#heat transfer labels Paint bucket
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cargopocketcottagecore · 2 months ago
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Y'all are not ready for my cranberry wine. No, shut up.
3 lbs of cranberries, 2 lbs sugar, 1 lb honey. 2 oranges. Zest one orange, and then juice both. Crush/blend the cranberries, add honey and sugar, add water to make a touch over one gallon. Heat not to boiling but until easily mixed. Carefully scoop off and discard any of the honey residue that forms.
Cool to 85 degrees. If you can stick a finger in and it feels just a little cool, you're good. Add orange juice and zest.
Transfer to cleaned brew bucket. Add a good dependable wine yeast (something able to tolerate rougher conditions with fewer esters is best), a tsp of pectic enzyme, and any yeast energizer/nutrients you need to per the bottle.
Mix that shit. Like put a paint mixer on the end of a drill and go to town.
Seal and lock. Leave in a good temp for the yeast (probably 68ish degrees, but check your label). Once the lock shows bubbles, carefully open the top and break up the cap on top. You should see a lot of bubbles come out. Do not stir! Just gently push the cap down so the yeast doesn't get stressed by the CO2. Reseal the brew bucket. Do this once every couple days until bubbles stop.
Transfer to secondary to finish, then bottle after a month in secondary. Let the bottles sit for 6 months.
Serve slightly chilled with citrus fruit and dark chocolate. It will be slightly tart with a very sweet undertone, and probably 12-14% alcohol. Take a bite of the chocolate, sip the wine, and then take another bite of chocolate.
You can thank me later.
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And they look out so hard for the well being of the spiders AND the dolphins
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brianamorganbooks · 5 years ago
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Even for an all-girls boarding school, the first day of classes feels normal. I wake up a little before my alarm, anxiety roiling in my gut. No way can I go back to sleep. Waking up early turns out to be an unexpected blessing, though, as a knock sounds at the door. I glance over to the other bed, but Charlie isn’t there.
I yawn and manage to roll out of bed. When I answer the door, a security guard informs me that I have two visitors, but I’m not expecting anyone. To my surprise, two movers, both men, stand in the hallway. The security guard supervises as they haul two giant trunks into the dorm room, setting them down at the foot of Charlie’s bed.
“Here you go, Miss Masters,” one of them says to me.
With Charlie missing, it looks like I’m living in this room alone. I kind of feel like I am. I’m not so sure that Charlie unpacking will change that.
“I’m not her,” I say. “I don’t know where she is.”
The first mover grunts. “We need someone to sign for this. Do you think you can do that?”
I shrug. “Yeah, I’ll do it.”
The second mover passes me a tablet, and I scrawl my signature on the screen. He hands the tablet to his colleague and nods to the trunks. “Clothes and everything. Mr. and Mrs. Masters said if she’s missing anything, just let them know.”
That must mean they’re not coming to help her move in. As awful as she is to me, I feel a pang of pity. I may not be on the best terms with my parents right now, but at least they cared enough to make sure I’m settled.
The first mover nods. “Well, have a nice day.”
“You, too,” I answer.
Without another word, they shuffle off, talking loudly down the hall. The security nods and escorts them out.
Once they’re gone and I’ve closed the door behind them, I look over at the giant trunks—large, ornate, and ancient-looking—and wonder what to do. Charlie isn’t here to unpack them herself, and I wouldn’t dream of helping. She’d probably kill me for it.
The movers also brought an easel, a plastic storage tub labeled PAINTS AND ART SUPPLIES, and a bucket full of paintbrushes. Charlie’s an artist? Now the Monet makes more sense.
I finish my routine without touching her stuff, somewhat surprised when she doesn’t show up. My uniform is stiff and scratchy, but it doesn’t look too hideous. The Livingston standard is a red-and-gold pleated skirt, white dress shirt, red tie, and tan blazer with the Livingston crest emblazoned on the chest. As far as uniforms go, it could be so much worse. Still, my knee-high red socks and low-heeled shoes make me feel like a Catholic schoolgirl.
I sit alone at breakfast, fighting the urge to dump my tray and crawl back to my dorm room. I nurse my glass of orange juice like it’s something stronger and push my scrambled eggs around my plate with my fork.
I knew it would be hard for me to make friends here, but so far, I haven’t met a single person who isn’t in a clique. After my weird encounter with Charlie and the other girls in the bathroom, I’m less sure that was a fluke and surer that it’s par for the course. My mom thinks opening up is the key to getting closer to people, but how can I open up to anyone if I can’t get them to look at me, let alone maintain a conversation?
Not far away, Charlie, June, Billie, and Ronnie all sit together, eating and laughing. Some girls in hijabs sit at the table closest to me, also laughing. A squeal of delight cuts through the air, and I turn to see a group of black girls reenact a story. Nearby, more girls trade food items with each other.
I would give anything to know what that inclusion feels like.
After halfheartedly pushing my eggs around on my plate until my phone reminds me it’s time for class, I dump the content of my tray in the trash and sling my bag over my shoulder. Charlie and her gang are still seated, still laughing. I don’t want to bother them.
Classes are predictably boring. Thankfully, because this isn’t a movie, none of the teachers single me out for an introduction as a transfer student. None of the students pay me much attention either. I’m getting used to being ignored.
By the time my English class rolls around, I’m beyond grateful to see two familiar faces—Ronnie and Billie. Unlike June, however, they don’t seem keen on making me feel included. They don’t even acknowledge me as I slide into the desk adjacent to Ronnie’s.
“Hey,” I try.
“Hello,” Billie says.
Ronnie takes a brush out of her purse and runs it through her hair without saying a word. She digs out an eyeshadow palette and a rainbow-handled makeup brush.
Billie takes out her notebook, turns to a new page, and scribbles something across the top of it. Hand-lettering, it looks like. Fancy penmanship stuff. I bet she keeps a bullet journal.
“Have you had this teacher before?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Ronnie says. She doesn’t elaborate.
“Not me,” Billie says. “Doesn’t matter. Heard he’s easy, anyway. Also, it’s English, which we all happen to speak.”
This is probably the most they’ve ever spoken to me, and I’m not sure how to keep them talking. In my earlier classes, I didn’t dare try to even speak to anyone. My nerves got the best of me. Plus, I was too busy making sure I was in the right classroom. This school is too big.
I lean forward in my seat. “I like your glasses, Billie.”
“Thanks, Daisy.”
“It’s Rose.”
She flicks her gaze toward me. “Are you certain?”
“Positive.”
She presses her lips together. “You’re settled in with Charlie then?”
The change in topic pricks my ears. “She say something bad?”
“Not in so many words.”
I look to Ronnie, hoping for some kind of tell. She pulls old receipts and tubes of lipstick out of her purse.
“Charlie’s nice,” I say, and then feel like a giant idiot. Charlie isn’t nice. Anyone can see that, surely even her friends.
Billie quirks an eyebrow. “Is she though?”
“I… no, I guess not.”
I swear to God she smiles. “Haven’t lived with her long and you already get the gist. She’s a right terror. You’re in our thoughts.”
“I’d rather live outside than bunk with her,” says Ronnie. “You’re stronger than I am.”
“Well, so far so good.” I mirror Billie’s smile, hoping I look more comfortable than I feel.
The teacher, a man named Mr. Preston, enters the room and calls us to attention. I spend all of class trying not to look too eager, either to impress the teacher or for friendship, even though I’m starving for both. Once class ends, Billie and Ronnie get up. I start to follow them out when the teacher pulls me aside.
Billie and Ronnie either don’t notice, or they don’t care. I’m not sure which is worse.
“Uh… Rosemary, is it?” Mr. Preston begins. I can already tell from his tone of voice that this won’t be a fun conversation.
“Rose,” I say.
