I once made the impulsive decision to own a 2002 Mercedes G500. In hindsight, and as you’ll discover in this detailed review, it wasn’t the most sensible choice. But before diving into the ownership experience, let’s explore the fascinating backstory of this instantly recognizable vehicle.
While commonly perceived as a German military vehicle, the origins of the G-Wagen, short for “Gelandewagen,” meaning “cross-country vehicle” in German, are a bit more nuanced. In the early 1970s, the Shah of Iran, then a significant shareholder of Mercedes-Benz, is said to have proposed the idea. Whether it was a mere suggestion or a more forceful request is up for debate, but the result was the development of this rugged off-roader. Interestingly, the German military did eventually adopt the G-Wagen, paving the way for its transition from a purely utilitarian vehicle to a symbol of luxury and status among affluent buyers.
In the 1980s, Europeans began embracing the G-Wagen as a fashionable statement. However, American enthusiasts had to wait. A company based in New Mexico called Europa took the initiative to import them, primarily catering to wealthy residents of Aspen and similar locales. Mercedes-Benz was slow to officially bring the G-Wagen to the U.S. market, but finally, in 2002, the four-door G500 arrived stateside. It quickly became the ultimate status symbol, particularly favored by those seeking to project an image of wealth and extravagance.
The 2002 G500 found its niche among celebrities, athletes, and those who appreciated its bold, unapologetic presence. While this luxury application might seem far removed from its original military purpose, Mercedes-Benz certainly wasn’t complaining. By this point, the development costs were long recouped, making each G500 sold a highly profitable venture. One could argue that the G-Wagen’s enduring appeal is a testament to its iconic design and robust engineering, even if its primary role shifted dramatically over time.
Why the 2002 G500 Appealed to Me
{width=280 height=250}My reasons for wanting a 2002 Mercedes G500 were a mix of aspiration and questionable logic. I’ll admit, a significant part of the appeal was the perceived “cool factor.” Looking back, this motivation seems somewhat vain. As one former colleague bluntly put it, I probably came across as a “total douchebag.” Nevertheless, at the time, the G500 seemed undeniably impressive, much like a child proudly wearing a superhero cape on school picture day.
Beyond the image, there were a couple of semi-rational justifications. Firstly, I lived in Atlanta, a city not exactly known for heavy snowfall, averaging a mere 0.1 inches annually. However, there was one exceptional year with significant snow accumulation. My Porsche, ill-equipped for such conditions, left me stranded for days, highlighting the limitations of a performance car in unexpected weather. So, in early December, I purchased the G500, determined to be prepared for any future snowstorms, however unlikely.
The only genuinely practical reason was the G500’s legendary off-road prowess. With its three locking differentials, it’s designed to overcome virtually any challenging terrain. Most owners are more likely to encounter this capability when mounting a curb at a coffee shop, but I had more ambitious plans. Inspired by past off-road experiences with an older Land Cruiser, I envisioned exploring rough trails and putting the G500’s off-road capabilities to the test.
Exterior Styling: Form Follows Function (or a File Cabinet)
The design of the 2002 Mercedes G500 is undeniably polarizing. Whether you find it appealing largely depends on your appreciation for utilitarian aesthetics, perhaps akin to a well-designed file cabinet. The G-Wagen’s design is indeed function-first, characterized by sharp angles and externally mounted door handles. Considering its age and military roots, it’s quite possible the file cabinet analogy is actually backwards – perhaps file cabinets were designed to emulate the G-Wagen’s robust form.
However, there are several exterior elements of the G-Wagen that I genuinely appreciate. One is the satisfyingly solid “click” of the doors closing. It’s a sound that conveys a sense of robustness and quality, equally fitting for German military operations or the pampered world of Beverly Hills luxury shopping.
I also admire the robust spare tire cover. Unlike the flimsy canvas or plastic covers found on many SUVs, the G500 features a substantial, body-colored metal cover. Embossed with “Mercedes-Benz” in refined lettering, it serves as a subtle brand reminder for those stuck behind you in traffic, as they certainly won’t be able to see over you.
Perhaps the most distinctive exterior feature is the front turn signals. Instead of being integrated into the headlight assembly, they are prominently positioned atop the front fenders. This design choice constantly emphasizes the vehicle’s rugged origins, suggesting that turn signals were almost an afterthought on a vehicle initially conceived for military use. On AMG models, these turn signals are even adorned with miniature brush guards, a somewhat comical addition that offers negligible practical benefit, much like bringing a baseball glove to a professional baseball game – but as AMG owners might argue, “you never know when you might need it.”
Stepping Inside: A Surprisingly Civilized Interior
Despite the 2002 Mercedes G500’s overtly militaristic exterior, the interior is surprisingly refined and comfortable. Once you’ve managed the somewhat challenging climb into the cabin – a minor hurdle for taller individuals but potentially requiring a running start for shorter occupants – you’ll find yourself in a space that largely resembles any other Mercedes-Benz of the era. And you are rewarded with that signature, reassuring door latch sound.
