50 Miles In A Mercedes G 63 AMG And I'm Already Ignoring Proles

I'd been dying to shakedown a glorious Gelandewagen forever. Haven't we all? We'll now I've got a G 63 AMG no less, with a big chrome brush guard and Florida license plates. So I'm taking it to place it will really be appreciated; Vermont! I'm gonna get me some Subaru skulls.

I'll be driving this thing all over the place for the next seven days, what do you want to know?

I just picked the SUV up from Mercedes-Benz's gorgeous facility in Montevale, New Jersey, whipped it home last night, and will head north thusly. I'm already embarrassed by how much I like it– and it's making me realize that I'd probably love some leather-wrapped military surplus slagmobile from the likes of Dartz. What the hell is wrong with me?

First Miles

Shifts are harsh, noise is (wonderfully) brutal, it's very, very fast. Mercedes is going to hate me for saying this, but it actually reminds me of this Jeep CJ-7 I once drove that somebody's cousin had shoehorned a monster V8 into... except I don't (think) I'm going to put my foot through a rust hole when I mash the gas in this thing.

50 Miles In A Mercedes G 63 AMG And I'm Already Ignoring Proles

Red says "I'm awesome."

The seat are soft, kind of. It feels like leather and a nice cushion were wrapped around over a springy army plane jump seat. Love that.

The view is brilliant; it feels like you're looking down at the hood from a flybridge on a trophy fishing boat. For a somewhat large SUV it feels remarkably small from behind the wheel.

And that noise. Wow. I am going to be so popular with the birdwatchers and yoga posers in the Green Mountain State this weekend as I announce my presence with the tall pedal.

50 Miles In A Mercedes G 63 AMG And I'm Already Ignoring Proles

Best feature is probably the basketball hoop.

Fit and finish is on the "meh" side, borderline "weak" for a six-figure vehicle, and what's up with that iPod-slapped-on-the-dash infotainment screen? What happened to integration, Mercedes?

But I don't care about any of that because three gorgeous shiny chrome differential-lock switches, which will probably be used by me and me alone in the vehicle's entire lifetime, command a central location in the dash. Labeled "3, 1, 2" in that order, which makes sense?

Images: Andrew P. Collins