An E63 Story
08-03-2011, 05:25 PM
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An E63 Story
Hi everyone,
I just joined to share this write-up and hopefully gain some insightful knowledge about these cars. I wrote the story/review a few weeks ago after having the immense privilege of driving a '10 E63. It completely changed how I view mercedes, amg, paddle shift transmissions, and high performance sedans. I'm 18 and take any opportunity I can to experience cars like this, but this car really shocked me. In a good way
Spencer
“Are you sure my car’s safe here? It’s parked next to this really sketchy pickup…”
I thought it was a perfectly acceptable question to ask given my friend was asking me to leave my prized possession parked on a little gravel pullout next to the freeway onramp, far from anyone’s line of sight.
“Yeah dude it’s fine. I leave mine there all the time.”
All right. If Andrew’s new A4 hadn’t gotten nicked, or even keyed yet, I suppose it was a safe enough parking place for my ’89 535i.
I was here to accompany him on what would soon become be the best joyride of my life to date. It was in a 2010 Mercedes E63 AMG, a car that I frankly wasn’t that fond of. But I was judging it on looks, and everyone knows that never works. It seemed too held back and constrained compared to AMG’s of past; at first I even had trouble discerning it from the lowly, peasant-like base model E-classes. Thank god that’s the only place they held back.
The car came into sight as Andrew descended the hill before the onramp and pulled into the gravel pullout, just long enough for me to jump into the passenger seat. The car was Palladium Silver Metallic with black leather and wood throughout. Inside, quality of finish was something only the Germans could pull off. It was an exceptionally comfortable nice place to be. Nice, but cold. As with all E-Amg’s the somewhat bulky 4-spoke steering wheel seemed a little out of place. Must be to add to the understated character. The new car smell permeated everything except our bodies. And it was quiet. I was hoping that would change.
We pulled out and set off via US 101-S, taking the first exit for Tiburon. It took all of 10 seconds for me to realize how much I had underestimated the car. It pulled hard from any RPM to the point where I could feel my back compressing into the seat, leaving a perfect mold of my spinal cord on the leather. The needle hadn’t even reached the halfway point on the tach but it was clear something powerful and dark was lurking under the hood. And then the noise came. It sounded like the car had bit off its own rear mufflers, outraged with the modest sheet metal it had been given. It rumbled deeply until about 2 thousand RPM’s, snarled up to 3 and a half, and then gave the most intimidating predatory roar I have ever heard from a production car, all the way up to the redline. There was absolutely nothing understated or defensive about the way it leapt from gear to gear. When it shifted, it did so like it was taking a quick breath, preparing for its next assault on the gearbox with a bubbly overrun that exclaimed it was not done chugging fuel, even if the car’s computer was. It spat out gears with no sympathy, lining them up one after another like a row of carcasses in a slaughterhouse, waiting for their turn with the meat cleaver. The world’s most powerful naturally aspirated eight cylinder production engine demonstrated razor sharp response; the sort of responsiveness I thought was only available from motorcycles and racecars. It didn’t get along with the rest of the car. “I’m not waiting for you.”
Nothing in this car could keep up with the 6.3 liter V8, although the 7-speed AMG Speedshift MCT transmission was anything but slow. It completely reversed my opinion of “flappy paddle” gearboxes. My friends remind me all to often of how conservative I tend to be with regard to automotive technology. Let me give you an example: Straight sixes should always be naturally aspirated. Anything under six cylinders and 2.5 liters is not worth driving, old cars being the exception. And never, under any exception, should a “driver’s car” come with less than three pedals. Don’t get me wrong. Paddles are better than nothing, especially in a car whose manufacturer has refused to offer a single manual transmission for the majority of my lifetime, but without a clutch pedal there’s still a computer between you and the gearbox. That’s just not right. Or rather, it wasn’t until I drove the e63.
