 129. Thanks for the great write up. As a fellow addict of the beautiful BEAST I say amen, amen and amen.
I've never driven an R230, so I don't know about them. I'm thinking the 7 speed auto is going to be a big improvement. But . . . I've read their board, and they don't seem to be as nuts about their cars as we are. One thing is, any fool with money can have a nice NEW car. But to keep these babies on the road in such great shape takes money and hard work and dedication and true love.
Used to have a couple of BMW's, a 3 and a 5, and they were great, but NOT like this car. Mustang GT's and Cobras, not even close. Z28? Nope. Vettes, no way. Drove an Acura NSX once, and while it was a blast, it wasn't an R129. The newer MB Sedans are okay, but not the same as my baby. Porsches are great, but so much different in character. The older cars that were the roadsters of my teenage dreams, MG's, Fiat's, TR's and so forth, they were tin-can toys compared to the R129. ( I think they weighed about 1800 pounds). Jags were not even considered because they were considered over-priced and totally unreliable.
I've never been in a true exotic like a Lambo or Aston Martin or something. But I am thinking those are not so practical as an R129. (HA! Like any car with a $900 rearview mirror is "practical" HA HA! So, I just meant practical in the sense of comparing it to true exotics).
How about hearing from some people who have R230's, and true exotics, OR at least driven them a fair amount? How does the R129 experiance compare?
Maybe this should be a new thread?
Last edited by mebeJOE; 11-03-2005 at 03:36 PM.
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11-03-2005, 10:53 PM
#8
MBWorld Fanatic!
Originally Posted by mebeJOE
Is that true that nothing comes close to driving an R129????
I've never driven an R230, so I don't know about them. ...
How about hearing from some people who have R230's, and true exotics, OR at least driven them a fair amount? How does the R129 experiance compare?
Maybe this should be a new thread?
I've never driven an R230, so I don't know about them. ...
How about hearing from some people who have R230's, and true exotics, OR at least driven them a fair amount? How does the R129 experiance compare?
Maybe this should be a new thread?
I was left wondering why it did not blow me away.
It would be interesting to find out what your R230 driving impressions are. Take one out for a test drive and write your impressions to the forum.
R230 owners will not endorse the R129 that heavily since they are into their cars for various reasons.
11-04-2005, 06:59 PM
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SL500 2001 Formula 1 Edition;
Alright by me. Any R230 owners want to trade rides for the weekend? Hit me up. I'll write a good story if your car is cool. 
11-04-2005, 09:46 PM
#10
i posted a while ago that i test drove a 55 4 door, and it did not feel 1/2 as solid as a 129, even my 124(500) ffelt stronger than that. it is sad how mbz is not what it was.
i love the mongoose and everyones mongoose aswell.
i love the mongoose and everyones mongoose aswell.
11-28-2005, 10:15 PM
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SL600
mebeJoe, Very well written trip report--it really flows and paints a picture to which we can all probably relate.
On the R230.... About a year ago, I test drove an R230 600. The steering felt tighter (rack and pinion versus recirculating ball), and it was faster, but I am incredibly partial to the 129's stlye, look, and feel. The 129 always looked unique among the Benz line. In all honesty it would be easy for a non-Benz person to confuse the R230 with a CLK or even a C Class Hatchback. I don't plan on letting go of my R129 anytime soon.
On the R230.... About a year ago, I test drove an R230 600. The steering felt tighter (rack and pinion versus recirculating ball), and it was faster, but I am incredibly partial to the 129's stlye, look, and feel. The 129 always looked unique among the Benz line. In all honesty it would be easy for a non-Benz person to confuse the R230 with a CLK or even a C Class Hatchback. I don't plan on letting go of my R129 anytime soon.