He falters, then forgoes my first name altogether. “Miss Abbott, I wanted to let you know… well, given what happened at your last school…”
Wait, he knows about that? My face catches fire. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not discuss that.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t. I just wanted you to know, I’m happily married. And, if you want to make a good grade in this class, you’ll have to work hard, like everyone else. Any… extra credit will be announced in advance and will be open to everyone. During school hours.”
My whole body burns. “Excuse me?”
“I won’t repeat myself. Do you understand?”
All I want is for the ground to open up and eat me. “Y-yes, sir.”
“Excellent. Have a good rest of your day.”
How can I do that, though, when my teacher insinuated that what happened with Nathan is my fault? That I’m a predatory temptress who lured someone saintly off the straight and narrow?
The rest of my day follows a similar pattern. I have no classes with the other girls, save Charlie in my history class. Relief washes over me when I realize that none of them see the way the teachers here treat me. If it’s any consolation, at least none of the faculty single me out during class.
I’m having a tough time wrapping my head around the idea that news of what happened has traveled over here. Sure, what happened in Salem was local news, but I didn’t think it made it all the way out here. Clearly, I was wrong.
Maybe the faculty have all seen my file.
After my classes, I head back to my dorm room. I pray Charlie isn’t there, but even if she is, it’s not like she’ll talk to me.
Meyer Hall sits sad and empty. Most of the other students must be out in classes, at the library, or hanging with their friends. I get on the elevator and head up to my floor without running into anyone else. While I fish my keys out of my purse, I consider calling my parents. It’s been less than two days, and while they’re not exactly thrilled to speak to me, at least it might be nice to hear a familiar voice.
Then again, if I call them now, it will feel like giving up. Like I’m a scared little girl who still needs her mommy and daddy. I’m not sure I’m ready to give up yet.
When I open the door to my room, Charlie is sitting on her bed. Ronnie, Billie, and June are sitting on mine. Their heads all snap up as they notice me. It might be my imagination, but I swear they all frown.
Ronnie snatches something out of Billie’s hand and holds it to her chest, hidden from me. “What is your roommate doing back here?”
“I don’t know. I thought she was in classes all day.” Charlie shoots me a look, like it’s somehow my fault that she hasn’t memorized my schedule. “Rose, do you mind? We’re in the middle of something.”
It’s the first time she’s gotten my name right, let alone tried to display any semblance of manners toward me, but anger heats my blood. “It’s my room, too. I’m staying.”
Charlie’s eyes narrow. “It’ll just take a second.”
Is she serious? Are they all so self-absorbed they think I’m not offended? This is my room as much as hers. She has no right to kick me out.
I square my shoulders. “I’m taking a nap.”
Ronnie mutters something under her breath. Billie titters. I probably don’t want to know what she said, especially as June won’t look at me or her—or anyone, for that matter. Ronnie is still holding whatever it is tight against her blazer, hidden from sight. What could it be?
I keep my eyes locked on Charlie’s, daring her to try again. Maybe it’s not wise to cross her but they’ve all treated me like shit so far and I just want to crawl under the covers and forget about the day.
Charlie blinks. Ronnie looks to her for guidance, as do the others.
“Fine,” Charlie spits. “Guess we’ll go somewhere else.”
She gestures toward the other girls. Ronnie rolls her eyes, tucks the object she’s been holding into her purse, and heads for the door. June and Billie follow. June shoots me a look so warm, it could almost be sympathetic. Even her sunflower earrings seem to smile at me. Charlie gets up from the bed and glares.
I try my best to ignore her, but she’s not leaving until she says her piece. “What is it?”
“Watch yourself.”
“What?”
From the open doorway, Billie laughs again. Charlie shoots her a look, then returns her attention to me. “You need to work on your attitude.”
Jesus. “You’re the one with the attitude here.”
She clenches her jaw, but she doesn’t say anything else. Instead, she grabs her purse and keys and heads out into the hallway. When the door slams behind her, it rattles the hinges.
I sink down on my bed and flop onto my back, staring up at the ceiling once more. Maybe I’ll never find my place here.
I roll onto my side and stare at Charlie’s bed. It’s unmade, the comforter rumpled from where Charlie sat on it. Her belongings haven’t moved since the movers brought them this morning. Maybe she’s not unpacked yet as some form of protest. Though I don’t know her well, I can see her doing that.
Maybe she hates her parents as much as she hates me.
Keys jangle in the lock, and I sit bolt upright. Charlie rushes in, flushed and anxious. Speak of the devil.
“Forget something?”
“My phone.” She grabs it from her nightstand, pausing to look at the unpacked trunks. “You didn’t touch them, did you?”
If I weren’t so tired, I’d be offended. “Why would I do that?”
“Why would you touch my vial?” Charlie counters.
I bristle but don’t take the bait. I’m too tired to start any more fights with her. One of us needs to be the bigger person.
Charlie checks her latest-model phone, frowns down at something on the screen, and types something out. She mutters a curse. “Gods, I hate boys. They’re so stupid sometimes.”
Surely, she’s talking to herself, right? She can’t possibly be trying to strike up a conversation with me.
I don’t respond. After a second, her gaze flashes toward me, like she’s only just registered she said something to me, someone she hates.
“I’m sorry about your vial,” I say. “I didn’t mean—”
“Charlie!” Billie shouts from the hall.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” I continue.
“Don’t worry about it.” Charlie tucks the phone into her pocket and heads for the door. “Thank you.”
Once the door closes, I lie back on the bed. Despite the shitty day I’ve had, I feel a tinge of hope. Maybe Charlie and her friends will come around. If not, I can reach out to other girls, right?
tag list (let me know if you’d like to me removed/added): @lady-redshield-writes @smokescreens-n-otherillusions @cogwrites @nicholewrites @fireflys-locket
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orianaadecorpack · 2 years ago
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Heat Transfer Labels
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Heat Transfer Labels are extremely thin filmic labels that beautify any jar or container by transferring ink when heat and pressure are applied. Typically, the stationary, paint, oil, or chemical industries use heat transfer labels. The non-printed area is released off while the ink is transferred to the container wall using pressure and heat during the HTL process.
Highly economical; best used on items like pens, marker pens, paint buckets, etc.
Quick and simple application technique, extremely cost-effective application equipment.
We are able to compete with their quality standards in the market thanks to raw materials imported from Korean innovators.
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ippnoida · 4 years ago
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Twin brothers take over the management of Newtech Machines
Twin brothers (aged 27 years) - Ronak Panchal and Tarak Panchal have recently taken over the management of Newtech Machines, Valsad, India. They will continue the legacy left behind by the late Anup Panchal, founder of Newtech Machines, a renowned manufacturer of round screen printing and heat transfer label (HTL) printing machines. The company was founded by Anup Panchal, who died in 2018. Meanwhile, a new factory is being developed on a plot of land adjacent to the current factory, and it would be ready by 2020-21 to augment production. In a joint statement to the media, both Ronak and Tarak said, “As sons of a successful visionary businessman, we have a responsibility to take his legacy forward and write down our own success story.”
Both Ronak and Tarak are armed with a bachelor’s degree in mechanical engineering from California State University, Los Angeles, California, USA. The brothers, designated as directors, joined the company in July 2020.
Commenting on his new responsibility at such a young age, Ronak Panchal, director of Newtech Machines, says, “Since my childhood, I was motivated by my father, Anup Panchal. I had many other options, but I had in my mind that I wanted to become like my father. I witnessed his hard work and dedication to be a successful businessman. I was motivated by observing his successful career path. I want to expand my company, take it to another level. Also, I went to the USA for studies to gain practical knowledge so that I can bring American technologies to India. I did not think or have any other plan except printing. It is the only technology that fascinates me, so I am confident that no matter what, I would still choose printing as my career.”
