An Air-ride That Can Land You Flat on the Ground

Magic Body Control. It sounds like a cheap gimmick, a feature that gets tacked on to an overpriced mattress. And in a way, it is. That mattress, it turns out, is a 2015 Mercedes-Benz E-Class, and that Magic Body Control is an $8000 optional extra. 

That's a pricey mattress.

I was puzzled when I came across that line on the options list, which skyrocketed the mid-level Benz's price to almost 90 grand. The sales guy, the one whose eyes I could feel rolling at my mere presence, balanced on his heels and explained the complex system in three words. "It's air suspension."

That's disappointing.

In my head I had pictured something much more cutting edge, maybe magnets aimed north to north underneath the car's four corners, keeping it afloat on an invisible field. Instead, it was just air suspension, the culprit of saggy old luxury cars past their prime. And in actuality, the idea of automotive air suspension has been around for quite a while.

Ideas for a pneumatic "cushion" spring for vehicles were patented as far back as 1901 by a man named William W. Humphreys. By 1920, George Messier, a manufacturer of pneumatic equipment, had developed his own aftermarket automotive suspension system. His automotive firm Messier only existed from 1925 to 1931, but every automobile he produced came with his air system. Messier's fledgling company, despite being a failure, had opened the door to "cars without springs."

Illustration of Humphreys' original patent, a "Pneumatic Spring for Vehicles."

The Great Depression ground development of the technology to a halt, but by the mid-1940s, pneumatic suspension systems were being tinkered with again, this time by the United States military for use in airplanes. Soon enough, it was back to cars--the Stout Scarab, to be exact. A unique car in its exterior design alone, the Scarab was designed to look like the beetle of its namesake. But it was a radical car in many other aspects as well. It was powered by a Ford flathead V8 mounted at the rear, and featured, you guessed it, four-wheel independent air suspension. Only nine of these hand-built prototypes were produced, but the Scarab set the ball rolling once again.

A 1936 prototype version of the Stout Scarab on display at the High Museum of Art. Only five of these vehicles remain in existence.

In 1955, Citroen released the DS, a car that would become one of the most widely recognized French automobiles in history. As you'd  imagine, it certainly didn't lack the sort of zany, oft-illogical flair that Citroen would later become known for. The rear of the car was narrower than the front, producing a shape unlike any that had been seen before. Curious, too, was its suspension setup. Technically, the DS used an oleopneumatic suspension, named so because the shock absorbers were filled with nitrogen gas and hydraulic fluid rather than air. These shock absorbers were connected to the sway bars via a piston, which would pump the liquid and gas filled chamber depending upon the surface. In the DS, you didn't even need a jack to change a tire. Simply to raise the car up to its furthest ride height setting (intended to help the driver better traverse rough roads), place a jack stand underneath, and lower the car via the same dashboard-mounted switch.

Basics of the Citroen DS oleopneumatic suspension system. Nitrogen (Gaz) is suspended above hydraulic fluid and activated by a piston connected to the trailing arm.

It wasn't long before GM caught wind of Citroen's developments. In 1957, Cadillac introduced the new Eldorado Brougham, which came standard with an air suspension system designed to maximize ride comfort. Their system used what would now be considered a rudimentary collection of sensors that helped the air system compensate for uneven road surfaces. A year later, and both Buick and American Motors were offering similar systems on their flagship models. But the early technology was hopelessly complex and the option for air suspension soon disappeared on all American cars, not to return again until the mid-1980s.

Only European luxury brands Mercedes-Benz and Rolls Royce introduced air suspension systems throughout the 1960s. Mercedes' system, most famously the one on the mighty 600 sedan, used hydraulics which also powered the windows, brakes, and trunk lid, among other components. Meanwhile Rolls used a self-leveling system licensed from--none other than Citroën--in the 1965 Silver Shadow.

Nicknamed the "Mercedes Big," the 600 sedan boasted a biblically-complex hydraulic system.

