In the last five years, there have been just two gonzo wagons sold in the USA. As a used wagon shopper that limits my searches to the Mercedes Benz E63S and the Cadillac CTS-V. Today on deck is the E63.
The salesman swears that this E63 was literally driven by a little old lady from Pasadena…or Glendale. It’s hard to believe such a thing from a used car salesman, but the condition and low miles—just 6,000 miles in three years!—of the car suggest the story is plausible. The wagon is incredibly fresh and clean all around, looking handsome in its matte white paint. The black interior is finished with some of the most supple leather I’ve ever felt.
I’m shopping for wagons because I want a do-it-all for the family. What separates the E63 and CTS-V from all the other sporty cars on sale is their ability to haul the goods. Thus, a trunk inspection is first and foremost.
The E63 wagon’s trunk is the largest I’ve seen in any vehicle behind the rear seats. While just an inch or two too shallow to swallow our immense beach umbrella fore-to-aft, the behemoth Tommy Bahama fits side-to-side. My benchmark 25” Travelpro suitcase slides deep into the trunk, and I find ample room between it and the tailgate. Four of these 25” bags would fit easy-breezy with space left over for a carry-on or two.
Some cars hide a spare tire or some underfloor storage beneath the trunk carpet. This is not so in the E63 wagon. All the room for packing is above the floor.
On the rear bench, I centrally place my two-year-old daughter’s car seat. The remaining room is generous: My wife and I comfortably settle into the outboard seats. We would be happy here on a long journey. No need to rent a second car when the in-laws come to visit! I’m relieved to discover such capacity in a car; I’d been starting to worry that only SUVs could perform such a feat. The rear legroom in the E63 is generous too, so even tall Grandpa can fit.
Of course, what I am really here for is the driver’s seat. At first, it feels too wide, but the slack is tightened when the salesman points out the switch for the adjustable torso bolstering. He also points out the in-seat massage button. Soon, what feels to be a rolling pin is moving up and down on my lower back. It’s distracting, so I turn it off.
Family and salesman buckled up, I push the start button and am greeted with a surprisingly loud blech from the 5.5 liter bi-turbo V8. The E63 is in “Eco” mode, yet nevertheless, it sounds like Homer Simpson expressing his satisfaction after a can of Duff beer. Has AMG no shame? (Is the E63S wagon louder than the sedan?) It’s giggle-making for me, but I do wonder how my wife will cope with the sound.
After carefully—diagonally—exiting the dealership’s driveway, I reacquaint myself with the experience of an E63 in motion. The wheel in my hands is first on my mind. Its resistance is heavy, and its ratio is less immediate than my M3’s. Through it, I am feeling a large and weighty vehicle. To my disappointment, very little road feel comes through the Alcantara trimmed rim. I find myself wanting the talkative steering of the CTS-V wagon. The E63S’s suspension isn’t oozing with seat feel either, but the air-ride finds a good balance between body control and comfort over the broken concrete-slab pavement. The AMG treatment has not tainted the E63’s luxury cruiser credentials.
The paddles for the automatic transmission are right at my fingertips. Unfortunately, the immediate shifts of a BMW M-DCT or Alfa Romeo ZF 8-speed are not found here. The Mercedes upshifts and downshifts with a half beat’s delay. (Did the Cadillac CTS-V deliver better shifts? I think it did.) There is no manual transmission for the E63 to remedy this demerit, but the quality of the automatic would not prevent me from purchasing an E63. The shift behavior seems sufficiently predictable and prompt that an owner could adapt and become accustomed to the response.
Of the two pedals available to my right foot, I dare say the brake impresses the most. I’m won over by its heavy and firm feel and by the fact that it allows just enough travel to let you modulate it with the depth of the throw rather than just the pressure on the pedal. And the way the wagon reacts when those wonderful brakes are deployed convinces me that some of the finest Brembo croissants are drawing us to a stop. You have to look to race cars to find brakes as reassuring as these elsewhere in automotive-dom.
The gas pedal isn’t a disappointment, but it seems tuned in support of relaxed cruising. The E63 won’t bite without a purposeful prod. I suppose that highly reactive throttle would be to Mercedes’ detriment: It would not do the company any good to send little old ladies in their 570 hp wagons through storefront windows. As released from the factory, timid owners can drive the E63 smoothly and lazily, and the potency of the bi-turbo V8 will never be known.
Nix that. If you have ears, you’ll know a monster is under the hood. The hopped-up engine never quiets, and if you think it is loud in the front seats, just know that your rear-seat passengers are enjoying 25% more volume.
So is your humble author a timid driver? With my car-sick-prone daughter riding in the back seat, yes. I do not feel any inclination to test the dynamic envelope of the E63. No hard cornering is attempted, and the only brisk acceleration is a 75%-throttle blitz up a freeway onramp. (The E63 shows great capacity in clearing traffic in this little excursion.) You wouldn’t be tempted to tease the princess of projectile-vomiting either, especially given that the E63 has perforated leather seats.
On the highway, the E63 rides well. Though it frays my nerves to try it, the adaptive cruise control appears to work as advertised. The wagon speeds up and slows to follow the car ahead at a fixed distance. The only hiccup is when I change lanes, and the system sees the gap between traffic as I cross the dotted line and begins to accelerate.
My wife drives the E63, too, taking it out and back for a short five blocks. She appreciates the steering’s weight—it’s not “broken” like the strangely light Audi Q5’s—the engine’s grunt, and the thought that I’d be happy in a car as sporty as the E63S.
The test drive is over. As I wait for the salesman to extract our next test vehicle—a Mercedes-AMG GLC 43—I mentally walk the E63 wagon through my personal car shopping checklist and inadvertently end up comparing it to the CTS-V wagon:
- Ample cargo capacity in support of Christmas journeys across the state? Yes.
- Rear seating for two adults and a mid-mounted child seat? Yes. (The CTS-V might fail here.)
- Incredible seat and steering feel and road feedback? No. (The CTS-V did better here.)
- A sports suspension for driving pleasure? Yes.
- An engine with a naughty note and forceful delivery? Yes, and yes.
- Modern luxury features like adaptive cruise control and massage seats? Yes, and yes.
- Acceptable fuel economy? Yes. (Well, it’s better than the M3.)
- A crisp paddle-shift automatic to please my wife and me? Sort of.
- A dealership network with an interesting fleet of loaner cars? Yes.
By the scorecard, I should be over the moon with the E63 wagon. The E63 bests the CTS-V in space, pace, sound, fuel economy, and luxury amenities and will grace me with a nicer dealership experience for the frequent maintenance this Mercedes is sure to require. But the E63 wagon drives larger and heavier than the CTS-V wagon and distances me from the rich road feedback I love. Thus it is still the CTS-V wagon for which my heartthrobs, even though the Cadillac makes me feel guilty on account of its fuel thirst and limited cabin room. Oh, what car should I pick? Which one would you take?
Mike's Steering Column 