Tarak Panchal, director of the company, adds, “I have a major interest in building machines, and I have learnt many new ideas in the United States. So I will develop new types of machines in the coming months.”
The twin brothers are of the view that a printing process of any kind – be it flat or round screen printing, heat transfer printing, offset or digital - is an important platform for brands to promote their product. “Printing technology has developed with time. Printing industry is growing and has a good market and increasing demand. Printing technology as an essential marketing medium, print technology continues to grow and plays a vital role in the decision-making process. The tactile nature of print stimulates the brain, sparking emotions. Not only can we see and feel its quality, but it acts as a visual representation of a brand and its values. Businesses can use this to their advantage to incorporate key elements of quality images, striking colours, and appealing visuals into their marketing materials to stand out and speak to audiences. And, with the growing demand for direct on product printing, round screen printing has a major role to play in various industries requiring to print on round surfaces, such as the paint industry. We are number one in the making of screen printing machines, and that motivates us to design and introduce few more new machines to meet the market requirements,” said Ronak Panchal and Tarak Panchal in a joint statement.
“The vendors of paint companies use Newtech Machine’s round screen printing equipment to directly screenprint on containers. The household goods manufacturers use our round screen printing machines to print on mugs, buckets, kitchen containers, boxes, tiffin boxes, shampoo bottles, and other products. These products often require 5-6 colours to be printed. The company has been maintaining its domestic/export ratio at 50:50. Newtech products are exported to Europe, UAE, some of the African countries, Nepal, Bangladesh, besides a strong presence in the domestic market,” said the newly appointed directors of Newtech Machines.
On their vision for the future of Newtech Machines, the twin brothers assert, “We want to expand our company and take it to another level. We want to bring more printing machines which save time and give more production. We want our customers to be completely satisfied. To meet this goal, we would like to design and manufacture more new printing machines of different types. We aim to offer the best quality machines and good service. We believe that our customers are kings, and customers’ loyalty can’t be taken for granted as they have a global choice. Over the years, we were able to maintain brand loyalty owing to the quality of machines and after-sales service, a legacy left behind by our beloved father.”
They conclude with optimism, “Round screen printing along with heat transfer technology is here to stay for a long time owing to a wide range of applications such as paints and household products. We are confident that our company will reach every corner of the world in a short span.”
Newtech Machines, an ISO 9001-2008 certified company, is a leader in round screen printing machines and heat transfer machines. The company, with its 20,000 square feet factory at Gundlav in GIDC, Valsad (Gujarat), serves the paint industry at large besides a strong presence in the household sector. Newtech screen printing and heat transfer machines are available for cylindrical as well as flat article printing. Newtech machines offer a complete range of printing machines to print on round, square, flat, and rectangular articles.
Its round screen printing machinery range includes semi-automatic universal screen printing machine for printing on cylindrical, square, and oval objects; semi-automatic crate screen printing machine; fully automatic mechanical screen printing machine for printing on round articles; fully automatic mechanical screen printing machine for printing on round articles; 2 color automatic screen printing machine with online flame treatment and IR / UV Dryer; 3 + 1 color automatic screen printing machine for printing on soft drink glass bottles. Its heat transfer label (HTL) segment includes heat transfer machine for flat product; basic and advanced machines suitable to print round, conical, and flat articles; automatic mechanical hot foil transfer machine for pen barrels and cosmetic containers.
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tabletoptrinketsbyjj · 7 years ago
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Trinkets, 14: Interesting baubles, semi magical objects and items touched by mystery.
A bag of one-hundred glass marbles; ninety-nine are white and the other is black
A battered leather scroll tube containing sketches of several individuals in suggestive poses. Every subject has a profoundly sad or scared look on their face. The sketches, however, were obviously rendered by a skilled artist.
A bead curtain with dozens of strings made to fit a standard sized door. Anyone paying attention will notice the beads are actually human finger bones.  
A glass bead that glows faintly, but not enough to see or read by.
A beautiful hand crossbow that is missing its string, making it useless as a weapon. Runes etched into its handle proclaim its owner to be Eilserk Estreval.
A belt pouch that has a hidden compartment sewn into the lining.
A bent holy symbol of a minor god of a Random Evil Domain crafted from blackest obsidian.
A black executioner’s hood
A black glass bottle that becomes transparent when the full moon shines on it. The moonlight reveals fine etchings that form a pirate treasure map
A black rock with blue cracks that’s always vibrating.
---Keep reading for 90 more trinkets.
---Note: The previous 10 items are repeated for easier rolling on a d100.
A bag of one-hundred glass marbles; ninety-nine are white and the other is black
A battered leather scroll tube containing sketches of several individuals in suggestive poses. Every subject has a profoundly sad or scared look on their face. The sketches, however, were obviously rendered by a skilled artist.
A bead curtain with dozens of strings made to fit a standard sized door. Anyone paying attention will notice the beads are actually human finger bones.  
A glass bead that glows faintly, but not enough to see or read by.
A beautiful hand crossbow that is missing its string, making it useless as a weapon. Runes etched into its handle proclaim its owner to be Eilserk Estreval.
A belt pouch that has a hidden compartment sewn into the lining.
A bent holy symbol of a minor god of a Random Evil Domain crafted from blackest obsidian.
A black executioner’s hood
A black glass bottle that becomes transparent when the full moon shines on it. The moonlight reveals fine etchings that form a pirate treasure map
A black rock with blue cracks that’s always vibrating.
A black velvet bag containing 13 bronze coins of outdated denominations
A black velvet cloth inlaid with golden thread wrapped around a dried and perfectly preserved red rose. The rose’s thorns are yet sharp and its flower emits a particular heady scent.
A black wooden pipe that creates puffs of smoke that look like skulls
A magically preserved blue rose that never wilts but is cold to the touch.
A dark glass bottle containing 12 large, green pills that, when swallowed, causes the user to burp puffs of sparkling glitter for 1d4 hours.
A bouncy ball made of a strange spongy wood
A box containing a mold for a cast iron key
A box containing a dozen bandages which, when applied to fresh wounds, enhance the size and permanence of scars that will form from them. In addition they function as regular bandages.
A brass brazier engraved with holy symbols of a number of evil gods
A brass doorknocker shaped like a grumpy old man’s face.
A brass-colored disc that occasionally bounces up onto its edge and spins several times before falling over again.
A bronze coin that bears the profile of the “Baroness of Kidnappers”. Knowledgeable PC’s will recognize the coin as black-market currency that’s accepted by some criminals in return for illicit good and services.
A hand sized bronze statuette of a huntress with dogs at her feet. One eye socket is vacant and the other contains a glimmering opal. Touching the statue makes the user see strange lands with their left eye as the statuette’s mouth opens and closes.
A button that, when pressed, makes a weird animal sound.
A wooden box containing a dozen candles whose flames burn a Random Colour
A candle whose flame produces no heat nor can it be extinguished or transfer its flame. It burns continuously for one hour.
A canvas poster for an arena fight featuring the Orc, Ragnar Savage
A scroll tube containing a care-worn love letter the bearer has read and refolded so many times it is starting to fall apart. The signature at the bottom is smeared and impossible to read. The letter explains the parting of a human (Most likely the bard) and their elven lover. The elf believed the relationship was doomed because of the tragically short life span of humans and refused to commit to such a short relationship.
An intricately carved wooden juju stick
An intricately carved wooden shaman mask
A carved wooden stand holds two exquisitely crafted quill pens along with a small bottle of black ink.
A ceramic bucket which, when filled with water, slowly empties to somewhere else.
A painted ceramic eye that turns and looks at the closest person to it.
An infant’s ceramic rattle containing human teeth
A child’s music box that can be cranked by hand.
