Mercedes-Benz 300 SL Was Pulled Out Of A Junkyard

Like an ancient mummy rising from its tomb, 10 highly valuable classic cars emerged from a junkyard last October and immediately went to auction—warts and all. They ranged from an ultra-rare Mercedes-Benz 300SL ‘Alloy’ Gullwing, to retro BMW motorcycles, two Miuras, and the shell of what once was a Ferrari 330 GTC.
 

But not even their deteriorated conditions would stop savvy (and wealthy) collectors from snapping up these classics, most of them for millions of dollars. The rare ‘Alloy’ Gullwing—maybe in the best shape of all—sold for $9.4 million. A Horch 855 Special Roadster from 1939 went for $3.3 million. And though not nearly as sought after as its winged sibling, a beat-up 300SL Roadster still went home for a hefty $1.2 million.
 
You would imagine anyone with that much cash would immediately send these cars to the nearest restoration shop and flip them for a few million or more. But the absolute legend who spent over seven figures on a rusty SL Roadster decided on a different direction entirely.
 
Instead of dropping more cash for a full restoration, the new owner worked directly with Mercedes-Benz Heritage to bring the original SL back to running condition—and nothing more. The car still looks like it’s been sitting in a garage for decades, but now it runs and drives (mostly) like new.
 
For this year’s Moda Miami event in Coral Gables, Mercedes-Benz brought the unmolested SL Roadster (and an SLR Stirling Moss, which I also drove), to the Concours Club track. I assumed we’d watch one of Mercedes-Benz’s many experts take it for a quick spin, a fun visual gag to prove that, indeed, the car does run and drive in its current condition. Plenty of laughs would be had.
 
But before I know it, I’m standing in pit lane with my helmet on and the SL’s keys in my hand. Concerning.
 
The car still looks like it’s been sitting in a garage for decades, but now it runs and drives (mostly) like new.
 

When I say this car is untouched, I truly, genuinely mean it. The original red leather cracks and crumbles under my ass as I hop in the driver’s seat, the windshield is still caked in decades of dirt and who knows what else. The only non-mechnical modifications are the tires; To get this thing driving again, Mercedes gave it new rubber.
 
But I’m not going at it alone. Seated to my right is Nate Lander, chief mechanic at the Mercedes-Benc Classic Center in Long Beach. He’s the caretaker for this beautiful piece of machinery and there to make sure I don’t absolutely muck it up. Before we set off, though, Nate jumps out of the passenger seat, hops over the pit wall, and emerges with a rubber mallet. Before I even have time to process what’s happening, Nate is hammering on the knock-off hubs like we’re about to go a full 24 at Le Mans.
 
“Want to make sure they’re nice and torqued. Just in case…”
 
Right. Of course.
 

Before I can think too hard about the fact that I’m about to pedal a nearly 70-year-old, mostly untouched, seven-figure classic that someone just took a hammer to, I get the green light. Barely taking into account the fact that the windshield is caked in crap, obscuring my view, I shove the dusty floor-mounted manual shifter headlong into first gear and we’re off.
 
I won’t lie: The first few moments are intimidating. Five minutes prior, I’m racing around the same track in Jerry Seinfeld’s purpose-built Mercedes Renntech E60. A beautiful thing in its own right. Now I’m in a car older than my parents with fewer niceties than a pickup truck.
 
There’s no power steering, obviously, and combined with the insanely wide diameter of the steering wheel, it feels like you’re rowing an old-timey ship through rough waters. And it has nearly as much body roll, too. The brake pedal is heavy, and the old-school disc brakes require maximum effort to bring the car back down to speed.
 
After timidly puttering through the first few turns and down some early straights, I’m starting to get a hang of things. With more confidence under my belt, I open it up.
 
First into second, second into third—I’m almost touching 40 miles per hour, baby. With just 215 horsepower, the SL’s fuel-injected 3.0-liter inline-six doesn’t feel impressive by 2025 standards. Hell, even the nearly 30-year-old Renntech E60 has 420 hp. But back then, 215 hp was plenty enough for a car of this prestige, and with nothing but the sky above my helmet, I’m about to hear how epic that old-school engine sounds at full bore.
 
When I say this car is untouched, I truly, genuinely mean it.
 
After the first lap, nerves settling, I’m enjoying this absolutely brilliant machine without fear of wrecking it—give or take a few missed downshifts. The lead pack of the SLR Stirling Moss and Renntech E60 have long left me and my co-driver in the dust, but I couldn’t care less. I’m behind the wheel of a $1.1-million, mostly untouched piece of German automotive history—and it rules.
 
So to the person who spent $1.1 million on this car and left it untouched—bravo. With a full restoration and a fresh coat of paint, this car would easily fetch a few dozen million at the next big auction. But the fact that this owner decided to keep its original patina (at least, for the time being) is something you don’t see. And the fact that I got to experience it on the track—it’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience.