Rarity counts for a lot. Especially in this month’s issue. We searched high and low for a Mercedes to fit into our body-styling issue that wasn’t dressed in the ubiquitous Brabus or Lorinser garb. It was difficult at first, but then we stumbled upon this example of uniqueness. Actually, Luwin Kwan, the owner of this ’99 Mercedes C230, stumbled upon us. He contacted us trying to find out what it would take to get his car in the magazine. Luckily for Luwin, all it took was one e-mail.
When Luwin pulled into the parking lot the evening of the photo shoot, I was blown away. The Benz slowly crept up the driveway, making sure not to scrape the Rieger lip spoiler. The exterior was brilliantly dressed in Rieger wears with an A! Avantguarde grille, Hagus mirrors, and Kamei headlight eyebrows. After loading the photo gear in the Benz’s usable trunk, Luwin tossed me the keys and told me I was driving. Without hesitation, I anxiously strapped myself into the Corbeau SR-1 seat and turned the key.
Pegging the throttle, I bulleted up the curvy mountain road. As we careened through the hills, I noticed the motor was oblivious to the steep inclines I was taking it up. The revs didn’t even need to be wound high to get to the power. The UPsolute chip worked so well in conjunction with the Kleemann supercharger pulley and the Remus exhaust, that even below 2,000 rpm the Benz was relatively fast, and over 4,000 rpm the sedan was a blast. This all makes sense when you think about it. The stock Mercedes compressor produces a wimpy 4.6 psi. With the chip and pulley, the supercharger pumps nearly 11 psi into the cylinders. That’s power, pure and simple.
The only problem with mountain roads is that corners come up fast; they’re usually blind turns, and 50 percent of the time they’re downhill. That means unless you have extremely competent brakes and expertly balanced suspension, you’ll find yourself in a heap of trouble very quickly. Assuming the C230 had all these components, I dived deep into a succession of turns and jabbed the brakes. The front six-piston AP Racing calipers grabbed hard on the 13.8-inch rotors, and the Benz hastily decreased its velocity. Sawing the wheel, the Eibach springs and sway bars worked well with the Bilstein dampers and held the car with minimal body roll. The car felt predictable, and although the 19-inch Axis Se7en wheels aren’t exactly bred for track use, they definitely held their own. With little more than a squeal from the Nitto NT-555s, I exited the final turn, gathered up my composure, counted my blessings that I hadn’t wadded up a reader’s car, and turned on the radio.
I’d seen the trunk-mounted stereo when I placed my camera gear in earlier. The trunk was mainly composed of a subwoofer box with a couple Massive Audio woofers, a few Plexiglas-covered Planet Audio amps, and several lift-out carpeted sections that sat on the Plexiglas, thus leaving the trunk usable. Inside the cabin, Luwin had installed an Alpine head unit with a folding monitor, a TV tuner, a Panasonic DVD player, and the prerequisite PlayStation. The trunk-mounted woofers pounded their displaced air through a rear armrest-mounted pass-though.
Before the photo shoot was over, and just after Luwin had politely but hastily taken the keys from me, he asked if he could thank a handful of people for working on the car. Bahn Brenner imported the Rieger body, Covina Collision painted the pieces, and Audio Innovations installed the majority of the audio setup.
I told Luwin I’d try to mention something—after all, he had enough self- composure that he only grabbed for the dash three times while I was behind the wheel. That has to be a new record.