Air suspension systems may seem complicated next to the traditional metal coil setup, but in reality, the basics aren't that much different. The beating heart of every air suspension is the compressor. Most commonly powered by the engine, the compressor pumps air into the system either to increase ride height or to level it out--if a heavy load is placed in the back of the car, for example. Rubber bellows, the name taken from an accordion-style instrument designed to pump high pressure air into fires, act as "air shocks" or struts. These rubber chambers sit between the car's chassis and axles or struts, and are sealed to keep the pressurized air in.

These suspension systems have a wide array of uses, ranging from modern buses that "kneel" at the front, providing better access for disabled passengers, to custom, aftermarket setups, where you can let your car rest on the (frame) rails while it's parked at a car show.

Ride height adjustability is the biggest advantage in an air suspension system. In performance-minded vehicles, this allows you to lower the vehicle, effectively increasing the spring stiffness and improving handling. Additionally, some systems are programmed to lower the suspension automatically at high speeds, which improves the car's aerodynamics and road holding.

Air suspension on the Panamera adjusts at speed, lowering the car slightly for better aerodynamics.

In off-road vehicles, the opposite is advantageous. The latest Range Rover, for example, features a system that can raise the vehicle while stationary, allowing for 11.9 inches of ground clearance. This means that the Rover can ride at a lower height for around town errand-running, but still retains its legendary off-road capabilities. However, these systems still aren't foolproof.

Every now and then, you're likely to see a mid-2000s Range Rover or Mercedes sitting suspiciously low in a driveway. Failing air suspension systems are still a huge problem, especially in cars that are getting a bit long-in-the-tooth. But why do these systems fail? Or, an even better question, how do they fail?

The most common problem in an air suspension system is failure of the air shock or strut itself. The rubber bellow mentioned earlier is subject to the same sort of issues any rubber component faces. Even though it's shielded in some effect by the wheels and body of the car, it's still subject to drastic temperature change, which dries out the rubber, eventually making it brittle, especially around connection points. Even under normal operation, the shock undergoes small amounts of stretching which, over time, add up.

Major leaks in any of the air bags can easily lead to failure of the air compressor. This, because the compressor is working overtime to maintain pressure in an impossible system. Eventually, the compressor burns up trying to compensate.

More common in custom applications, but not unheard of in factory systems, is air line failure. In automotive applications, the lines for air suspension systems are usually the same braided nylon lines used to transport hydraulic brake fluid. These are very strong, but if the line is run against a sharp edge of the frame, or placed too close to a moving suspension component, it's likely to wear out over time and eventually leak.  

All of these problems can lead to some very costly repairs.

A company called Arnott specializes in remanufactured suspension components for Mercedes-Benz. W220 Benz's--the S-Classes produced from 1998 to 2005--are experiencing the most issues related to their air suspension systems, but models as current as the GL-Class, introduced in 2006, are showing problems. Arnott provides both a replacement air suspension kit ($2700) and a full coil spring conversion kit ($1500). Comparatively, most Mercedes dealerships will charge up to $600 for a single air spring. And these prices are all before any labor is involved, although Arnott provides some excellent YouTube tutorials for their system's installation.

German luxury cars aren't the only ones having problems though. Second generation Lincoln Navigators, built from 2003 to 2006 on the Ford Expedition platform, are notorious for having problems with their air compressor. As mentioned earlier, this is ultimately related to leaky air bags. Replacement compressors are a fairly cheap piece at around $150, but replacing them is only putting a bandage on  the underlying problem. At their least expensive, eBay-special prices, replacement air struts for the Navigator will cost you $300 a piece. By comparison, a complete set of metal coils and struts costs $400.

Alas, it's back to contemplation mode. For all of the Magic Body Control's perceived virtues, I'd safely say that, even if given the opportunity to afford it, I'd leave that box on the options list unchecked. As for buying a car with air suspension secondhand, my first modification would be a coil spring conversion. 

S-FR Digs at Toyota's Roots

Let me be the first to say, I'm not usually a huge fan of concept cars. Their space-age looks and impossible interiors only lead me, immediately, to shoot them down. My train of thought is usually along the lines of: "that would never happen, that would never work, and that doesn't even have a windshield."

However, every now and then, a concept car will stop me in my tracks. 