A clockwork hand that clenches and opens its fist when wound
A collapsible fishing pole that quivers slightly when baited with a line in the water in order to attract fish
A compact steel folding shovel
A black leather bag containing a compact set of used torture implements.
A compass that appears to be in remarkably good condition. However, it seems someone played a cruel joke on the any poor soul whose life relied on it. The compass spins wildly at random, for random periods of time, hampering any attempt at navigation.
A cook’s apron with infernal script on the front
A copper scroll case that cannot be opened
A crude map of the local area depicting the locations of several hidden caches of equipment for someone’s personal use. It’s plausible they represent emergency fallback positions in case the mapmaker was forced to flee suddenly.
A crude map of the local area showing all villages and towns. Several other locations are marked on the map. These either depict good, well-hidden spots to camp or the locations of permanent outposts manned by unknown forces
A rock that, when handled, seems to crumble along the edges until it is worn down to a perfect resemblance of a human heart. When set down, it immediately returns to its original, featureless state
A crudely sketched floor-plan of a nearby garrison. Notes detail several possible scenarios to surreptitiously gain entrance.
A cut obsidian chalice
A magically preserved daisy chain that is incapable of being broken.
A deck of playing cards that contains 52 Jokers, each individually illustrated
A decorative key that looks like a dragon
A decorative wood and silver tankard
A disc of some sort of transparent material. Holding it up to your eye reveals a multitude of labels which it applies to everything you look at through the disc. Sadly, the language keeps shifting from one set of symbols to the next, and never one which is known.
A dismembered tongue that, when held, waggles and tries to lick the person holding it.
A doctor’s black medical travel bag
A dozen feathers from an extinct species of bird, bound by their quills with copper wire
A wooden box containing a dozen normal looking candles. However, when lit and continuing until extinguished, these candles will give off an aroma that at first seems soothing but within a minute or two will start to irritate the eyes of all those nearby
A dozen rings seamlessly joined together, each of which can be tapped to produce a musical tone.
A pouch containing a dozen small semi-circular stones worn perfectly smooth. An esoteric rune depicting various types of magic adorns each stone.
A small wooden box containing a dozen sticks of incense which, when burned, changes in scents. They begin with the rich odor of fine cooked victuals and then slowly sour to the stink of decay.
A dried human tongue branded with a rune. It means “liar” to anyone who can read the abyssal, the language of demons.
A driftwood cup that makes water taste salty.
A egg-shaped metallic bauble that occasionally spins and speaks in a language no one knows.
A fine ceramic plate
A fish skeleton, tied together with thin wires.
A fist sized stone with a miniature sword stabbed deep into it.
A fist-sized lump of mottled grey and brown stone that appears to have been melted by some form of intense heat. Dried “waves” have flowed down the stone’s flanks before hardening. The stone is the only surviving fragment of an elder earth elemental, petrified by a vile enchantment long ago. A fragment of the elemental’s sentience lurks within.
A fist-sized pyramid of felt-like substance that pulses slowly but steadily.
A lichen spotted stone box containing a fistful of obviously ancient triangular bronze coins green with verdigris. Patterns on one side of the coin are suggestive of tentacles, but the coins are too worn to discern any appreciable details.
A flamboyant, wide-brimmed blue hat with a giant golden eagle’s feather stuck in the band.
A flowing river contained within a glass case
A flute carved from brilliant white ash
A flute carved from rich-colored wood
A folding pocket knife
A freshly-excavated humanoid skeleton the size of a hand
A fuzzy toy animal that seems to repel any dirt.
A game of dominoes in a small leather case
A human femur made of glass
A glass bottle that spins and points to the same place when left alone
A glass cube with a preserved eye in the center
A glass disk that displays images of a different plane.
A glass flute that produces no sound
A glass jar containing the preserved ear of a night hag in embalming fluid. If exposed to starlight, it causes those nearby to hear the faint sound of children wailing
A glass jar filled with the teeth of children
A glass jar full of pickled eyes
A glass jar full of weightless sand.
A glass lamp with a tiny star suspended inside
A glass plate that shows an aerial view of a city that no one’s ever seen.
A pink apron with “Seasoned adventurers have better taste!” written on it.
A goblet, when filled with clear liquid, reveals at the bottom of the cup an image of a sea floor with a treasure chest overflowing with gold coins.
A gold colored, weightless, egg shaped object.
A gorgerine of alternating bone and metal discs aligned in columns that ascend in size from top to bottom.
A green leather pouch full of berries that never rot
A hand carved wooden box filled with tobacco
A hand mirror backed with a bronze depiction of a gorgon
A large sack containing a half dozen pewter goblets along with three empty wineskins
A hand mirror that only shows what the bearer looks like from behind.
A hand puppet that strongly resembles one of the PC’s
A hand sized bell with no clapper that still rings
A handful of fine gold dust wrapped up in a parchment sealed with red wax.
A drawstring pouch containing a handful of heavy iron coins that are stamped on one side with a fist grasping a warhammer and on the other with the head of a bald, but bearded, dwarf.
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eddiejpoplar · 6 years ago
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Quick Take: 2018 Mercedes-AMG E63 S First Edition
MALIBU, California — The last time I drove a Mercedes E63 AMG was about 10 years ago, before there was even a Mercedes-AMG. It was a blue station wagon complete with roof rack and seven seats, cream-colored leather interior, AARP-grade wood trim—and AMG’s wicked 6.2-liter 507-hp V-8 lurking under hood. It was the ultimate sleeper, both visually and experientially, conducting itself with all the grace and poise of an E-Class until you floored the accelerator—at which time it would rocket forward, exhaust blaring loud enough to drown out a Manowar concert, while the cops in the vicinity gave themselves whiplash trying to find the Challenger, Camaro, or Mustang making all that noise.
The 2018 Mercedes-AMG E63 S First Edition is nearly the exact opposite. It’s a sedan, with bulging bodywork finished in matte-black paint. The dash and doors are slathered in carbon-fiber trim. The rock-hard racing seats are wrapped in ebony leather, as is the bulk of the dash, all highlighted with miles of bright-yellow contrast stitching. It’s the sort of interior a billionaire bumblebee might commission.
And the hardware under the hood is brilliant: A 4.0-liter V-8 with a pair of turbochargers that boost it up to 603 hp. I thought I’d miss the big cubes of the old E63, but no, no, no—not only is this one faster (0-60 in 3.3 seconds, says Mercedes-AMG; our colleagues down the hall at Motor Trend timed it at 3.2), but it’s just as loud and every bit as brutal.
The all-wheel-drive E63 S’s nine-speed automatic uses an automated clutch in place of a torque converter in order to maximize the engine’s face-flattening potential. One of the most significant improvements to this all-new version is the easy-to-use launch mode. The outgoing E63 required an incomprehensible sequence of button-pushing and paddle-pulling, but the new car makes it simple: Turn the drive-mode controller to Race, push the brake pedal to the floor, and mat the accelerator. Release the brake, hang on tight, and start thinking up excuses to give the police.
What I’d been told about new the E63 S was that, unlike the older iteration I drove, it wasn’t just a straight-line muscle car. So I made a beeline for my favorite twisty canyon roads, and while the ride out there was miserable—more on that shortly—the drive in the curves was exhilarating. I wish I could give you an Andy Pilgrim-like report of which corners are underdamped and which tires were showing signs of heating up first, but the bald-faced truth is that I pushed the hot-rod Mercedes as fast as I dared on the roads I know best, and the most I could eke out was a wee bit of understeer and a sympathetic screeching from the tires (and I’m pretty sure they were only doing that to make me feel better).
I did get the rear end to step out once, and this required a particularly sharp turn, glass-smooth pavement, and the willingness to soil a perfectly good pair of trousers. It was obvious that however fast I wanted to go, the Mercedes was happy to go faster. With the fear factor approaching a level I’ve not experienced since my high school girlfriend told me a certain recurring biological event had not shown up on its anticipated schedule, I eased back my speed a bit, opened the windows, and enjoyed the lovely burbling and backfiring of the exhaust as it echoed off the canyon walls.
