I grew up in New Jersey, and for a while I was one of the brave, proud, and clinically insane pump jockeys working at a very busy WaWa. I came to appreciate all sorts of cars that came through, cementing my love for cars in something more real than a videogame. We would snap pics of Lotuses and FFerrari, even a few phantoms and ford gt’s would come by on occasion. The sheer volume of traffic meant we got an exotic every once in a while. One day a guy rolled up in a beautiful Shelby gt500 and my friend/coworker Timmy got to go for a ride in it. We all talked about dream cars and mine was always the Mercedes SLS AMG. Something about that engine noise and the gullwing doors, that grille, the low wide stance, those beefy tires and all that naturally aspirated power on tap. Not so much power that you’ll die immediately, but certainly enough to hoon your way out of a set of legs.

about 4 years later a friend of my partner’s family brought the SLS by. I was living in Southern Oregon when i got to take it for a drive. When I got in and took it for a spin it was like sitting in a fighter jet riding a wave of explosions that melted the surroundings into a fast moving blur in an instant. I’ve driven a drag car tuned to 765 bhp before, it was raw and carnal, it was trying to tear my head off, but i’d seriously say it was slower than the SLS. I had a really beautiful curvy mountain road to drive from Grants Pass OR to Brookings OR, a road that carves through a redwood forest and dips into Northern California for a few miles. It was an experience that I would repeat every single day if i could. Hard on gas, hard on brakes, all of the g force, those huge tires were tacked to the asphalt with a little wiggle of the tail end coming back into every straight. That engine noise...

It was sexy.