ON A GULLWING AND A PRAYER

JON WALL conquers the collywobbles, straps himself into the awesome Mercedes-Benz SLS AMG and gets the ride of his life

IT ISN’T THE fastest car in the world – the Bugatti Veyron has an extra 100km/h in reserve, while even a stately four-door Bentley comes just couple of clicks short – but as the white Mercedes-Benz SLS AMG test car noses onto the forecourt of Central Plaza, I know for sure that I’m about to get up close and personal with the kind of automotive greatness that isn’t necessarily defined by outright superlatives.

This is the first time I’ve laid eyes on what’s almost certainly the most eagerly awaited supercar in years. And though I’ve gazed covetously at any number of photos since its unveiling at last year’s Frankfurt motor show – and like everyone who loves cars, I’m more than familiar with the 1954 300SL “gullwing” that serves as its inspiration – I’m still unprepared for just how long, low, wide and genuinely formidable the SLS looks.

In a fortunate coincidence, a red Ferrari California rolls onto the driveway just as I’m about to step in, and I’m struck by how curvaceously plump and feminine the Italian car appears next to the brutally purposeful Benz. For with its gaping front and side intakes, slats and cooling vents, massive wheels (19-inch at the front and 20 at the back), and those iconic doors that arc high above the cockpit from their rooftop hinges, the SLS broods menacingly at the kerb like a street fighter.

If I weren’t already excited and a touch apprehensive about climbing over the high carbon-fibre sill, reaching up to close the door and making myself comfortable behind the delightfully small steering wheel, the sound that erupts from beneath its bonnet as I brush the throttle pedal gets the adrenalin racing and sets the pit of my stomach seriously aflutter. For among its several accomplishments, the SLS makes what must be the most outrageously glorious racket of any car currently in production: a deep, growling rumble that instantaneously transforms into a furious bellow, as if threatening to hurl all lesser machines contemptuously to the roadside. Just as thrilling, the aural sensations continue even after I back off the accelerator, with a crackling cacophony on the overrun that barks, with a blat-blat-blat from the exhaust pipes, like a pair of heavy machine guns.

Although strictly a two-seater, the SLS is a big car, longer and wider than Mercedes’ current C-class saloon and just 20cm shorter than the E-class. Yet the cockpit, though not exactly cramped, feels like that of a much smaller automobile, an impression heightened by the narrow windows and the obvious absence of a glass-panel roof.

Presuming it’s possible for man and machine to morph into a single entity, that’s exactly the impression I get when snugly strapped in. Built on magnesium-alloy frames, the seats are superbly comfortable and wonderfully body-hugging, and with the tiny wheel and paddle shifters perfectly to hand, I can just about kid myself I’m at the controls of a racing car – albeit one that’s exquisitely turned out in red and black leather, carbon fibre and polished matte-finished metal. A stubby central shifter controls the gears, with a rotary switch to move between the four modes on the seven-speed, double-clutch transmission, and the electronic stability and engine start/stop buttons are conveniently at my fingertips (there’s no need to insert the key; just drop it into one of the console recesses).

Jab the starter, and the Merc’s, hand-built, 6.2-litre V8 (for some reason the badges say 6.3, even though it’s almost 100cc shy) bursts into raucous, burbling life, promising to unleash every single one of the 571 horses that are waiting patiently beneath the lengthy bonnet to be exercised. And though its output of almost 92bhp per litre is unusually potent for a normally aspirated production engine, what makes the SLS so incredibly quick is the high power-to-weight ratio that’s achieved through the largely aluminium spaceframe and body panels, and widespread use of carbon-fibre (including even the driveshaft).

Optimise the traction by selecting the transmission’s race-start function, wind up the engine and then release the brakes and the SLS will slingshot from a standstill to 100km/h in 3.8 seconds, a time that’s roughly equivalent to the Porsche Turbo’s. Yet so civilised, torquey (650Nm at 4,750rpm) and free-spinning is its big, high-performance engine that in fifth gear the Benz will also pull effortlessly and apparently endlessly from near-strolling speeds until reaching the barmier regions of three figures, where it finally runs out of steam just a smidgen short of 200mph (at 317km/h, to be exact).

If such an engagingly relaxed demeanour gives the impression that the SLS is more boulevardier than bolide, think again. For this is a seriously sharp, precise and agile machine in every respect – one that’s more than capable of seeing off just about everything it encounters and on any kind of road. And with its motor set well back behind the front wheels, the double-clutch transaxle at the rear and pukka, aluminium double-wishbone suspension all round, it’s as beautifully balanced as any classically mid-engined Lamborghini or Ferrari, and thus equally at home in the bends as on the straights.

Of course, it goes without saying that the grip and handling are sensational. But perhaps even more remarkable is the ride, which while not quite up there with the XJ or the S-class, is amazingly smooth and pliant for what is, after all, an unqualified road racer. And it’s in this rarefied zone where almost demented performance meets surprising levels of sophistication – and, I’d hazard a guess, almost unheard of levels of reliability in the notoriously temperamental firmament of supercars – that the SLS stakes its undisputable claim to pre-eminence.

For while there are few places in the world – and absolutely zero in Hong Kong – where one can unleash the SLS’s full potential (and in doing so, an unfortunate Swedish gentleman racing across Switzerland recently netted a US$1 million speeding fine), the point about this sensational car is that its quest for performance requires few sacrifices, excepting its HK$3.2 million price tag. It’s a wonderfully rounded and capable machine, it’s an absolute hoot to drive, it’s got presence by the truckload and, when all’s said and done, it’s got gullwing doors and looks like one of the most legendary automobiles ever made. And which other car can you say that about?