I came away with two key takeaways about the E63 S (I dare not label them as problems, as a better driver might disagree). First was a tendency for the stability control system to trip a little early. Of the three performance driving modes—Sport, Sport Plus, and Race—only the latter uses the stability control’s performance program. Fire into a corner too fast (a bad habit of mine) and it’s easy to trigger just a smidge of understeer, but that smidge is enough to cause the ESC system to dial back the power. Selecting Race mode solved the problem, and those smidges never developed into anything bigger; still, what with the cliff walls on one side and drop-offs on the other, I’d prefer something in the middle between full-on nanny and a liberally-minded track program. This is as good a place as any to note that the E63 S also has a Drift mode, which sends 100 percent of the engine’s power to the rear wheels and requires stability control to be switched fully off. I didn’t dare.
Issue No. 2 is the E63 S is hyper-responsive, as a racing-inspired street car should be, but unless you’re super-smooth on the controls, it’s easy to feed in a bit too much steering, gas, or brake. This has always been a challenge for me, and my early progress up some of the twistier bits was far jerkier than I would care to admit. Good thing I was well within the car’s prodigious handling envelope; goodness knows what my less-than-ideal technique was doing for weight transfer.
Still, despite the fact that it highlighted some of my poorer driving habits, I found the E63 S to be a grin-generating thrill ride. My takeaway from a day of challenging the laws of both traffic and physics is that the E63 S really is a supercar masquerading as a sedan—which makes the $105,000 price tag seem like tremendous value for money.
But as a daily commuter, it’s pretty rough.
The problem with the E63 S is that it drives in tuned-up mode all the time. The steering is heavy enough to fatigue your arms. The suspension merely takes the edge off of sharper bumps, as if it was fulfilling the minimum standards of care required by law but refusing to do anything else. And the seats—don’t even get me started. The front buckets are meanly padded and rock hard, and I spent the better part of my day trying, and failing, to find a comfortable adjustment. In all fairness, seat comfort was less of an issue after my hot-rod curvy-road drive, but that may have been afterglow—or perhaps the forces of acceleration had temporarily remolded my spine to the seat’s unforgiving contours.
Were I reading this review instead of writing it, I suspect I’d be screaming at the screen right about now: “If it drives like a supercar, of course it rides like crap!” Fair point—but this is a German supercar, and furthermore it’s got an air suspension and electric power steering. I submit that AMG’s engineers could have made the car just as talented in Sport and Race modes while providing a “Comfort” mode that was actually comfortable. They could have turned up the power-steering boost. They could have softened the ride. They could have put just a wee bit more padding in the seats.
But they didn’t.
The E63 S is harsher than it needs to be in its tamest setting, a little less comfortable, a little more tedious to drive to the office. It’s as if the engineers are jealous of your ability to afford this amazing car, and were determined to punish you for it.
In an ideal world, I would own a Mercedes-AMG E63 S. I would have it waiting at the foot of my favorite curvy canyon road, engine warmed up, in Race mode—primed and ready for attack. And in that same ideal world, I’d have a 10-year-old E63 wagon to commute between my house and the car.
2018 Mercedes-AMG E63 S Specifications
ON SALE Now PRICE $105,395/$145,160 (base/as tested) ENGINE 4.0L twin-turbocharged DOHC 32-valve V-8/603 hp @ 5,750-6,500 rpm, 627 lb-ft @ 2,500-4,500 rpm TRANSMISSION 9-speed automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, AWD sedan EPA MILEAGE 15/22 mpg (city/hwy) L x W x H 196.4 x 81.3 x 56.6 in WHEELBASE 115.7 in WEIGHT 4,515 lb 0-60 MPH 3.3 sec TOP SPEED 186 mph
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jesusvasser · 6 years ago
Text
Quick Take: 2018 Mercedes-AMG E63 S First Edition
MALIBU, California — The last time I drove a Mercedes E63 AMG was about 10 years ago, before there was even a Mercedes-AMG. It was a blue station wagon complete with roof rack and seven seats, cream-colored leather interior, AARP-grade wood trim—and AMG’s wicked 6.2-liter 507-hp V-8 lurking under hood. It was the ultimate sleeper, both visually and experientially, conducting itself with all the grace and poise of an E-Class until you floored the accelerator—at which time it would rocket forward, exhaust blaring loud enough to drown out a Manowar concert, while the cops in the vicinity gave themselves whiplash trying to find the Challenger, Camaro, or Mustang making all that noise.
The 2018 Mercedes-AMG E63 S First Edition is nearly the exact opposite. It’s a sedan, with bulging bodywork finished in matte-black paint. The dash and doors are slathered in carbon-fiber trim. The rock-hard racing seats are wrapped in ebony leather, as is the bulk of the dash, all highlighted with miles of bright-yellow contrast stitching. It’s the sort of interior a billionaire bumblebee might commission.
And the hardware under the hood is brilliant: A 4.0-liter V-8 with a pair of turbochargers that boost it up to 603 hp. I thought I’d miss the big cubes of the old E63, but no, no, no—not only is this one faster (0-60 in 3.3 seconds, says Mercedes-AMG; our colleagues down the hall at Motor Trend timed it at 3.2), but it’s just as loud and every bit as brutal.
The all-wheel-drive E63 S’s nine-speed automatic uses an automated clutch in place of a torque converter in order to maximize the engine’s face-flattening potential. One of the most significant improvements to this all-new version is the easy-to-use launch mode. The outgoing E63 required an incomprehensible sequence of button-pushing and paddle-pulling, but the new car makes it simple: Turn the drive-mode controller to Race, push the brake pedal to the floor, and mat the accelerator. Release the brake, hang on tight, and start thinking up excuses to give the police.
What I’d been told about new the E63 S was that, unlike the older iteration I drove, it wasn’t just a straight-line muscle car. So I made a beeline for my favorite twisty canyon roads, and while the ride out there was miserable—more on that shortly—the drive in the curves was exhilarating. I wish I could give you an Andy Pilgrim-like report of which corners are underdamped and which tires were showing signs of heating up first, but the bald-faced truth is that I pushed the hot-rod Mercedes as fast as I dared on the roads I know best, and the most I could eke out was a wee bit of understeer and a sympathetic screeching from the tires (and I’m pretty sure they were only doing that to make me feel better).
I did get the rear end to step out once, and this required a particularly sharp turn, glass-smooth pavement, and the willingness to soil a perfectly good pair of trousers. It was obvious that however fast I wanted to go, the Mercedes was happy to go faster. With the fear factor approaching a level I’ve not experienced since my high school girlfriend told me a certain recurring biological event had not shown up on its anticipated schedule, I eased back my speed a bit, opened the windows, and enjoyed the lovely burbling and backfiring of the exhaust as it echoed off the canyon walls.
I came away with two key takeaways about the E63 S (I dare not label them as problems, as a better driver might disagree). First was a tendency for the stability control system to trip a little early. Of the three performance driving modes—Sport, Sport Plus, and Race—only the latter uses the stability control’s performance program. Fire into a corner too fast (a bad habit of mine) and it’s easy to trigger just a smidge of understeer, but that smidge is enough to cause the ESC system to dial back the power. Selecting Race mode solved the problem, and those smidges never developed into anything bigger; still, what with the cliff walls on one side and drop-offs on the other, I’d prefer something in the middle between full-on nanny and a liberally-minded track program. This is as good a place as any to note that the E63 S also has a Drift mode, which sends 100 percent of the engine’s power to the rear wheels and requires stability control to be switched fully off. I didn’t dare.
