Mercedes G350d: Driven

We seize a rare opportunity to take the latest G-Wagen nto the mucky stuff...

After nearly forty years the Gelandewagen has carved an impressive, and profitable, niche for itself - one that has precisely nothing to do with what it was conceived for in the early 70s. Back then Mercedes, famously encouraged by the Shah of Iran, was looking to build a very functional off-roader and teamed up with Steyr-Daimler-Puch (a famed Austrian maker of military vehicles) to nail the robust requirements of such a venture.

The G-Wagen's form-follows-function 'styling' is the result. However, much like the Land Rover Defender, the anachronistic look and rugged, go-anywhere appeal of the model meant it struck a chord with well-heeled civilians, and even in the early 80s, Mercedes had begun to pander to their needs. By 1990, and the introduction of the new 463, the trio of diff lock switches would most often be flanked by wood and leather, and by '93 you could have a V8. A year later, the car was officially dubbed the G-Class.

Today, in the UK, an entry-level G350d starts at £92,025 - little wonder then that they're such a rare sight beyond cash-rich city centres. Rarer still that you'd see one tarnished by the muck of a British green lane. Consequently Mercedes, well aware of the fact that its most capable off-roader doesn't typically do anything more challenging than mounting a kerb outside Selfridges, has kindly laid on Stonor Park in the Chiltern Hills for a spot of reasonably serious adventuring.

This is good for two reasons: a) removing the tarmac from beneath the G-Wagen's tyres and replacing it with the soft, nurtured soil of an 850-year-old park does wonders for its previously middling ride and refinement and b) very much like a Defender, the takeaway experience of driving a G350d changes totally when it's presented with an opportunity to show off its latent, landscape-crossing talent.

Naturally it is Land Rover's longest running son which provides the benchmark for the G-Class, but in truth they're rather different beasts. Gaydon's (understandable) reticence at investing any significant money in the Defender is always highlighted by the material superiority of its German rival. The G-Wagen is a comprehensively nicer place to be (i.e. your correspondent fits in it without the need to have his elbow poking out of the window) and all the modern trimmings are offered in recognizably plush Mercedes trim.

At 2.6 tonnes the car is massively more substantial than the Land Rover, but the 245hp 3.0-litre V6 is precisely the sort of potent oil burner that the Defender never received, and compared with Gaydon's sinewy mountain goat, it makes a greased cougar of the G350d. Given the nature of the exercise, Mercedes' instructors have us in low range almost from the get-go, but there's a lingering suspicion that 442lb ft of torque from 1,600rpm would see us across most of the park without ever indulging the transfer case.

Doing so of course is simply involves the push of a button (much like selecting gears on the seven-speed transmission requires the tug of a paddle). But that ought not to give the impression that the G-wagen is automated in the Land Rover Discovery mould: there's no terrain response dial, hill descent control or crawl mode here - there's your low range button, and your three dash-mounted hero switches, one each for the centre, rear and front locking diffs.

This means that for all its opulence and power - and with the drivetrain whirring away in the shortened variant of second or third gear (and on Atturo all-terrain tyres to boot) - the G350d still feels like an enjoyably analogue piece of kit, and primed for just about anything. Where a current Disco or Land Cruiser would molly coddle you down a steep, grassy gradient, in the Mercedes you do it the old fashioned way; letting first gear take all the strain and making steering inputs with kid gloves.

In this respect, the deadweight feel of the G-Wagen's hydraulic rack makes a good deal more sense than it does on the road - but its inherently slow rate of response is still hard to forgive when you don't make it through a 90-degree turn at the first go. This is likely to be the only manoeuvre that ever trips you up though: the G-Class's approach and departure angles are legendarily good (all part and parcel of the original design) and while there're obviously no air springs to impart any additional ride height, there's sufficient in-built ground clearance for nothing at Stonor to make a lasting impression on the car's underside.

Indeed, even when the ruts deepen to proper water-filled welly-toppers, the G350d doesn't really want for anymore than a cautious engagement of the centre diff lock. It barely winces at the freshly dug obstacle meant to show off the traction-finding ability of the front and rear diffs either: the axle-testing pits having not been made quite deep enough to challenge the limits of the articulation, meaning the Mercedes lollops through with the indifference of a well-oiled Panzer.

Obviously this is all rather the point. Evidently neither time, nor any amount of soft furnishings inside, can dull the G-Wagen's embryonic ability to march across the countryside unhindered by anything as mundane as changing conditions. In fact, the subsequent layers of richness and modernity appear less as useless fat at Stonor, but rather as appropriate cushioning; not so thick as to flatten the scenery entirely (as a Range Rover would) but just plump enough to remove the sharp, disconcerting edges. With the Defender dead and the Discovery 4 gone, the G-Class is perhaps the last bonafide way of accessing an appreciably mechanical, deluxe off-roader while simultaneously emptying a large bank account.

MERCEDES-BENZ G350D
Engine: 2,987cc V6 diesel
Transmission: 7-speed automatic, low-range transfer case, four-wheel drive
Power (hp): 245@3,600rpm
Torque (lb ft): 442@1,600-2,400rpm
0-62mph: 8.9 seconds
Top speed: 119mph
Weight: 2,612kg
MPG: 28.5 (NEDC combined)
CO2: 261g/km
Price: £88,800