In green land far across the ocean, where the roads are smooth and the corners flowing, where you can sometimes drive as fast as you dare and no one cares, and where you can eat great bread without being French, live the Hartge brothers. They spent their youth in and around racing cars. As their fame spread, the brothers began selling BMWs and shortly thereafter racing legendary cars like the 1602, 2002 and 635. Their customers took notice and the Hartges began modifying Munich's sportier offerings and turning out more performance-focused machines. Imagine their joy when, in 1986, staid, stodgy, button-downed Mercedes joined the DTM touring car fray with a muscular be-winged sporting machine of its own, the 190 2.3 16V, and opened a whole new box of toys for the Hartge boys.
In 1989, after several years of trying to support both BMW and Mercedes projects, the Brothers Hartge pursued separate paths. Herbert continued to concentrate on BMWs under the Hartge name, while Rolf and Andreas left to fill the needs of the perhaps less flashy--but no less discerning or demanding-- sporting-minded Mercedes owner.
Rolf (pictured right) and Andreas Hartge now run their operations from Gut Wiesenhof, an impeccably restored historic 19th century manor house and farm (circa 1835), where original owner Baron Constantin von Briesen once raised thoroughbred horses. When the brothers started the restoration of Gut Wiesenhof in 1995, the buildings were a shambles--a tree was growing through what is now the main office staircase. By the time the work was finished, the brothers had been awarded a prize for the preservation of a historical monument and Gut Wiesenhof was granted official `protected' status.
Watching their technicians install a supercharger kit is a double treat. Grow weary of modern machines (as if) and you can contemplate a long-dead mason's skill in the rows of herringbone brick barrel vaults that form the old stable's ceiling. Until the slightly menacing exhaust note of a Carlsson-tuned Merc brings you back to the present.
With the name Hartge already strongly associated with BMWs--and ungainly to pronounce in most languages--the two brothers named their fledgling company after Swedish rally and racing star, Ingvar Carlsson, at the time a factory Mercedes driver. Carlsson had previously won the Swedish Rally Championship in a Hartge-prepared car and has long been an invaluable development partner. Now in his 50s, he still shares driving duties in Carlsson's CK35RS (SLK) in the demanding and fiercely-contested BF Goodrich Langstreckenmeisterschaft (Long Distance Cup), a series of four-, six- and 24-hour races around the Nrburgring's Nordschleife. Its 14.1 miles and myriad turns make it a favorite test site for many major manufacturers and tuners.
"We love racing," says Rolf Hartge, managing director--whose staff warns to snug the belts even for the shortest trip with the boss. And at Carlsson Autotechnik, racing really does improve the breed. Unlike the barely-disguised race cars fielded by factory-supported teams from BMW and Porsche, many of the CK35RS performance parts are destined for the street package.
And unlike the rest of the field, the CK35RS stands alone; Carlsson is the only Mercedes tuner racing a current-model Mercedes anywhere. Nikko even produced a radio-controlled model of the car.
One of the most difficult problems Carlsson has is getting products to market quickly enough. A typical customer rarely keeps his Mercedes more than two or three years before buying a new model. So the engineers generally concentrate on one project at a time in excruciating detail. Case in point: during my visit the engine management wizards (tucked under a shed dormer supported by 300-year-old hand-hewn timbers) were looking for more power in Mercedes' new diesel engines. Diesels respond well to changes in injection timing but, afraid the piezo-electric crystal that controls the injectors might overheat, they built in two rest periods of 10 and 60 milliseconds during the extra 300 milliseconds the injector remains open. Now that's attention to detail.
Then there is the pressure to maintain near-stock reliability. These are new Mercedes, after all, not a turbocharged 1995 Jetta VR6 looking for a 500-hp dyno pull before the engine lets go. It takes between three and six months to develop a program with a full guarantee, according to the electronics department's Matthias Locher: "It has to be safe. We think it is better to have power that lasts." Not only that, but by using OE ECU connectors to plug between the wiring harness and ECU and piggy-back programming rather than permanently altering the board, the electronic changes are invisible to factory service computers. And the hardware can move to another car with no modifications.