The unexpected demise of our trusty Volkswagen Passat wagon in early 2008 left our family in a bit of a transportation bind, relying solely on our Mazda MPV minivan. While city living allowed us to manage with public transport and ride-sharing, the situation wasn’t ideal. Then, in the fall of 2008, I embarked on a new chapter, starting my own consulting business. Conscious of finances, especially during the looming recession, the idea of buying another new car felt imprudent. This led me down a path of exploring used car options.
My search took an interesting turn when I stumbled upon a New York Times article highlighting the appeal of Mercedes-Benz W123 diesel models as dependable daily drivers. A lightbulb went off! The concept of owning one of these famously robust vehicles as both my first classic car and a practical daily driver was incredibly appealing. I wasn’t alone in this sentiment, as others in the Curbside Classic community had previously shared similar ideas. This is how I found myself the owner of a white 1983 Mercedes 240d.
Looking back, purchasing this Mercedes 240D wasn’t the most thoroughly thought-out decision I’ve ever made. Firstly, my realization coincided with January in Minnesota – hardly the ideal time for car shopping. The selection of available vehicles was, to put it mildly, limited. Secondly, while I had always admired the aesthetic and legendary reputation of the W123 generation Mercedes-Benz, my direct experience was minimal. I had never actually driven one and my only prior encounter was a brief 10-minute ride in one many years before, owned by a friend’s family. Thirdly, it’s crucial to remember we were talking about a car that was already 26 years old at the time. Two and a half decades inevitably take their toll on any vehicle, suggesting a need for realistic expectations and a thorough pre-purchase inspection. Fourthly, the Mercedes 240D in question was advertised on Craigslist, located on a farm about two hours from my home. This distance further complicated my ability to conduct a proper inspection, compounded by time constraints and the notoriously frigid Minnesota winter weather. And finally, fifthly, this particular model was equipped with the infamous Mercedes four-cylinder diesel engine – a workhorse, undoubtedly, but also known for its leisurely pace, making it one of the slowest cars around. To top it off, it had an automatic transmission. Starting a 26-year-old diesel engine in sub-freezing temperatures demands a certain level of patience (thankfully, it did have a block heater).
Despite these potential red flags, fueled by a desire for a classic Mercedes 240D, I convinced my wife and sons to join me on a 100-mile drive to a farm in southern Minnesota. There, I met a pleasant young man who was selling the car and, on the spot, decided to pay $2200 for it. Now, it’s important to understand a few key aspects of these Mercedes-Benz cars. They are exceptionally robust, boasting a build quality akin to a bank vault. This particular 240D had around 170,000 miles on the odometer, which, according to the common wisdom, meant it still had plenty of “life left.” It offered a comfortable ride, ran smoothly without any strange noises, was surprisingly quiet, and once it reached cruising speed, it could effortlessly cover mile after mile. However, the drive back home revealed a couple of immediate issues. The dashboard lights were incredibly dim, barely illuminating the speedometer in the darkness. The heater was remarkably slow – a very LONG wait – to produce any noticeable warmth. And winter traction proved to be less than ideal. It had been some time since I had driven a rear-wheel-drive car, and despite having decent Michelin tires, I had forgotten the significant difference drive wheels make in snowy conditions.
The Mercedes 240D undeniably possessed the robust build quality of a tank, but no vehicle is immune to the relentless effects of time. Within the first month of ownership, the oil cooler lines developed significant leaks, necessitating replacement at a cost of nearly $1,000. The notorious Mercedes vacuum system also began to misbehave erratically. The door locks would randomly open or refuse to open, seemingly governed by some unpredictable force I couldn’t decipher. I even invested in specialized diagnostic equipment to try and troubleshoot the vacuum door lock issues, but with limited success. My grade-school-aged sons frequently voiced their complaints about being locked in the back seat when a door or another malfunctioned.
Winter driving also introduced a new source of anxiety: the fear of the car not starting. Having never owned a diesel vehicle in such a harsh climate, I became paranoid about venturing out in sub-freezing temperatures without ensuring the block heater was plugged in. While the glow plugs did their job and I was never actually stranded, a persistent concern lingered whenever I parked the Mercedes 240D somewhere in sub-freezing weather for an extended period. Lastly, the air conditioning system was non-functional, which consequently impacted the effectiveness of the defrost and defogging, making visibility a challenge at times.
However, the most significant drawback, by far, was the Mercedes 240D‘s general lack of speed. For city driving, this wasn’t a major impediment. Once it reached cruising speed, the car performed as well as any other vehicle. Handling was competent, and after re-acclimating to the nuances of rear-wheel drive in winter, I felt comfortable driving it. But highway merging was an entirely different story. Every highway entrance required careful planning – needing a long on-ramp with no traffic approaching in the right lane. Most of the time, it worked out fine, but I was acutely aware of the minimal margin for error. The automatic transmission shifted smoothly and functioned well with the engine; the issue was simply a deficiency of horsepower relative to the car’s weight. Adding family members to the equation only exacerbated the issue, sometimes making highway merges feel a bit too dramatic.
Despite these shortcomings, the Mercedes 240D possessed numerous virtues. Had I possessed more time, financial resources, garage space, and mechanical expertise, I believe I could have successfully made the car work for me. The W123 generation Mercedes-Benz might be perceived as somewhat conservative in styling, but it embodies a timeless classic design, and Mercedes undeniably over-engineered these vehicles. It’s no surprise that I frequently encountered these cars operating as taxis years later during my travels in Morocco. Excellent interior space utilization, robust build quality, a comfortable yet controlled ride, and fundamentally sound, well-engineered systems made the Mercedes 240D a natural choice for long-term use, particularly in warmer climates.
Ultimately, however, the Mercedes 240D didn’t quite fulfill my needs as a reliable backup family car. As warmer weather arrived, my attention began to drift towards other vehicles, and by September, I found myself considering another classic rear-wheel-drive replacement – this time a blue Volvo 240 wagon. After a few weeks of listing it on Craigslist, I sold the Mercedes 240D to a couple residing on a farm about an hour and a half north of the Twin Cities. Perhaps there’s an inherent synergy between rural life and these enduringly durable cars.
Now that I’m approaching empty-nester status, I occasionally contemplate the possibility of revisiting the W123 diesel, perhaps as a purely warm-weather collector’s item. If I were to pursue this, I would likely seek out a model with the turbocharged five-cylinder engine or, at the very least, a four-cylinder paired with a manual transmission. These cars still exude a remarkably handsome presence, even 40+ years after their initial introduction. I often spot wagon versions in my neighborhood and find myself thinking, “Maybe someday…”
