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• World-class sport-utility vehicles by any measure, G-wagens cloak off-road prowess beneath a deadpan veneer — until they are unleashed by competitive spirits who just love coming in first. Being from society's upper crust — movie stars, entrepreneurs, the Pope — those who travel in guh LIN de vahgens are achievers. That's why they can buy new, $120,000 sport-utility vehicles. And they expect their vehicles to be like themselves: the best. Still, G-wageneers do have something in common with commoners: Few ever use their SUVs' off-highway abilities. In defense of G-wagen owners, though, one can understand why, after paying a price bigger than many retirement accounts, they would be loathe to really see what a G can do. But in the rarefied company of this 4x4, some do risk bending their Benzes. They explore the world's superlatives — its great deserts, canyons and mountains — in a marque that is a superlative itself. • One August day some years ago, five G-wagens with a combined value exceeding $300,000 left the lot of the firm that was, at the time, the sole U.S. Gelaendewagen distributor, Europa International of Santa Fe, New Mexico. They would link up at Durango, Colorado, with a band of die-hard adventure motorists, the G Club of Germany, and explore some of the Colorado Rockies' most famous backcountry byways. The 1,500-member G Club had chartered a Lufthansa 747 jumbo jet to fly 18 vehicles, their owners and their families to Las Vegas, Nevada. There they began a three-week odyssey through the Southwest, mixing highways and rudimentary back roads. It was their first trek through the Lower 48. • For three days and 600 miles, a group of Europa employees, customers, friends and family members enjoyed Rocky Mountain splendor and driving challenges from the comfort and security of what some consider the world's best SUV. The group was assembled by Europa president Dave Holland, who had helped the G Club plan its itinerary. The G-wagen lineup reflected the evolution from utilitarian models from the '80s to a new 1995 G320 with leather and a four-speed automatic. One couple, Richard and Michele Martinez of Santa Fe, drove their blue 1990 two-door 300GE, the fifth G-wagen they've owned. The Martinezes have long been avid off-highway travelers: "If you don't go off-road," Rich explained, "you really don't see what there is to see in the United States." • The late-model G-wagens cruised in hushed Benz style as we followed U.S. 285 across the tawny high desert north of old Santa Fe. Before long we were soaring through the sylvan Tusas Mountains on State Highway 64. We crossed the Continental Divide, and meandered through the pastoral Jicarilla Apache and Southern Ute Indian Reservations, following the dirt and gravel bed of the defunct Denver & Rio Grande Western Railroad.
In the morning we met the G Club, camped outside of town. Forty-five men, women and children had come to America with the club. Some of their vehicles appeared factory stock, which says a lot: full-time 4wd and push-button center, front and rear differential locks for superb traction on the most villainous terrain. Some were loaded with expedition gear and rooftop tents. But our visit was short, for sky-scraping passes, cascading waterfalls, silent ruins and off-road challenges awaited.
• Mechanical problems developed on the way up. The brakes on the 1991 300GE had difficulty holding the 2.5-ton vehicle on a steep uphill grade. Holland vowed the problem would be fixed. The same vehicle overheated as we climbed. Throwing snow onto the radiator got us to the top. (The final solution: replacing the radiator cap.) Later, the two-door would have problems getting into low gear, which also was apparently easily fixed.
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All content © 2007 Tony Huegel. Permission to reproduce is denied without written consent. |