If you want a big comfortable sedan, and a sports car, and a new lounge with a killer sound system and lots of leather, then you buy a BMW M5, Audi S6, or Merc e63 from the AMG boys. So there, you’ve got what you asked for. Only thing is, it’s not a sports car if it has a lazy automatic transmission with a mind of its own, and it’s not really a comfortable, carefree lounge if you have to think about having your foot on and off the clutch pedal in rush hour traffic or climbing the hills of San Francisco. Enter the third way: Paddle shifters. Be aware, there are imposters; automatic transmissions with torque converters (think of Satan and you’re on the right track) with two plastic paddles tacked onto the steering wheel with some Elmer’s. They shift slowly and vaguely and are as responsive as an inchworm. Real transmissions have no torque converter and are therefore much more satisfying to operate; you feel like you’re changing the gears yourself instead of telling a computer what to do. The AMG Speedshift MCT 7-speed gearbox can only be described as phenomenal. The multi-disk wet start-up clutch unit whips off gear changes in 100-milliseconds. If you can shift that quickly using a conventional stick, scientists will want to genetically clone your right arm and left leg for military technology purposes. Paddle shift transmissions can shift quicker than we can, and it’s largely responsible for the e63’s blisteringly quick 0-60 time of 4.4 seconds. But I haven’t reached the best part of these transmissions yet. When driving a car with AMG’s 518 hp V8 and seven speeds, you whip through gears quicker than you have time to watch the tach climb to the redline, even when you have 7,000 rpm’s at your disposal. Having to pause and shift a gear with a stick would take ages compared to the amount of time it takes to climb through first, second, and third. It would be the limiting factor in the car’s acceleration by a long shot. Car’s this fast just wouldn’t be as impressive with a stick. It’s moving like this compared to movi…ng like…this.
The car will stun you in a straight line, in whichever of the five seats you happen to find yourself in. Hell, it’d probably impress you splayed out in the trunk. But great cars don’t stop impressing once they find a corner, and the e63 is no exception. To be honest, I have a bit of a niche-taste in cars. I like big sedans, and even some SUV’s, that come straight for the factory with more performance than should be legal. I like racing tanks; the ones with the heavy doors that go “choonk” when you close them, and the suspension that makes the same noise. I like the feeling you get when you hit a bump in the road and have the uplifting suspicion that you’ve just flattened it for your fellow motorists. Cars that feel like they have mass and substance to them, yet can defy their weight through twisty bits of road. In the words of James May, I think I’ll select the firm massage for this race.
Once we cleared the freeway and dove into the semi-deserted stretch of tarmac that is known as China Camp, the car started to show its more sophisticated side to all the raw horsepower. Turn in was crisp, although the featherweight steering was more willing than the fat tires. It gripped fantastically throughout the bends, and power coming out of them was superb as always. The brakes were sensitive, aggressive, and for the hour or so that we were driving, fade free. They absolutely needed to be with that V8. To the bicyclist that I passed a bit closer than I should have: genuinely sorry and hope your hearing is fine. To the other bicyclist who gave us the finger: that downshift was for you buddy.
To sum it up: it’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Actually, it’s more of a Grizzly, given the way it sounds. The award for most unbelievably exciting car I’ve ever driven goes to the Mercedes e65 AMG. Typo. I meant e63, but imagine what this thing would be like with AMG’s twin turbo V12…
I just joined to share this write-up and hopefully gain some insightful knowledge about these cars. I wrote the story/review a few weeks ago after having the immense privilege of driving a '10 E63. It completely changed how I view mercedes, amg, paddle shift transmissions, and high performance sedans. I'm 18 and take any opportunity I can to experience cars like this, but this car really shocked me. In a good way
Spencer
“Are you sure my car’s safe here? It’s parked next to this really sketchy pickup…”
I thought it was a perfectly acceptable question to ask given my friend was asking me to leave my prized possession parked on a little gravel pullout next to the freeway onramp, far from anyone’s line of sight.
“Yeah dude it’s fine. I leave mine there all the time.”
All right. If Andrew’s new A4 hadn’t gotten nicked, or even keyed yet, I suppose it was a safe enough parking place for my ’89 535i.
I was here to accompany him on what would soon become be the best joyride of my life to date. It was in a 2010 Mercedes E63 AMG, a car that I frankly wasn’t that fond of. But I was judging it on looks, and everyone knows that never works. It seemed too held back and constrained compared to AMG’s of past; at first I even had trouble discerning it from the lowly, peasant-like base model E-classes. Thank god that’s the only place they held back.