I wouldn't call the new Toyota S-FR concept beautiful. The front end reminds me of an angry Pokemon character. But it feels more significant, more classically-refined. The lines are simple, clean; the silhouette rounded, but not in a hokey, Volkswagen New Beetle sort of way. It reminds me of an original, 1960s Japanese sports car.

The S-FR's exterior design, I suspect, intends to echo its ancestor, the Toyota Sports 800. The Sports 800 debuted at the same show back in 1962, and it was the first sports car Toyota ever produced. Tip-toeing the scales at a little over 1,200 pounds, and measuring a full 20 inches shorter than a Volkswagen Beetle of the time, it made the Triumph Spitfire look like a cargo ship.

The S-FR, its name no doubt an homage to the FR (front-engine, rear-drive) layout, is rumored to be a replacement for the defunct Toyota Supra. But, as it's smaller even than a Scion FR-S, it's likely that Toyota intends to compete with the likes of the Mazda Miata. Of course, it's not the first time a major car firm has taken on that mighty roadster.

Ever since the Mazda Miata rocked the automotive world in 1989, showing that small, two-seater roadsters could be both fun and reliable, other automotive giants have been vying for a piece of that market, with little luck. The closest contender was the Honda S2000, which didn't arrive on the scene until 1999. Sales of the S2000 remained healthy until the late 2000s, when numbers slumped dramatically from 2007 to 2008, leading to the roadster's discontinuation. BMW's Z3 and Z4 roadsters, along with the Porsche Boxster and Mercedes-Benz SLK were too expensive to be considered options, and the Miata continues to hold its title. 

While the S-FR concept is a hardtop, it still holds promise as a potential alternative to the Miata. The concept, a very-complete example, showcases a minimal interior, apart from the bright accent pieces. The inside also boasts seating for four, as opposed to the Miata's rigid two-plus-roof format. But, most importantly, the S-FR is described as an entry-level option, meaning prices will (hopefully) make it accessible to young buyers.

Wait a second, you might say. This all sounds a bit familiar, doesn't it?

Yes, it does indeed. If we're on the same page, you're thinking about the Scion Fr-s/Subaru BR-Z twins, which both came out a few years ago. Sales of these certainly haven't been making headlines, despite the relatively-inexpensive entry price of around $25,000. And I'd be lying if I said I believed with all my heart that the S-FR would post even decent sales numbers if it hit our shores.

The problem with the S-FR, if it were to even reach production, is the same problem the FR-S and, to a slightly lesser extent, even the Miata face. These are niche cars. By nature, many, many more people will buy a Ford Taurus before they even think of buying a sports car with bucket seats and no trunk lining. In fact, it would be impractical, foolish even, for most people to even consider buying something as singularly-minded as a Miata or a BR-Z. 

Furthermore, the hard fact is that fewer and fewer young people, the type of people interested in budget, pint-sized sports cars with little sound-deadening, aren't able to afford it. Even if they are able to, many will still flock to the secondhand market, where they'll get more car for their money. 

All that being said, I want desperately for Toyota to build the S-FR. I want them to sell it here, too, so that every now and then I'll see one on the street and think "man, that would be a neat car to own." Will it be a Miata-fighter? Probably not. The Miata is too well-established, it's got a cult following that's difficult to match, the sort that only comes along in a handful of cars every few decades. But I've got hope for the little bug-eyed guy. Maybe one day I'll be able to look up at a confused pickup driver in traffic, with the confidence that he'll never understand why I bought an S-FR.

AMX: The Other American Muscle Car

When I was younger, my dad would take me to the drag races at a little strip close to our house. Southeastern Dragway was tucked behind a fence gone opaque with kudzu. It was a proper quarter-mile strip, with a "Run-What-You-Brung" program and enough rednecks to populate an entire North Georgia State fair. The track closed in 2006, the land was sold to Publix but never developed due to hazardous soil test results. But back in the day, it was the place to be on Friday nights.

The lights buzzed overhead, alive with thousands of volts and millions of moths, and the drip of taxicab-yellow cheese on nachos mingled with the smell of tire smoke. "Run-What-You-Brung" started every Friday night around eight-o-clock, and the muscle cars reigned supreme. And one particular muscle car always caught my eye.