Issue No. 2 is the E63 S is hyper-responsive, as a racing-inspired street car should be, but unless you’re super-smooth on the controls, it’s easy to feed in a bit too much steering, gas, or brake. This has always been a challenge for me, and my early progress up some of the twistier bits was far jerkier than I would care to admit. Good thing I was well within the car’s prodigious handling envelope; goodness knows what my less-than-ideal technique was doing for weight transfer.
Still, despite the fact that it highlighted some of my poorer driving habits, I found the E63 S to be a grin-generating thrill ride. My takeaway from a day of challenging the laws of both traffic and physics is that the E63 S really is a supercar masquerading as a sedan—which makes the $105,000 price tag seem like tremendous value for money.
But as a daily commuter, it’s pretty rough.
The problem with the E63 S is that it drives in tuned-up mode all the time. The steering is heavy enough to fatigue your arms. The suspension merely takes the edge off of sharper bumps, as if it was fulfilling the minimum standards of care required by law but refusing to do anything else. And the seats—don’t even get me started. The front buckets are meanly padded and rock hard, and I spent the better part of my day trying, and failing, to find a comfortable adjustment. In all fairness, seat comfort was less of an issue after my hot-rod curvy-road drive, but that may have been afterglow—or perhaps the forces of acceleration had temporarily remolded my spine to the seat’s unforgiving contours.
Were I reading this review instead of writing it, I suspect I’d be screaming at the screen right about now: “If it drives like a supercar, of course it rides like crap!” Fair point—but this is a German supercar, and furthermore it’s got an air suspension and electric power steering. I submit that AMG’s engineers could have made the car just as talented in Sport and Race modes while providing a “Comfort” mode that was actually comfortable. They could have turned up the power-steering boost. They could have softened the ride. They could have put just a wee bit more padding in the seats.
But they didn’t.
The E63 S is harsher than it needs to be in its tamest setting, a little less comfortable, a little more tedious to drive to the office. It’s as if the engineers are jealous of your ability to afford this amazing car, and were determined to punish you for it.
In an ideal world, I would own a Mercedes-AMG E63 S. I would have it waiting at the foot of my favorite curvy canyon road, engine warmed up, in Race mode—primed and ready for attack. And in that same ideal world, I’d have a 10-year-old E63 wagon to commute between my house and the car.
2018 Mercedes-AMG E63 S Specifications
ON SALE Now PRICE $105,395/$145,160 (base/as tested) ENGINE 4.0L twin-turbocharged DOHC 32-valve V-8/603 hp @ 5,750-6,500 rpm, 627 lb-ft @ 2,500-4,500 rpm TRANSMISSION 9-speed automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, AWD sedan EPA MILEAGE 15/22 mpg (city/hwy) L x W x H 196.4 x 81.3 x 56.6 in WHEELBASE 115.7 in WEIGHT 4,515 lb 0-60 MPH 3.3 sec TOP SPEED 186 mph
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jonathanbelloblog · 6 years ago
Text
Quick Take: 2018 Mercedes-AMG E63 S First Edition
MALIBU, California — The last time I drove a Mercedes E63 AMG was about 10 years ago, before there was even a Mercedes-AMG. It was a blue station wagon complete with roof rack and seven seats, cream-colored leather interior, AARP-grade wood trim—and AMG’s wicked 6.2-liter 507-hp V-8 lurking under hood. It was the ultimate sleeper, both visually and experientially, conducting itself with all the grace and poise of an E-Class until you floored the accelerator—at which time it would rocket forward, exhaust blaring loud enough to drown out a Manowar concert, while the cops in the vicinity gave themselves whiplash trying to find the Challenger, Camaro, or Mustang making all that noise.
The 2018 Mercedes-AMG E63 S First Edition is nearly the exact opposite. It’s a sedan, with bulging bodywork finished in matte-black paint. The dash and doors are slathered in carbon-fiber trim. The rock-hard racing seats are wrapped in ebony leather, as is the bulk of the dash, all highlighted with miles of bright-yellow contrast stitching. It’s the sort of interior a billionaire bumblebee might commission.
And the hardware under the hood is brilliant: A 4.0-liter V-8 with a pair of turbochargers that boost it up to 603 hp. I thought I’d miss the big cubes of the old E63, but no, no, no—not only is this one faster (0-60 in 3.3 seconds, says Mercedes-AMG; our colleagues down the hall at Motor Trend timed it at 3.2), but it’s just as loud and every bit as brutal.
The all-wheel-drive E63 S’s nine-speed automatic uses an automated clutch in place of a torque converter in order to maximize the engine’s face-flattening potential. One of the most significant improvements to this all-new version is the easy-to-use launch mode. The outgoing E63 required an incomprehensible sequence of button-pushing and paddle-pulling, but the new car makes it simple: Turn the drive-mode controller to Race, push the brake pedal to the floor, and mat the accelerator. Release the brake, hang on tight, and start thinking up excuses to give the police.
What I’d been told about new the E63 S was that, unlike the older iteration I drove, it wasn’t just a straight-line muscle car. So I made a beeline for my favorite twisty canyon roads, and while the ride out there was miserable—more on that shortly—the drive in the curves was exhilarating. I wish I could give you an Andy Pilgrim-like report of which corners are underdamped and which tires were showing signs of heating up first, but the bald-faced truth is that I pushed the hot-rod Mercedes as fast as I dared on the roads I know best, and the most I could eke out was a wee bit of understeer and a sympathetic screeching from the tires (and I’m pretty sure they were only doing that to make me feel better).
I did get the rear end to step out once, and this required a particularly sharp turn, glass-smooth pavement, and the willingness to soil a perfectly good pair of trousers. It was obvious that however fast I wanted to go, the Mercedes was happy to go faster. With the fear factor approaching a level I’ve not experienced since my high school girlfriend told me a certain recurring biological event had not shown up on its anticipated schedule, I eased back my speed a bit, opened the windows, and enjoyed the lovely burbling and backfiring of the exhaust as it echoed off the canyon walls.
I came away with two key takeaways about the E63 S (I dare not label them as problems, as a better driver might disagree). First was a tendency for the stability control system to trip a little early. Of the three performance driving modes—Sport, Sport Plus, and Race—only the latter uses the stability control’s performance program. Fire into a corner too fast (a bad habit of mine) and it’s easy to trigger just a smidge of understeer, but that smidge is enough to cause the ESC system to dial back the power. Selecting Race mode solved the problem, and those smidges never developed into anything bigger; still, what with the cliff walls on one side and drop-offs on the other, I’d prefer something in the middle between full-on nanny and a liberally-minded track program. This is as good a place as any to note that the E63 S also has a Drift mode, which sends 100 percent of the engine’s power to the rear wheels and requires stability control to be switched fully off. I didn’t dare.
Issue No. 2 is the E63 S is hyper-responsive, as a racing-inspired street car should be, but unless you’re super-smooth on the controls, it’s easy to feed in a bit too much steering, gas, or brake. This has always been a challenge for me, and my early progress up some of the twistier bits was far jerkier than I would care to admit. Good thing I was well within the car’s prodigious handling envelope; goodness knows what my less-than-ideal technique was doing for weight transfer.
Still, despite the fact that it highlighted some of my poorer driving habits, I found the E63 S to be a grin-generating thrill ride. My takeaway from a day of challenging the laws of both traffic and physics is that the E63 S really is a supercar masquerading as a sedan—which makes the $105,000 price tag seem like tremendous value for money.
But as a daily commuter, it’s pretty rough.
