The search for a reliable and characterful car took an unexpected turn when our family found ourselves as a one-vehicle household in early 2008. After the unfortunate demise of our VW Passat, and navigating city life with a minivan, public transport, and ride-sharing, the need for a second vehicle became apparent. Coinciding with a career shift into consulting (timing is everything, right?), the desire for a new car was tempered by a need for fiscal prudence. That’s when I stumbled upon an article in the New York Times detailing the experiences of a New Jersey resident who swore by Mercedes W123 diesel models as daily drivers. The idea sparked instantly: a classic car that could also serve as dependable transportation. This resonated with articles I’d seen on Curbside Classic, further fueling the dream of owning one of these supposedly indestructible machines. And so began my foray into the world of the Diesel Mercedes 240d. My steed of choice? A white 1983 model.
Looking back, the decision to acquire a 26-year-old diesel Mercedes 240D in January in Minnesota might not have been my most meticulously planned endeavor. Firstly, winter in Minnesota isn’t exactly prime used car hunting season, resulting in a rather limited selection. Secondly, despite my long-held admiration for the W123’s aesthetics and legendary reputation, my practical experience was virtually nil. A brief 10-minute ride in a friend’s parents’ Mercedes 240D years prior was the extent of my firsthand interaction. Thirdly, common sense dictates that a car of that age is bound to have accumulated some wear and tear, warranting a thorough inspection and realistic expectations. Fourthly, the car in question was advertised on Craigslist, located on a farm a couple of hours away – hardly conducive to a comprehensive pre-purchase examination, especially given the distance and the biting Minnesota winter. And finally, we’re talking about the Mercedes 240D with its four-cylinder diesel engine – a powerplant renowned for its durability, yes, but also for its leisurely pace. To top it off, it was equipped with an automatic transmission. Starting a 26-year-old diesel in sub-freezing temperatures requires a certain level of patience (thankfully, it did have a block heater).
Nevertheless, after persuading my wife and sons to embark on a 100-mile journey to a southern Minnesota farm, I met the affable young seller and, against perhaps better judgment, handed over $2200 for the diesel Mercedes 240D. These cars are undeniably built like tanks, possessing a vault-like solidity. With approximately 170,000 miles on the odometer, this particular model still seemed to have “life in it,” as they say. The ride was smooth, devoid of unusual noises, remarkably quiet, and at cruising speed, it maintained a steady pace effortlessly. However, the drive back home unveiled a few immediate shortcomings. The dashboard illumination was akin to dim fairy lights, barely allowing me to decipher the speedometer in the darkness. The heater was… deliberate, taking an extended period to generate any appreciable warmth. And winter traction proved to be less than ideal. It had been some time since I had driven a rear-wheel-drive vehicle, and despite decent Michelin tires, I had underestimated the difference drive wheels make in snowy conditions.
While the Mercedes 240D undeniably possessed the robust build quality of a tank, time inevitably takes its toll on any vehicle. Within the first month of ownership, the oil cooler lines developed significant leaks, necessitating replacement to the tune of nearly $1,000. The notorious vacuum system also lived up to its reputation for erratic behavior. Door locks would randomly engage or disengage, seemingly governed by an unpredictable logic I couldn’t decipher. I even invested in specialized equipment to diagnose the vacuum issues, with minimal success. My grade-school-aged sons frequently voiced their displeasure at being inadvertently locked in the back seat due to the temperamental door locks.
Winter driving introduced another layer of anxiety: the ever-present fear of the car failing to start. Having never owned a diesel in a harsh climate, I became somewhat paranoid about venturing out in sub-freezing temperatures without ensuring the block heater was plugged in. While the glow plugs performed their function and I never actually got stranded, a nagging concern lingered whenever I parked the car in freezing conditions for an extended period. Furthermore, the inoperative air conditioning system meant that effective defrosting and defogging could be a hit-or-miss affair.
However, the most significant drawback, by far, was the diesel Mercedes 240D‘s inherent slowness. For city driving, this wasn’t a major impediment. Once up to speed, the car kept pace with urban traffic adequately. Handling was competent, and after re-acclimating to the nuances of rear-wheel drive in winter, driving became manageable. However, highway merging presented a different challenge altogether. Every highway entrance required meticulous planning – a long merge lane with no approaching vehicles in the right lane was essential. Most of the time, it was manageable, but the margin for error was slim. The automatic transmission shifted smoothly and worked harmoniously with the engine, the issue was simply a lack of horsepower relative to the car’s weight. Adding passengers only amplified the drama.
Despite these shortcomings, the diesel Mercedes 240D possessed numerous virtues. Had I possessed more time, resources, garage space, and specialized knowledge, I might have been able to make it work long-term. The W123, while perhaps stylistically conservative, embodies a timeless classic design, and Mercedes undeniably over-engineered these cars. It’s no surprise that W123s were a common sight as taxis in Morocco years later. Their excellent space utilization, robust build quality, comfortable (yet controlled) ride, and fundamentally sound engineering made them ideal for enduring long-term use, particularly in warmer climates.
Ultimately, however, the diesel Mercedes 240D didn’t quite fulfill my needs as a reliable backup family vehicle. As warmer weather approached, my automotive interests began to drift, and by September, I found myself contemplating another classic rear-wheel-drive replacement – this time, a blue Volvo 240 wagon (a story for another time). After a few weeks on Craigslist, I sold the Mercedes 240D to a couple residing on a farm about 90 miles north of the Twin Cities. Perhaps there’s an inherent synergy between rural life and these resilient, albeit slow, vehicles.
Now, as an empty-nester, the idea of revisiting a W123 diesel as a dedicated warm-weather collector car occasionally crosses my mind. If I were to pursue this, I would likely seek out a turbo five-cylinder model, or at the very least, a four-cylinder paired with a manual transmission. Even four decades after their initial introduction, these cars retain a remarkably handsome profile. I still spot wagon versions in my neighborhood and think, “Maybe someday…”