A mixture of chrome, acres-deep black paint, and anger rolled up to the staging lane. It looked kind of like a Chevy Nova, but much shorter, stouter, like a punk-rock Staffordshire Terrier. When the light went green, the outfit reared off the starting line like a bull let out of the gate, chassis-twisting, left front wheel lifting off the ground in a cacophony of rage and 100-octane mist.

I've always loved the AMC AMX, but I never knew much about it. I was drawn to it at twelve years old. It wasn't like the Novas or the Camaros or the Mustangs. It was different, and I knew it right away. 

AMC was the company that built the AMX and it's younger, nearly identical brother the Javelin. The story of the company is an interesting one. American Motors Corporation marked the beginning of an automotive convergence, not unlike the convergence of American mass media corporations. The company was born from one of the largest corporate mergers ever, in 1954. Nash-Kelvinator, itself a merger of Nash Motors and Kelvinator Appliance Company, acquired Hudson Motor Car Company to form American Motors. Both Nash and Hudson had been huge players in the postwar car business; Hudson produced powerful, stylish sedans and Nash built practical, aerodynamic town cars.

The plan was to combine the strengths of Nash and Hudson and create a car firm that rivaled the established "Big Three"--Ford, Chevrolet, and Chrysler. American Motor Company quickly phased out the existing Nash and Hudson models and began producing the Rambler, a small car that borrowed heavily from the Nash Metropolitan. Soon, though, the Rambler became a truly individual American Motors product. Safety and practicality were its biggest selling points. By 1959, American Motors had solidly established itself as a player in the American car market, producing economy cars that were ahead of their time in both styling and standard features.

A fine example of post-war Nash: the Statesman Airflyte Coupe. This Nash was developed in a windtunnel--unheard of for a passenger car in 1949.

Ambassador, Marlin, American, and Classic models gained a strong foothold in the small car market in the early 1960s. In 1960 and 1961, the Rambler ranked third in domestic automobile sales. Small cars were in fashion, but soon American Motors would face a bigger challenge. 

On March 9th, 1964, the first Ford Mustang rolled off the assembly line in Dearborn, Michigan. And with it, the American automotive industry changed almost overnight. AMC had a fine reputation for building basic commuter cars by 1967. But Ford's Mustang had the country enthralled with the muscle car. It was cheap, available with a multitude of different and exciting engines, and stylish. By 1967, Chevrolet had caught on, introducing the Camaro. It was clear that AMC needed to adjust their approach if they wanted to continue chipping away at the big three.

A 1964 1/2 Ford Mustang Convertible on display at Ford's Rouge Plant in Dearborn, Michigan.

American Motors threw every bit of fuel it had to the fire. The company launched a fully-redesigned line of full and midsized cars in 1966. In 1967 they hired an outside company to develop a new lithium battery for automotive use. The next year, AMC became the first company to make air conditioning standard on a line of cars. Things were looking up. But they still didn't have a muscle car.

The answer came from AMX, American Motors' experimental division.  Dick Teague,  a designer at AMC since 1959, penned designs for a sleek, two-door muscle car. Two prototypes were displayed on the company's own auto show tour in 1966 and received excellent reception. Work on the production car began immediately. 

And immediately there was dispute: whether to build the car with a fiberglass or steel body. Fiberglass was cheaper, friendly to American Motors' limited budget, but steel was stronger and easier to manufacture and repair. Both fiberglass and steel prototypes were initially developed, but AMC quickly decided to stick with traditional steel bodies for production models. In September of 1967, AMC began offering the Javelin for sale in the United States. 

Like the Camaro and Mustang, the Javelin was available with a wide range of engines from 3.8 liters to 5.6 (a 6.4 liter option was added mid-1968). Optional "Go packages" offered the 5.6 V8 with four barrel carburetors, upgraded suspension, dual exhaust, and chrome wheels.

The Javelin quickly became a cult favorite. It had the smallest wheelbase of any of the pony cars, and weighed less. But even though it was smaller, interior and luggage dimensions were the largest in class. Combine these with attractive styling and a low starting price, and the Javelin started looking like a big contender.

