P.054 / JULY 2015 / the 1950s THE SLOW, clockWISE CHURN Lancias, such that car collectors worldwide still mine the region for rust-free examples. OF THE NORTH PACIFIC GYRE IS While Robert “Pete” Petersen tramped WHAT GIVES LOS ANGELES around to the many local drag strips hock- ing the frst 25-cent issues of Hot Rod, ITS FAMOUSLY FINE CLIMATe, capturing a movement and launching a publishing empire, John R. Bond at Road & producing as it does the two dominant weather patterns that the Track capitalized on the burgeoning import bored meteorologists here just call onshore and ofshore. The and road-racing scene. In Washington, onshore winds wafting in from the chilly waters of the Santa D.C., our predecessor, Sports Cars Illus- Monica Bay bring the morning fogs, the afternoon breezes, and the trated, fred up in 1955 to do the same, moderate temperatures that make this otherwise arid basin an breathlessly reporting from a distance on alluring paradise. The less frequent ofshore winds, called the the bespoke, the boutique, and the bour- Santa Anas, are boiling swelters caused by vast high-pressure zones geois foreigners that were routine sights over Nevada that blow the searing heat out of the interior, rushing along Wilshire Boulevard. it through the mountain passes in a dusty, fre-fanning roar. Nine 45-foot-high white letters near Onshore and ofshore, exhale and inhale; the Pacifc Ocean Cahuenga Peak in the Santa Monica Moun- breathes and L.A.’s towering fan palms sway accordingly, heedless tains efectively mark the spot where it all of the people below hustling for their fortunes. began. You exit the crawling Hollywood ABOVE: THE GT S The nascent movie industry discovered Los Angeles about a MANAG E S T O Freeway at Gower north of downtown, EVOKE T HE 300SL turn right on Franklin Avenue, and hang a century ago, and a money spigot opened to pour wealth into the WIT HOUT pockets of professional extroverts. Tracing the tracks of the pio- RES ORT ING T O left into Beachwood Canyon, over which OVERT RET RO-IS M the Hollywood sign looms. Once you pass neers, the Duesenbergs and Delahayes and Stutzes and Marmons OR UNNECES S A R Y came across the continent by rail. After World War II, it was Jag- G ULLWING DOORS . through the old stone Hollywoodland uars, Maseratis, Porsches, and Pegasos. Enzo Ferrari did so well in gates, you’re suddenly back in time. California that he christened a model after the state. Likewise, for /// Before we can do that, though, I have to some who had spent their days riveting up Starfghters and Con- learn how to start a ’55 Mercedes-Benz stellations and DC-8s, it was hard to go home in a Chevy. Angelinos 300SL Gullwing. Pull the knob activating allergic to convention embraced lesser rarities such as Citroëns and the secondary electric fuel pump, push the starter key in and twist, wait for the 3.0- liter overhead-cam six to spit sonorous fame, and then shut the electric pump of so the primary mechanical pump can do its CARANDDRIVER.COM / P.055 duty. Inhale, exhale; this is going to be a good day in Los Angeles. Whether you call it the 300SL, the W198, or its German nickname, der Flügeltüren, the Gullwing represents a maniacal sword beaten into an exquisite plowshare. Daim- ler-Benz spent the war making direct- injection V-12s, mounted upside down per ­L u f t w a f e design spec to reduce frontal area and give Messerschmitt pilots better visibil- ity. When the time came to at last revive the Mercedes-Benz racing program in mid-1951, the company poured its knowledge into the W194, a racing coupe with an aircraft-style tube-frame chassis; aircraft-style doors hinged at the roof; and a dry-sump, carbu- reted, single-cam 3.0-liter six-cylinder. Engineers dubbed the engine “Schräger THE ROUGHLY 6 0 -Y E A R - O L D Otto” or Sloping Otto, because, as if to prove G U L L W I N G Daimler could still mount engines any which SOMEHOW LOOKS MORE RADICAL way, it leaned 50 degrees to the left to lower AND FUTURISTIC the hoodline. The W194 chased glory for the THAN THE G T S . silver star at Le Mans; in the 1952 Carrera Panamericana in Mexico where co-driver /// and navigator Hans Klenk got smacked in the face by a buzzard; and anywhere else that Mercedes could show that it was back. History abounds with ironies, and one of them is Maximilian E. Hofman, a Vienna-born Jew and car dealer who escaped Europe just as the darkness descended. By 1953, he had enough clout as the U.S. Mercedes-Benz