We’ve been talking a lot here at TTS lately about how in terms of cars (and frankly general curmudgeonness) our aging GenX selves are rapidly turning into our fathers. It’s not an insult to them or us, but rather a commentary on how the joy and satisfaction of tinkering with old cars and solving their old car challenges – for us – seems to be giving way somewhat to the pleasure of “turn key” ownership. We still love interesting cars, but not so much the drama that often accompanies them: the “now I have to deal” factor. And then I come across a car like this sweetheart of a 1979 Mercedes-Benz 450SEL 6.9, and I want to throw all caution to the wind and jump right back in.

Sure, I could seek out some form of therapy (and marriage counseling) to help, but where’s the fun in that? Among the reasons we started this blog, at least for me, was to write about the cars I wanted to buy instead of just buying them – like some sort of cathartic healing process. Maybe if I talk about the cars I want to buy, I’ll talk myself right out of buying them – or something like that. It actually works sometimes, but is usually coupled with a lack of funds and/or the threat of domestic unrest. But just look at this gorgeous 6.9: rust free, deep, lustrous paint, mostly crack-free dash, and heck: the sunroof even works!! Sure, it has needs, but nothing insurmountable and largely stuff I can do on my own and/or I know a guy. Writing about this car, so far, is not helping move me on.

If you don’t know about the 6.9s, they may look like regular, run-of-the-mill 450SELs, but they are most definitely something special. The 6.9 was the final offering of Mercedes’ M100 V8 engine which started life in 6.3 liter form powering the 600 Grosser in 1963. A few years later, Mercedes engineer and bona-fide Car Geek Erich Waxenberger shoehorned that motor into the W109 300SEL, effectively creating the first regular production “Banker’s Hotrod”. The 6.9 is the successor to the 6.3, and having owned both I can attest to the fact that it is better in every single way save for one: it doesn’t look or feel as old – which can be read as a plus or a minus, depending on your frame of mind. 6.3s demand quite a dollar premium over 6.9s, and they most definitely deliver a more raw, visceral driving experience, but give me a 6.9 any day and twice on Sundays for a cross-country road trip. It’s one of those cars that looks old enough to be classic, but feels modern enough that you don’t spend every drive in fear of which fragile system will be next to leave you stranded at the side of the road. 

Mercedes built 7,380 450SEL 6.9s between 1975 and 1980, with just 1,816 officially imported to North America starting in 1977. By any measure, they are rare, but plentiful enough that cars and parts are still relatively easy to find. That’s not to say they are cheap or easy to own. Anyone who has owned a classic Mercedes knows that they will run practically forever, but they do require regular, sometimes costly maintenance. Bear in mind that the 6.9 was Mercedes’ flagship model, costing just over $50,000 in 1977 – or the equivalent of about $266,000 in 2025 dollars. These were the cars of movie stars, captains of industry, dignitaries, and despots, so it’s not unreasonable to assume that care and feeding is not the same as your Uncle Otto’s 240D 4-speed. Having said that, it’s not that much different in the grand scheme of things, and I’d much rather wrench on a 6.9 than a new, well, just about anything. Parts prices can be a little crippling, but in this case the internet is your friend. Having drunk the 6.9 Kool Aid a few times in the past, I’m not afraid. (This is where I can hear Yoda saying “you will be!“)….

On the road, a 6.9 pulls like a freight train, and assuming yours is in good working order (brakes, tires, suspension, cooling system) will hit 60 mph from a standstill in about 7.4 seconds and cruise happily along all day long at 140+mph. Yeah, a new Camry can do all that and more, but where’s the fun in that? There is something intoxicating about the combination of the thrust of 286hp/360 ft/lb of torque (US-spec), the sound of a huge V8, and the smell of old school German leather that you simply can’t buy anywhere anymore. Add the slightly menacing appearance of the US-spec 6.9 with its quad headlights and massive bumpers, and you get a special  brand of fun. Interestingly, despite the overall mass of the 6.9, it is also remarkably fun on the backroads, thanks to the hydraulic self-levelling suspension. Properly sorted, these cars can absorb anything the road throws at them and yet handle like something half their size.So back to this example: I found this car listed HERE on Hemmings quite by accident yesterday. I don’t know if I’m just getting accustomed to where car prices are now, but it caught my eye as not being a complete pile for $22,500, and having very solid bones. These days, twenty grand barely buys anything that combines interesting and drivable, and certainly doesn’t scream “rare” or “exclusive”. I also like the seller, Dodi Auto Sales out of Monterey, California. I’ve followed them ever since seeing them a few years back on Wayne Carini’s Chasing Classic Cars, and I genuinely enjoy their videos on Instagram – they share a lot of truth on there about the cars and their process of acquisition and sale prep. For me, older cars appeal if their needs correspond generally with my interests and abilities. This 6.9 needs brakes – check. It may need suspension accumulators – check. It needs some interior work – I know a guy and everything is available – check. It has a leaky power steering pump – check. What I also see it that it *doesn’t* need bodywork, major mechanical overhaul, struts, and so on. It may (probably?) need AC work, but that’s all very doable and parts available. I’d also put 15″ Bundt-style alloys on it in place of the later Gullideckels, but that’s just me.  What it really needs? It needs to be driven. I’ve owned 4 6.9s over the years, three of which ran. The only thing they didn’t like was sitting around, but they generally snapped back into action pretty readily. 

This car shows a lot of signs that it has been loved over the years, and it comes with a decent amount of recent maintenance history. It reeks of a car that could be bought, take care of basics, and further restored while being driven. I’d love to put some highway miles on it, and tinker with the things that I want to tinker with and have the other stuff taken care of as needed. Heck, I might even just start with a nice set of sheepskin seat covers – they were all the rage when these were new cars. Those would go really nicely with the CB radio. Do truckers still use those? Enquiring minds want to know.

And herein lies the trap that I repeatedly fall into. In my heart I love cars like this, but in my brain I fear them a little. Still, as a classic super sedan to drive and enjoy the 6.9 is hard to beat. I kinda want it. And so do you. Hey, honey…?