The problem with the E63 S is that it drives in tuned-up mode all the time. The steering is heavy enough to fatigue your arms. The suspension merely takes the edge off of sharper bumps, as if it was fulfilling the minimum standards of care required by law but refusing to do anything else. And the seats—don’t even get me started. The front buckets are meanly padded and rock hard, and I spent the better part of my day trying, and failing, to find a comfortable adjustment. In all fairness, seat comfort was less of an issue after my hot-rod curvy-road drive, but that may have been afterglow—or perhaps the forces of acceleration had temporarily remolded my spine to the seat’s unforgiving contours.
Were I reading this review instead of writing it, I suspect I’d be screaming at the screen right about now: “If it drives like a supercar, of course it rides like crap!” Fair point—but this is a German supercar, and furthermore it’s got an air suspension and electric power steering. I submit that AMG’s engineers could have made the car just as talented in Sport and Race modes while providing a “Comfort” mode that was actually comfortable. They could have turned up the power-steering boost. They could have softened the ride. They could have put just a wee bit more padding in the seats.
But they didn’t.
The E63 S is harsher than it needs to be in its tamest setting, a little less comfortable, a little more tedious to drive to the office. It’s as if the engineers are jealous of your ability to afford this amazing car, and were determined to punish you for it.
In an ideal world, I would own a Mercedes-AMG E63 S. I would have it waiting at the foot of my favorite curvy canyon road, engine warmed up, in Race mode—primed and ready for attack. And in that same ideal world, I’d have a 10-year-old E63 wagon to commute between my house and the car.
2018 Mercedes-AMG E63 S Specifications
ON SALE Now PRICE $105,395/$145,160 (base/as tested) ENGINE 4.0L twin-turbocharged DOHC 32-valve V-8/603 hp @ 5,750-6,500 rpm, 627 lb-ft @ 2,500-4,500 rpm TRANSMISSION 9-speed automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, AWD sedan EPA MILEAGE 15/22 mpg (city/hwy) L x W x H 196.4 x 81.3 x 56.6 in WHEELBASE 115.7 in WEIGHT 4,515 lb 0-60 MPH 3.3 sec TOP SPEED 186 mph
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eddiejpoplar · 6 years ago
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Quick Take: 2018 Mercedes-AMG E63 S First Edition
MALIBU, California — The last time I drove a Mercedes E63 AMG was about 10 years ago, before there was even a Mercedes-AMG. It was a blue station wagon complete with roof rack and seven seats, cream-colored leather interior, AARP-grade wood trim—and AMG’s wicked 6.2-liter 507-hp V-8 lurking under hood. It was the ultimate sleeper, both visually and experientially, conducting itself with all the grace and poise of an E-Class until you floored the accelerator—at which time it would rocket forward, exhaust blaring loud enough to drown out a Manowar concert, while the cops in the vicinity gave themselves whiplash trying to find the Challenger, Camaro, or Mustang making all that noise.
The 2018 Mercedes-AMG E63 S First Edition is nearly the exact opposite. It’s a sedan, with bulging bodywork finished in matte-black paint. The dash and doors are slathered in carbon-fiber trim. The rock-hard racing seats are wrapped in ebony leather, as is the bulk of the dash, all highlighted with miles of bright-yellow contrast stitching. It’s the sort of interior a billionaire bumblebee might commission.
And the hardware under the hood is brilliant: A 4.0-liter V-8 with a pair of turbochargers that boost it up to 603 hp. I thought I’d miss the big cubes of the old E63, but no, no, no—not only is this one faster (0-60 in 3.3 seconds, says Mercedes-AMG; our colleagues down the hall at Motor Trend timed it at 3.2), but it’s just as loud and every bit as brutal.
The all-wheel-drive E63 S’s nine-speed automatic uses an automated clutch in place of a torque converter in order to maximize the engine’s face-flattening potential. One of the most significant improvements to this all-new version is the easy-to-use launch mode. The outgoing E63 required an incomprehensible sequence of button-pushing and paddle-pulling, but the new car makes it simple: Turn the drive-mode controller to Race, push the brake pedal to the floor, and mat the accelerator. Release the brake, hang on tight, and start thinking up excuses to give the police.
What I’d been told about new the E63 S was that, unlike the older iteration I drove, it wasn’t just a straight-line muscle car. So I made a beeline for my favorite twisty canyon roads, and while the ride out there was miserable—more on that shortly—the drive in the curves was exhilarating. I wish I could give you an Andy Pilgrim-like report of which corners are underdamped and which tires were showing signs of heating up first, but the bald-faced truth is that I pushed the hot-rod Mercedes as fast as I dared on the roads I know best, and the most I could eke out was a wee bit of understeer and a sympathetic screeching from the tires (and I’m pretty sure they were only doing that to make me feel better).
I did get the rear end to step out once, and this required a particularly sharp turn, glass-smooth pavement, and the willingness to soil a perfectly good pair of trousers. It was obvious that however fast I wanted to go, the Mercedes was happy to go faster. With the fear factor approaching a level I’ve not experienced since my high school girlfriend told me a certain recurring biological event had not shown up on its anticipated schedule, I eased back my speed a bit, opened the windows, and enjoyed the lovely burbling and backfiring of the exhaust as it echoed off the canyon walls.
I came away with two key takeaways about the E63 S (I dare not label them as problems, as a better driver might disagree). First was a tendency for the stability control system to trip a little early. Of the three performance driving modes—Sport, Sport Plus, and Race—only the latter uses the stability control’s performance program. Fire into a corner too fast (a bad habit of mine) and it’s easy to trigger just a smidge of understeer, but that smidge is enough to cause the ESC system to dial back the power. Selecting Race mode solved the problem, and those smidges never developed into anything bigger; still, what with the cliff walls on one side and drop-offs on the other, I’d prefer something in the middle between full-on nanny and a liberally-minded track program. This is as good a place as any to note that the E63 S also has a Drift mode, which sends 100 percent of the engine’s power to the rear wheels and requires stability control to be switched fully off. I didn’t dare.
Issue No. 2 is the E63 S is hyper-responsive, as a racing-inspired street car should be, but unless you’re super-smooth on the controls, it’s easy to feed in a bit too much steering, gas, or brake. This has always been a challenge for me, and my early progress up some of the twistier bits was far jerkier than I would care to admit. Good thing I was well within the car’s prodigious handling envelope; goodness knows what my less-than-ideal technique was doing for weight transfer.
Still, despite the fact that it highlighted some of my poorer driving habits, I found the E63 S to be a grin-generating thrill ride. My takeaway from a day of challenging the laws of both traffic and physics is that the E63 S really is a supercar masquerading as a sedan—which makes the $105,000 price tag seem like tremendous value for money.
But as a daily commuter, it’s pretty rough.
The problem with the E63 S is that it drives in tuned-up mode all the time. The steering is heavy enough to fatigue your arms. The suspension merely takes the edge off of sharper bumps, as if it was fulfilling the minimum standards of care required by law but refusing to do anything else. And the seats—don’t even get me started. The front buckets are meanly padded and rock hard, and I spent the better part of my day trying, and failing, to find a comfortable adjustment. In all fairness, seat comfort was less of an issue after my hot-rod curvy-road drive, but that may have been afterglow—or perhaps the forces of acceleration had temporarily remolded my spine to the seat’s unforgiving contours.
Were I reading this review instead of writing it, I suspect I’d be screaming at the screen right about now: “If it drives like a supercar, of course it rides like crap!” Fair point—but this is a German supercar, and furthermore it’s got an air suspension and electric power steering. I submit that AMG’s engineers could have made the car just as talented in Sport and Race modes while providing a “Comfort” mode that was actually comfortable. They could have turned up the power-steering boost. They could have softened the ride. They could have put just a wee bit more padding in the seats.
But they didn’t.
The E63 S is harsher than it needs to be in its tamest setting, a little less comfortable, a little more tedious to drive to the office. It’s as if the engineers are jealous of your ability to afford this amazing car, and were determined to punish you for it.