However, subtle reminders of the G-Wagen’s utilitarian heritage remain. The passenger-side grab handle on the dashboard, for instance, is so firmly mounted it feels structurally integral to the vehicle. Similarly, the turn signal stalk requires an unexpectedly firm push, seemingly engineered for the robust hands of a German soldier. This is largely a moot point, however, as many G-Wagen drivers seem to operate under the assumption that turn signals are optional equipment anyway.
Mercedes-Benz did make some concessions to civilian sensibilities in the G-Wagen’s cabin. For example, the aforementioned grab handle is adorned with a strip of faux wood trim – a quaint attempt to soften the otherwise functional interior.
Behind the Wheel: A Unique and Demanding Driving Experience
{width=280 height=250}Driving a 2002 Mercedes G500 is an experience unlike any other, and not always in a positive way. While I’ll address aspects like fuel economy, handling, and acceleration, the most disconcerting aspect is the sense of spatial disorientation caused by the vertical side windows.
Imagine this scenario: you’re driving in the middle lane and want to merge right. Simultaneously, a car is overtaking you on the left. A routine maneuver in most vehicles, but in a G-Wagen, it becomes an exercise in anxiety. The left-passing car’s reflection appears in your passenger-side window, completely confusing your perception of surrounding traffic. You lose track of the passing vehicle’s actual location and can only hope the situation resolves itself without requiring any drastic actions, like signaling your intentions.
Adding to the driving experience is the G500’s prodigious thirst for fuel. It’s a well-documented characteristic in G-Wagen reviews, but it’s truly remarkable. This consumption stems from two primary factors: its aerodynamic profile, which resembles the aforementioned file cabinet, and its substantial weight, comparable to a small country. The 2002 G500’s curb weight is nearly triple that of the Lotus I owned previously, a stark contrast in vehicle philosophies.
Surprisingly, the weight doesn’t translate to cumbersome handling on winding roads. In fact, I was genuinely impressed by the G500’s maneuverability in most driving situations. My initial expectations were for it to handle like a ponderous houseboat or, worse, a sluggish 1990s Chrysler. Instead, it steers with a surprising degree of precision, somewhat akin to a larger E-Class sedan. While that might not sound like effusive praise, it’s high commendation for a vehicle designed with off-road capabilities as a primary focus, especially considering its age.
The weight becomes a more significant factor in straight-line driving, particularly at higher speeds. Around 35 mph and above, the G500’s momentum and sheer mass demand a heightened sense of driving responsibility. Pedestrian safety becomes a serious consideration; a jaywalker stepping into your path would face dire consequences. Even in vehicle-to-vehicle scenarios, the G500’s stopping power feels inadequate for its mass.
Downhill driving in the G-Wagen is particularly unnerving. It gathers speed with alarming ease, feeling as if the accelerator is partially engaged. AMG versions, with their enhanced acceleration, likely amplify these concerns, combining dangerous blind spots, immense weight, and limited braking capability. But at least they have brush guards for the turn signals, for that added peace of mind (or perhaps irony).
Verdict: Iconic but Impractical for Some
I understand the enduring allure of the G-Wagen. It projects an image of preparedness, exclusivity, and undeniable coolness. However, based on my personal ownership experience with a 2002 Mercedes G500, I can debunk some of these notions.
Firstly, the G-Wagen is not necessarily “ready for anything.” My example, sourced from Boston, suffered from significant undercarriage rust, resembling a relic recovered from the Titanic. Before I could even contemplate any serious off-roading, I had to sell it to CarMax, likely condemning it to an early, rusty demise.
Beyond rust, 2002 G500s can be surprisingly fragile in certain areas. Window regulators seemed designed for frequent failure, requiring expensive repairs every few months. The door locks operated with the finesse and reliability of a vintage Land Rover. And the constant worry of incurring substantial repair bills for specialized German parts loomed over any off-road excursions. It’s worth noting that older, pre-2002 G-Wagens are known for their robust durability, capable of handling demanding conditions like the Polish terrain.
The idea that the G-Wagen automatically confers “coolness” is also subjective and debatable. Personally, I felt more self-conscious driving the G500 than any other vehicle I’ve owned. If your self-image aligns with the stereotype of a wealthy, ostentatious individual, the G-Wagen might fit. However, for me, the G500’s image felt incongruent with my personality.
Of course, individual experiences may vary. Your ownership journey with a 2002 Mercedes G500 might differ significantly from mine, whether regarding rust, image, or driving dynamics. As with any vehicle, your mileage may vary – unless we’re talking about actual fuel mileage, which will consistently be dismal.
Doug DeMuro operates PlaysWithCars.com. He’s owned an E63 AMG wagon, road-tripped across the US in a Lotus without air conditioning, and posted a six-minute lap time on the Circuit de Monaco in a rented Ford Fiesta. One year after becoming Porsche Cars North America’s youngest manager, he quit to become a writer. His parents are very disappointed.