The car came into sight as Andrew descended the hill before the onramp and pulled into the gravel pullout, just long enough for me to jump into the passenger seat. The car was Palladium Silver Metallic with black leather and wood throughout. Inside, quality of finish was something only the Germans could pull off. It was an exceptionally comfortable nice place to be. Nice, but cold. As with all E-Amg’s the somewhat bulky 4-spoke steering wheel seemed a little out of place. Must be to add to the understated character. The new car smell permeated everything except our bodies. And it was quiet. I was hoping that would change.
We pulled out and set off via US 101-S, taking the first exit for Tiburon. It took all of 10 seconds for me to realize how much I had underestimated the car. It pulled hard from any RPM to the point where I could feel my back compressing into the seat, leaving a perfect mold of my spinal cord on the leather. The needle hadn’t even reached the halfway point on the tach but it was clear something powerful and dark was lurking under the hood. And then the noise came. It sounded like the car had bit off its own rear mufflers, outraged with the modest sheet metal it had been given. It rumbled deeply until about 2 thousand RPM’s, snarled up to 3 and a half, and then gave the most intimidating predatory roar I have ever heard from a production car, all the way up to the redline. There was absolutely nothing understated or defensive about the way it leapt from gear to gear. When it shifted, it did so like it was taking a quick breath, preparing for its next assault on the gearbox with a bubbly overrun that exclaimed it was not done chugging fuel, even if the car’s computer was. It spat out gears with no sympathy, lining them up one after another like a row of carcasses in a slaughterhouse, waiting for their turn with the meat cleaver. The world’s most powerful naturally aspirated eight cylinder production engine demonstrated razor sharp response; the sort of responsiveness I thought was only available from motorcycles and racecars. It didn’t get along with the rest of the car. “I’m not waiting for you.”
Nothing in this car could keep up with the 6.3 liter V8, although the 7-speed AMG Speedshift MCT transmission was anything but slow. It completely reversed my opinion of “flappy paddle” gearboxes. My friends remind me all to often of how conservative I tend to be with regard to automotive technology. Let me give you an example: Straight sixes should always be naturally aspirated. Anything under six cylinders and 2.5 liters is not worth driving, old cars being the exception. And never, under any exception, should a “driver’s car” come with less than three pedals. Don’t get me wrong. Paddles are better than nothing, especially in a car whose manufacturer has refused to offer a single manual transmission for the majority of my lifetime, but without a clutch pedal there’s still a computer between you and the gearbox. That’s just not right. Or rather, it wasn’t until I drove the e63.
If you want a big comfortable sedan, and a sports car, and a new lounge with a killer sound system and lots of leather, then you buy a BMW M5, Audi S6, or Merc e63 from the AMG boys. So there, you’ve got what you asked for. Only thing is, it’s not a sports car if it has a lazy automatic transmission with a mind of its own, and it’s not really a comfortable, carefree lounge if you have to think about having your foot on and off the clutch pedal in rush hour traffic or climbing the hills of San Francisco. Enter the third way: Paddle shifters. Be aware, there are imposters; automatic transmissions with torque converters (think of Satan and you’re on the right track) with two plastic paddles tacked onto the steering wheel with some Elmer’s. They shift slowly and vaguely and are as responsive as an inchworm. Real transmissions have no torque converter and are therefore much more satisfying to operate; you feel like you’re changing the gears yourself instead of telling a computer what to do. The AMG Speedshift MCT 7-speed gearbox can only be described as phenomenal. The multi-disk wet start-up clutch unit whips off gear changes in 100-milliseconds. If you can shift that quickly using a conventional stick, scientists will want to genetically clone your right arm and left leg for military technology purposes. Paddle shift transmissions can shift quicker than we can, and it’s largely responsible for the e63’s blisteringly quick 0-60 time of 4.4 seconds. But I haven’t reached the best part of these transmissions yet. When driving a car with AMG’s 518 hp V8 and seven speeds, you whip through gears quicker than you have time to watch the tach climb to the redline, even when you have 7,000 rpm’s at your disposal. Having to pause and shift a gear with a stick would take ages compared to the amount of time it takes to climb through first, second, and third. It would be the limiting factor in the car’s acceleration by a long shot. Car’s this fast just wouldn’t be as impressive with a stick. It’s moving like this compared to movi…ng like…this.
