Mechatronik Mercedes-Benz M-Coupé

**basti08** · July 30th, 2012 06:09 PM

Mechatronik Mercedes-Benz M-Coupé: 1970 280SE 3.5 Meets Modern AMG V8

Old Gold: Doctor Frankenstein's Mercedes-Benz is alive!

The Mechatronik M-Coupé serves as transportation in the same sense that a Gothic cathedral shelters you from rain. Virtually unknown in America, Mechatronik is a German company founded in 1997. It might be a fraction of the age of the Benzes it rebuilds and restores, but the quality of Mechatronik’s work is such that its list of clients includes Mercedes-Benz’s own classic center in Fellbach, Germany. Part of the business is restoring old Mercedes-Benzes to showroom condition, but in the grand German tradition of Vic Frankenstein, Mechatronik also dabbles in monster making. What at first appear to be mild-mannered old Swabians are really reanimations, with modern AMG engines for hearts.

Mechatronik calls this particular creation the M-Coupé. It began life in 1970 as a 280SE 3.5—today’s equivalent would be a CL550. Coupes such as the 280SE were built on what’s known as the W111 platform from 1961 until 1971. The big M-Coupé’s build quality is beyond what you’ll find in a modern car. Part of that is due to the meticulous restoration, but it also speaks to the goodness of old Mercs. If this car is in any way indicative of what it was like to buy a Benz in 1970, we now fully understand why Janis Joplin prayed for one. The doors close with an evocative ka-thunk. With all the warmth and depth of a vinyl LP, it’s a welcome sound from another era. Every part, however minor, seems to have been designed and built to endure forever. You get the sense that this car will outlive your grandchildren’s grandchildren. permanence like this knocks you on your ass—who builds stuff to last anymore?—and, thanks to Mechatronik, so will the performance.

Behind the chrome-covered tombstone grille is the naturally aspirated 354-hp, 5.4- liter V-8 from a previous-generation S55 AMG. The engine and the five-speed automatic fit so perfectly that, if you didn’t know better, you’d suspect the car left the factory that way. There are no extraneous wires, no suspect parts, nothing out of place—it all looks as if it were assembled in Stuttgart. It’s odd to mention originality when discussing a restomod, but it’s actually possible to return the car to its original spec: Mechatronik mounts the new powertrain without drilling or cutting into metal.

The Mechatronik M-Coupé serves as transportation in the same sense that a Gothic cathedral shelters you from rain. Virtually unknown in America, Mechatronik is a German company founded in 1997. It might be a fraction of the age of the Benzes it rebuilds and restores, but the quality of Mechatronik’s work is such that its list of clients includes Mercedes-Benz’s own classic center in Fellbach, Germany. Part of the business is restoring old Mercedes-Benzes to showroom condition, but in the grand German tradition of Vic Frankenstein, Mechatronik also dabbles in monster making. What at first appear to be mild-mannered old Swabians are really reanimations, with modern AMG engines for hearts.

Mechatronik calls this particular creation the M-Coupé. It began life in 1970 as a 280SE 3.5—today’s equivalent would be a CL550. Coupes such as the 280SE were built on what’s known as the W111 platform from 1961 until 1971. The big M-Coupé’s build quality is beyond what you’ll find in a modern car. Part of that is due to the meticulous restoration, but it also speaks to the goodness of old Mercs. If this car is in any way indicative of what it was like to buy a Benz in 1970, we now fully understand why Janis Joplin prayed for one. The doors close with an evocative ka-thunk. With all the warmth and depth of a vinyl LP, it’s a welcome sound from another era. Every part, however minor, seems to have been designed and built to endure forever. You get the sense that this car will outlive your grandchildren’s grandchildren. permanence like this knocks you on your ass—who builds stuff to last anymore?—and, thanks to Mechatronik, so will the performance.

It’s like a castle with a modern home-entertainment system, and it costs almost as much. The elegant thin-rimmed steering wheel speaks of graceful motoring; the 354-hp AMG engine brings modern thrust and cleaner tailpipe emissions.
Behind the chrome-covered tombstone grille is the naturally aspirated 354-hp, 5.4- liter V-8 from a previous-generation S55 AMG. The engine and the five-speed automatic fit so perfectly that, if you didn’t know better, you’d suspect the car left the factory that way. There are no extraneous wires, no suspect parts, nothing out of place—it all looks as if it were assembled in Stuttgart. It’s odd to mention originality when discussing a restomod, but it’s actually possible to return the car to its original spec: Mechatronik mounts the new powertrain without drilling or cutting into metal.