importer to convince the company’s board that roadgoing versions of the W194 racer would be the path to American success. On February 6, 1954, the new 300SL coupe, the P.056 / JULY 2015 / the 1950s CARANDDRIVER.COM W198, landed on New York City’s Interna- tional Motor Sports Show like something out of The Airlords of Han. Mercedes-Benz was on its way to New World fame thanks to an Austrian refugee who would eventu- ally distribute cars to 475 Mercedes dealer- ships across the country. The Gullwing and this magazine have a special relationship besides sharing an of- cial birth year of 1955. While stationed in Germany as an Army Signal Corps radio repairman in 1958, our most senior alum- nus, Karl Ludvigsen, traded his Renault Dauphine for a used 300SL that had placed seventh in the 1956 Mille Miglia. Tour over, Ludvigsen shipped the car home, using it to drive across the country and as a daily commuter in New York City while editing this magazine. A BOVE: R U D G E while Eckberg is needed elsewhere; his old WHEELS ARE Six decades later, Craig Eckberg is the kind of classic-car guy we THE BUSINESS. friend, Ron Johnson, a Gullwing owner all think everyone should be. He believes that cars are outdoor B ELOW: T H E M O S T himself who volunteers to assist, joins us in DISTORTION-FREE products to be used out of doors. Since buying his 1955 300SL at PIECE OF GLASS the new (and air-conditioned) AMG GT S. auction back in 2000, immaculately restored and complete with an ON THIS PLANET. Everybody seated exactly where they want original set of Rudge knockof wheels, he’s put on more than to be, we purr out of Eckberg’s driveway 50,000 miles running road rallies such as the Colorado Grand. The /// and into the California sunshine, the front end of his Gullwing is lightly sprayed with stone chips, and Pacifc exhaling a cool, damp zephyr. the oatmeal-colored leather seats have the inviting patina of Gott- Through the decades, Mercedes’ inter- lieb Daimler’s reading chair. So, in other words, the car is perfect. est in sporty cars has waxed and waned. It I had gently asked Eckberg for a short drive, fguring a couple teased the public with mid-engined con- miles of chaperoned Gullwing time would be enough for this story. cepts and built the hyper-homologation What I get is 10 hours solo behind the wheel, crisscrossing L.A. special, the CLK GTR of 1998–1999, but CARANDDRIVER.COM / P.057P.057 ultimately it never abandoned the front- engine grand-touring format that began with the W198. In 2010, Benz produced the gullwing-door SLS AMG, a tribute to the original 300SL but with contemporary— meaning outlandish—proportions. This year, with the aging and almost-dead SLS now starting at $224,605, Mercedes released a sort of second draft, the twin- turbocharged AMG GT. It is slightly more humble with its conventional doors, def- nitely more handsome, and a heck of a lot cheaper. The hottest 503-hp S version starts at $130,825. Some bill the new AMG GT as Benz’s Porsche 911 fghter, but it’s not a role the car seems to relish. Still overtly large, it’s a fast, menacing machine, but one that puts its best attributes forward when left in com- fort mode. In other words, when it’s behav- ing more like the glorious 300SL. Such a relaxed automobile is the SL, such an unfappable sweetheart. With the son of Sloping Otto snoring out smooth, thick torque enriched by Bosch mechanical direct fuel injection, the Gullwing moves with a surprisingly modern swiftness when you get on it. Eckberg’s has the optional 3.25:1 fnal-drive ratio, the tallest originally available, giving this sports car legs as long as the Rhine. Three fngers of a relaxed hand move the shifter through four gears, and then it’s another endless run to the 6400-rpm redline. At 75 mph, the tach touches 2800 rpm. With its 34-gallon tank flled, we could probably make the Pyre- nees by nightfall. The SL’s designers put the car’s lattice- work structure to the outside, forcing the seats together between two wide runs of triangulated framing. The gullwing doors were thus a necessity, as conventional doors wouldn’t work on a coupe with this design. The extra-wide and its ads for Austin-Healeys. Oil rigs, sills have long served as park benches for winded drivers and fum- lima-bean felds, and citrus groves stood moxed mechanics, but there’s no easy way in. My technique: Stick /// where many million-dollar houses do the right leg in, twist, drop, and then pull in the left.