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Follow-Up Test: 2000 Mercedes-Benz CLK 430 Cabriolet
Transcendency
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By Liz Kim
Date posted: 01-01-1999
"Let me tell you about the very rich. They are different from you and me," wrote F. Scott Fitzgerald.
We concur. They can even buy good weather.
Along the coast of Southern California, we are subject to a peculiar meteorological condition known as "June Gloom," a dull gray marine layer that dwells overhead most of the morning, usually burning off by mid-afternoon to a typically 75-degree, sunny day.
However, you start to climb the serpentine roads of the Malibu mountains, and there, among the $5 million homes of movie stars and self-help gurus, the mist parts and you rise above the haze like some inhabitant of Mount Olympus. As the day wears on, the clouds below, quite a beautiful sight in themselves, part to reveal the shimmering blue waters of the Pacific. The air is crystalline, lacking that damp lugubriousness suffered by the plebian set down below.
The Mercedes-Benz CLK 430 Cabriolet fits right into this world. At a base price of $55,600 for a vehicle that could hardly be considered utilitarian, it would, without much opposition, be considered wholly in the realm of the rich. And, as is usually the case, money buys things that aren't accessible to the have-nots. For while conventional wisdom states that money can't buy happiness, it can cause a shift in perception that could cause illusions of bliss; the Mercedes momentarily suspends the act of driving as a task and transcends it to the level of pure joy.
The CLK is a thoroughbred Mercedes in the grandest tradition, with a typically Teutonic suspension that perfectly manages the significant weight of 3,665 pounds, virtually rendering body roll and wallow obsolete. Road surface is conveyed to the driver, but with no harshness. Slicing through tight corners poses no problems, with the hefty, precise steering, although one driver stated that it exhibited a "numbness that is less preferable to the telepathic communication offered by a BMW." The Electronic Stability Program (ESP) gently corrects deviant driving and applies brakes to the appropriate wheel to point you back on your course. The brakes, though one driver noted significant fade after a canyon run, were superbly calibrated and robust, yielding consistent stopping distances of 112 feet during 60-0 deceleration runs, the second best we've tested. Ever.
And the engine — oh, the engine. How can we describe the sense of utter contentment to be had when you're behind the wheel of such a beautiful machine? What words can describe the sheer pleasure of hitting 5,750 rpm and reining in the power of 275 horses from the 4.3-liter V8 engine pulsing under the hood? Is there a way to articulate the viscerally pleasing exhaust note, seducing you to rev the engine for pure entertainment value alone? And, finally, how did we voluntarily part with the keys to our beautiful black test vehicle?
The only way to do so was to passive-aggressively criticize the car for its flaws. The greatest is the deficiency of low-end grunt. Although 295 foot-pounds of torque will provide the scintillating knowledge that there is plenty more to be had — even at 100 mph you know that it will easily deliver more speed upon request — launching from a stoplight is rather belabored. While the five-speed automatic transmission will upshift promptly, it downshifts with a bit of hesitation. When we tried the TouchShift automanual feature, we found that at times, the shift didn't take quickly enough to keep us out of the rev limiter.
The interior bespeaks a subtle, esoteric quality. The black, burled wood in the dash looks like smudged fingerprints on glossy black plastic, which detracts from an upscale image. The stereo system, as usual, raised the usual ire about its complexity, although we noted that it seemed less Byzantine to control than in other Mercedes. The climate control could be simpler, and the switches exude a cheap tactile feel.
Rear accommodations can be pleasant or unpleasant, depending on the attitude of the passengers. Fun ones will love the wind in their hair and appreciate the level armrest that doubles as storage space. More dour ones will criticize having to scream over the strong gusts, complain that their coifs are becoming unraveled, and note the lack of cupholders and foot-room.
Rid yourself of these detractors by installing the wind blocker. The unwieldy, heavy component requires two people to install with any semblance of ease, and once mounted, the back seat is useless. For this reason, we were unable to test out its efficacy, for the car was either driven by a sole driver or filled with hangers-on.
The top took 23 seconds to open, 28.8 seconds to close. The opening mechanism, which requires a push of a button, a twist of a handle, and a thrust upward before the automatic operation initiates is simple enough once you figure it out, but it took more than one editor a riffle through the pages of the owner's manual. After the first time, though, it performed flawlessly, although we prefer the wholly automatic top of the SLK. But we were perplexed to find that the purported one-touch windows were not one-touch up, nor is there an all-window up function. Closing all four windows at once requires two hands around the shifter and a contorted torso, although holding down the lock button of the remote control once you're outside will also shut the buggers.
Once the top is up, the three-layers of material shield you from noise and weather, and the glass rear window with defroster will be appreciated. However, visibility is severely limited by the thick C-pillars. But who'd want to drive with the top up, anyway? Any incipient chill is cured by blasting the heater, and even in the stale, cold early hours, the optional heated seats keep buns toasty.
The wealthy have the privilege of living in gorgeous houses, waking up to breathtaking views, not fretting about a 20-cent increase in fuel and driving cars like the CLK 430. In our envy, we remind ourselves that those living in the hills of Malibu have to contend with mudslides, brushfires, earthquakes and the errant automotive journalist screaming her loaner car through their rarefied neighborhoods.
Hey, even the gods didn't have it perfect — they had to morph into animals to shack up with human babes.
See all the Ratings: 2000 Mercedes-Benz CLK-Class 2 Dr CLK430 Convertible Road Test Scoreboard
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