In an ideal world, I would own a Mercedes-AMG E63 S. I would have it waiting at the foot of my favorite curvy canyon road, engine warmed up, in Race mode—primed and ready for attack. And in that same ideal world, I’d have a 10-year-old E63 wagon to commute between my house and the car.
2018 Mercedes-AMG E63 S Specifications
ON SALE Now PRICE $105,395/$145,160 (base/as tested) ENGINE 4.0L twin-turbocharged DOHC 32-valve V-8/603 hp @ 5,750-6,500 rpm, 627 lb-ft @ 2,500-4,500 rpm TRANSMISSION 9-speed automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, AWD sedan EPA MILEAGE 15/22 mpg (city/hwy) L x W x H 196.4 x 81.3 x 56.6 in WHEELBASE 115.7 in WEIGHT 4,515 lb 0-60 MPH 3.3 sec TOP SPEED 186 mph
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jonathanbelloblog · 6 years ago
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Quick Take: 2018 Mercedes-AMG E63 S First Edition
MALIBU, California — The last time I drove a Mercedes E63 AMG was about 10 years ago, before there was even a Mercedes-AMG. It was a blue station wagon complete with roof rack and seven seats, cream-colored leather interior, AARP-grade wood trim—and AMG’s wicked 6.2-liter 507-hp V-8 lurking under hood. It was the ultimate sleeper, both visually and experientially, conducting itself with all the grace and poise of an E-Class until you floored the accelerator—at which time it would rocket forward, exhaust blaring loud enough to drown out a Manowar concert, while the cops in the vicinity gave themselves whiplash trying to find the Challenger, Camaro, or Mustang making all that noise.
The 2018 Mercedes-AMG E63 S First Edition is nearly the exact opposite. It’s a sedan, with bulging bodywork finished in matte-black paint. The dash and doors are slathered in carbon-fiber trim. The rock-hard racing seats are wrapped in ebony leather, as is the bulk of the dash, all highlighted with miles of bright-yellow contrast stitching. It’s the sort of interior a billionaire bumblebee might commission.
And the hardware under the hood is brilliant: A 4.0-liter V-8 with a pair of turbochargers that boost it up to 603 hp. I thought I’d miss the big cubes of the old E63, but no, no, no—not only is this one faster (0-60 in 3.3 seconds, says Mercedes-AMG; our colleagues down the hall at Motor Trend timed it at 3.2), but it’s just as loud and every bit as brutal.
The all-wheel-drive E63 S’s nine-speed automatic uses an automated clutch in place of a torque converter in order to maximize the engine’s face-flattening potential. One of the most significant improvements to this all-new version is the easy-to-use launch mode. The outgoing E63 required an incomprehensible sequence of button-pushing and paddle-pulling, but the new car makes it simple: Turn the drive-mode controller to Race, push the brake pedal to the floor, and mat the accelerator. Release the brake, hang on tight, and start thinking up excuses to give the police.
What I’d been told about new the E63 S was that, unlike the older iteration I drove, it wasn’t just a straight-line muscle car. So I made a beeline for my favorite twisty canyon roads, and while the ride out there was miserable—more on that shortly—the drive in the curves was exhilarating. I wish I could give you an Andy Pilgrim-like report of which corners are underdamped and which tires were showing signs of heating up first, but the bald-faced truth is that I pushed the hot-rod Mercedes as fast as I dared on the roads I know best, and the most I could eke out was a wee bit of understeer and a sympathetic screeching from the tires (and I’m pretty sure they were only doing that to make me feel better).
I did get the rear end to step out once, and this required a particularly sharp turn, glass-smooth pavement, and the willingness to soil a perfectly good pair of trousers. It was obvious that however fast I wanted to go, the Mercedes was happy to go faster. With the fear factor approaching a level I’ve not experienced since my high school girlfriend told me a certain recurring biological event had not shown up on its anticipated schedule, I eased back my speed a bit, opened the windows, and enjoyed the lovely burbling and backfiring of the exhaust as it echoed off the canyon walls.
I came away with two key takeaways about the E63 S (I dare not label them as problems, as a better driver might disagree). First was a tendency for the stability control system to trip a little early. Of the three performance driving modes—Sport, Sport Plus, and Race—only the latter uses the stability control’s performance program. Fire into a corner too fast (a bad habit of mine) and it’s easy to trigger just a smidge of understeer, but that smidge is enough to cause the ESC system to dial back the power. Selecting Race mode solved the problem, and those smidges never developed into anything bigger; still, what with the cliff walls on one side and drop-offs on the other, I’d prefer something in the middle between full-on nanny and a liberally-minded track program. This is as good a place as any to note that the E63 S also has a Drift mode, which sends 100 percent of the engine’s power to the rear wheels and requires stability control to be switched fully off. I didn’t dare.
Issue No. 2 is the E63 S is hyper-responsive, as a racing-inspired street car should be, but unless you’re super-smooth on the controls, it’s easy to feed in a bit too much steering, gas, or brake. This has always been a challenge for me, and my early progress up some of the twistier bits was far jerkier than I would care to admit. Good thing I was well within the car’s prodigious handling envelope; goodness knows what my less-than-ideal technique was doing for weight transfer.
Still, despite the fact that it highlighted some of my poorer driving habits, I found the E63 S to be a grin-generating thrill ride. My takeaway from a day of challenging the laws of both traffic and physics is that the E63 S really is a supercar masquerading as a sedan—which makes the $105,000 price tag seem like tremendous value for money.
But as a daily commuter, it’s pretty rough.
The problem with the E63 S is that it drives in tuned-up mode all the time. The steering is heavy enough to fatigue your arms. The suspension merely takes the edge off of sharper bumps, as if it was fulfilling the minimum standards of care required by law but refusing to do anything else. And the seats—don’t even get me started. The front buckets are meanly padded and rock hard, and I spent the better part of my day trying, and failing, to find a comfortable adjustment. In all fairness, seat comfort was less of an issue after my hot-rod curvy-road drive, but that may have been afterglow—or perhaps the forces of acceleration had temporarily remolded my spine to the seat’s unforgiving contours.
Were I reading this review instead of writing it, I suspect I’d be screaming at the screen right about now: “If it drives like a supercar, of course it rides like crap!” Fair point—but this is a German supercar, and furthermore it’s got an air suspension and electric power steering. I submit that AMG’s engineers could have made the car just as talented in Sport and Race modes while providing a “Comfort” mode that was actually comfortable. They could have turned up the power-steering boost. They could have softened the ride. They could have put just a wee bit more padding in the seats.
But they didn’t.
The E63 S is harsher than it needs to be in its tamest setting, a little less comfortable, a little more tedious to drive to the office. It’s as if the engineers are jealous of your ability to afford this amazing car, and were determined to punish you for it.
In an ideal world, I would own a Mercedes-AMG E63 S. I would have it waiting at the foot of my favorite curvy canyon road, engine warmed up, in Race mode—primed and ready for attack. And in that same ideal world, I’d have a 10-year-old E63 wagon to commute between my house and the car.
2018 Mercedes-AMG E63 S Specifications
ON SALE Now PRICE $105,395/$145,160 (base/as tested) ENGINE 4.0L twin-turbocharged DOHC 32-valve V-8/603 hp @ 5,750-6,500 rpm, 627 lb-ft @ 2,500-4,500 rpm TRANSMISSION 9-speed automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, AWD sedan EPA MILEAGE 15/22 mpg (city/hwy) L x W x H 196.4 x 81.3 x 56.6 in WHEELBASE 115.7 in WEIGHT 4,515 lb 0-60 MPH 3.3 sec TOP SPEED 186 mph
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Detailed Notes on Pressure Cleaning Capalaba
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A Simple Key For Pressure Cleaning Morningside Unveiled
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