In February 1968, the AMC AMX was introduced. This was the car from the drag strips of my youth, and from the start it was a niche special. The AMX was marketed as a pure American sports car. It was one of the very few two-seaters on the American market--Chevrolet Corvette and Ford Thunderbird were the only other options at the time. The "twin venturi" grille from the Javelin was combined into one piece, broad C-pillars created a fastback look at the rear, and red-stripe tires set off the Magnum 500 alloy wheels. 

If the Javelin was a exercise in good styling, then the AMX was a full-on muscle car masterpiece.

AMC was taking the "pony car" establishment head on. Along with the Javelin came marketing plans that directly addressed the car's biggest competitors. 

The AMX stacked up well against its competition. AMC nixed the smaller V6 options available on the Javelin. The AMX started with the 4.8L, and climbed up to the 390 cubic inch V8, which had entirely different internal components to support the extra power. It was a truly unique car, sacrificing the class-leading interior and luggage space of the Javelin for style and performance.

And like most cult classics, the AMX never achieved record-breaking sales numbers. Over its three years in production, American Motors sold 19,134 AMXs (a whopping majority sold in the 390, manual transmission configuration. By 1970 the AMX was gone from the lineup. The Javelin remained for four more years until succumbing to the changing economic climate of the American car industry.

After 1970, AMC dropped the AMX, but would continue making face-lifted Javelins, like this 1971 example, until 1974.

I believe, like most, that those were the glory days of the American automotive industry: the muscle car period of the mid-90s and early 70s. The Mustang, the AMX, the Camaro; these were cars that came to define the American automotive industry for years to come. What happened to AMC after the muscle car collapsed? It was nothing unlike what happened to the whole of the American automotive industry in wake of the 1970s energy crisis. 

As early as 1970 AMC was producing the Gremlin, a two-door subcompact with a 96 inch wheelbase and a 2.0 liter, Volkswagen-sourced inline four engine as the base option. The Gremlin and it's later iteration, the Pacer nowadays appear near the top of "worst" and "ugliest car(s) of all time" lists. But both cars displayed the same ambition as seen in early AMC, albeit not executed nearly as well. In 1977, as a result of dramatically lower small car sales in the United States, it was reported AMC had lost almost $74 million since the Pacer's introduction two years earlier. By 1978, their share of the US automotive market was less that 2%, so they signed a partnership with Renault. By 1980, AMC was out of cash altogether, and had to turn to Renault for a large loan--by 1983 Renault had 49% stake in the company. 

Despite all of this, American Motors managed to make it into the 80s, but it was clear that things were just about over. AMC created four-wheel-drive versions of their truly hideous Spirit and Concord, calling the line Eagle. The Renault Alliance, a restyled Renault 9, was built at AMCs Kenosha, Wisconsin plant and sold as a two-door coupe, a four-door sedan, a two-door hatchback, and a two-door convertible. AMC had ownership of the Jeep brand, having bought out Kaiser-Jeep in 1970, and this helped keep AMC going in its final days. The Jeep Cherokee and Wagoneer were produced in 1983 for the 1984 model year, both available with an American Motors-developed 4.0 liter inline-six--an engine that would become legendary for its toughness and use in many Chrysler products, including the Jeep Wrangler.

The wildly-popular Jeep Cherokee's design was first penned in 1978. This "XJ" generation was produced from 1984 to 2001, many models using the legendary, AMC-developed 4.0 liter inline-six, which would be used in Chrysler products for years to come.

By 1985, Chrysler was working closely with AMC, drafting agreements to develop chassis in a Chrysler-beneficial partnership. Meanwhile Renault, which had controlling stake in AMC, was having its own troubles, which came to a head in 1986 when a French capitalist leader was assassinated in retaliation for his firing of 25,000 Renault workers. 

Finally in 1987 Chrysler bought out Renault's shares and the remaining shares in AMC. AMC became the Jeep-Eagle brand under Chrysler's umbrella--designs for the Jeep Grand Cherokee being the sole motivation for the buyout. AMC's roller coaster ride was over.