The car will stun you in a straight line, in whichever of the five seats you happen to find yourself in. Hell, it’d probably impress you splayed out in the trunk. But great cars don’t stop impressing once they find a corner, and the e63 is no exception. To be honest, I have a bit of a niche-taste in cars. I like big sedans, and even some SUV’s, that come straight for the factory with more performance than should be legal. I like racing tanks; the ones with the heavy doors that go “choonk” when you close them, and the suspension that makes the same noise. I like the feeling you get when you hit a bump in the road and have the uplifting suspicion that you’ve just flattened it for your fellow motorists. Cars that feel like they have mass and substance to them, yet can defy their weight through twisty bits of road. In the words of James May, I think I’ll select the firm massage for this race.
Once we cleared the freeway and dove into the semi-deserted stretch of tarmac that is known as China Camp, the car started to show its more sophisticated side to all the raw horsepower. Turn in was crisp, although the featherweight steering was more willing than the fat tires. It gripped fantastically throughout the bends, and power coming out of them was superb as always. The brakes were sensitive, aggressive, and for the hour or so that we were driving, fade free. They absolutely needed to be with that V8. To the bicyclist that I passed a bit closer than I should have: genuinely sorry and hope your hearing is fine. To the other bicyclist who gave us the finger: that downshift was for you buddy.
To sum it up: it’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Actually, it’s more of a Grizzly, given the way it sounds. The award for most unbelievably exciting car I’ve ever driven goes to the Mercedes e65 AMG. Typo. I meant e63, but imagine what this thing would be like with AMG’s twin turbo V12…
08-03-2011, 08:20 PM
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Sorry lost me at "peasant-like base model E-classes"... 
Wishin' I wasn't such a peasant... and could even afford the AMG...
Wishin' I wasn't such a peasant... and could even afford the AMG...
08-03-2011, 09:11 PM
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Porsche 991S, Cayenne S, 1972 BMW 3.0CS E9 Coupe
I'm going to assume the author has also never experienced a PDK or DCT.
btw, "whose manufacturer has refused to offer a single manual transmission for the majority of my lifetime" is only because you live currently live in the USA. But nonetheless, dual clutch trannys and their variations are here to stay in all marques. Any R+D funds in developing manual transmissions is no longer.
Anyway, glad to hear you had fun and enjoyed the ride. They are decent cars for a four door sedan. Maybe also try a C63 and CLK63 BS. Or the SL.
08-03-2011, 10:41 PM
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Pretty much lost me at this part: "And never, under any exception, should a “driver’s car” come with less than three pedals" and then kinda deteriorated with descriptions of transmissions. Maybe if I had read this 12-13 years ago.....
I'm going to assume the author has also never experienced a PDK or DCT.
btw, "whose manufacturer has refused to offer a single manual transmission for the majority of my lifetime" is only because you live currently live in the USA. But nonetheless, dual clutch trannys and their variations are here to stay in all marques. Any R+D funds in developing manual transmissions is no longer.
Anyway, glad to hear you had fun and enjoyed the ride. They are decent cars for a four door sedan. Maybe also try a C63 and CLK63 BS. Or the SL.
I'm going to assume the author has also never experienced a PDK or DCT.
btw, "whose manufacturer has refused to offer a single manual transmission for the majority of my lifetime" is only because you live currently live in the USA. But nonetheless, dual clutch trannys and their variations are here to stay in all marques. Any R+D funds in developing manual transmissions is no longer.
Anyway, glad to hear you had fun and enjoyed the ride. They are decent cars for a four door sedan. Maybe also try a C63 and CLK63 BS. Or the SL.
The "peasant-ness" was a joke
And as to the transmission comment - yes - pretend you had read this ten years ago and you're in my shoes. I'm 18, never had the opportunity to drive a PDK equipped car or similar new-age transmissions. I just wanted to share my experience.
08-04-2011, 01:19 PM
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, and plus 1
08-25-2011, 12:35 AM
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you're 18 and you consider $50K+ E350/550's as "lowly, peasant-like"... thanks for taking out your enormous silver spoon long enough to type your post...
08-25-2011, 07:49 AM
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LOL!!
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08-30-2011, 07:00 AM
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