We doubt anyone will ever put the old V-8 back into this car; there’s just no reason to. The AMG V-8, complete with modern emissions controls, starts at the first key twist; it doesn’t smoke and it doesn’t fill the cabin with unburned hydrocarbons. Drive it like a ’70 Benz, and the engine doesn’t shout; all that comes through is the coupe’s vintage goodness. A custom exhaust keeps the engine humming quietly unless you stand on the throttle, at which point all Aufrect, Melcher, and Grossaspach break loose, sending your body deep into the horsehair-filled leather mitts that pass for seats. In our hands, the Mechatronik car smacked 60 mph in 4.9 seconds and continued on through the quarter-mile in 13.6 seconds at 105 mph. Nothing with this many Gothic architectural cues should move this quickly. It’s as silly, absurd, and unlikely as that cliché involving winged swine.

And yet, the flying Benz is no pig. At 3689 pounds, it’s relatively light by modern Mercedes standards. Mechatronik outfits the restored chassis components with custom Eibach springs and dampers that lower the ride height. Fat Continental ContiPremium Contact 2 tires (size: 225/60R-15) mount on 15-inch reproductions of Mercedes’ classic 14-inch aluminum wheels. Behind the larger alloys are brakes donated by another Mercedes coupe, the 560SEC of the late 1980s. With the ABS pulsing the whole way, the coupe stopped consistently from 70 mph in 175 feet. On the skidpad, it managed 0.78 g. The stiffer setup does eliminate the gentle float of old Benzes, though. If we were commissioning one, we might sacrifice some of the lowered stance for more suspension compliance. This example exhibited too much impact harshness, which sent the occasional quiver through the decades-old structure and thin-rimmed steering wheel.

**basti08** · July 30th, 2012 06:10 PM

We were a bit surprised that the wheel transmitted any information at all. Most recirculating-ball setups of the past suffer from on-center slop and oxycodone-dull response; this steering is wide awake and accurate. Before stringent crash and roll-over standards, cars had vast, clear views out. Here, you look past the steering wheel and delicate pillars, beyond the upright windshield and low cowl, to a sweeping hood bordered by pontoon-like fenders. It seems appropriate that the expanse in front of you ends in a three-pointed exclamation.

And yet, the flying Benz is no pig. At 3689 pounds, it’s relatively light by modern Mercedes standards. Mechatronik outfits the restored chassis components with custom Eibach springs and dampers that lower the ride height. Fat Continental ContiPremium Contact 2 tires (size: 225/60R-15) mount on 15-inch reproductions of Mercedes’ classic 14-inch aluminum wheels. Behind the larger alloys are brakes donated by another Mercedes coupe, the 560SEC of the late 1980s. With the ABS pulsing the whole way, the coupe stopped consistently from 70 mph in 175 feet. On the skidpad, it managed 0.78 g. The stiffer setup does eliminate the gentle float of old Benzes, though. If we were commissioning one, we might sacrifice some of the lowered stance for more suspension compliance. This example exhibited too much impact harshness, which sent the occasional quiver through the decades-old structure and thin-rimmed steering wheel.

We were a bit surprised that the wheel transmitted any information at all. Most recirculating-ball setups of the past suffer from on-center slop and oxycodone-dull response; this steering is wide awake and accurate. Before stringent crash and roll-over standards, cars had vast, clear views out. Here, you look past the steering wheel and delicate pillars, beyond the upright windshield and low cowl, to a sweeping hood bordered by pontoon-like fenders. It seems appropriate that the expanse in front of you ends in a three-pointed exclamation.

Inside, there are more greatest hits from the ’70s. As in the engine compartment, the interior has been touched by modernity, but it will fool you at first glance. The Becker Mexico radio, for instance, looks vintage but is actually a modern unit with navigation. The ignition key is a modern Mercedes switchblade type, and there are warning lights for the ABS and traction control. The rest is old school: The Behr air conditioner whispers out cold air; the heater and fresh-air controls are incomprehensible; the tach needle waves and wags lazily in response to the increasing and decreasing revs; the seats are uncomfortably flat; and the electric windows and sunroof open and close slowly, giving you time to recall the era when “power everything” was a relative term. The longer you sit inside, the more you appreciate that every component is factory correct, and it all looks and smells factory fresh.

A 42-year-old machine with a new-car aroma doesn’t come cheap. Mechatronik’s cost-is-no-object approach and obsessive attention to detail lead to a price tag higher than that on any current Mercedes-Benz. Mechatronik’s U.S. importer estimates that recreating our test car would likely cost $400,000. Just the AMG engine conversion starts at about $125,000. Restoration prices open at roughly $40,000 and can double or triple depending on the amount of work needed or desired—our sample’s restoration went beyond $100,000. The cost of the original car, the wheels, the suspension components, and the rest of the ancillaries brings the total to four-hundred thou. The company doesn’t expect the M-Coupé to be its bestseller; it’s more of a moonshot, with all of the original car’s optimism and glamour. So it’s not exactly affordable, but neither are small cathedrals.