The 2026 Mercedes-Maybach SL680 is a luxurious roadster that excels in comfort and style, but lacks the engaging drive of a true sports car. Last month I spent a couple of weeks with a pair of $250,000 sporting machines: a 2026 Aston Martin Vantage S, and this, the 2026 Mercedes-Maybach SL680 Monogram. Both are roadsters. Both are powered by an AMG-engineered V8. Both were even green (Ireland dark green metallic in this case—a $9,900 “Manufaktur” option). But despite the similarities, you’d never mistake one for the other in a blind test—whatever that might look like.
The last time I had the pleasure of driving the SL680, I never really ventured outside of my normal routine. This time around, I had not only the benefit of swapping straight out of the Aston Martin, but a prime opportunity to take the Maybach on a proper road trip. Sure, it may be a sports car, but this little drop-top is first and foremost a luxury car. How bad can it be, right?
I called it “little,” but that’s not really accurate. Where the Vantage felt crisp and light on its feet, the Maybach turned bulky and boat-like. The highfalutin’ Benz noses rapidly into turns thanks to its super-quick steering, but the whole thing feels so light as to defy physics, enhancing your persistent awareness of how much artificial boost is built into the wheel.
View Price on AmazonThis most commonly manifests as a bit of twitchiness on-center, and it’s something you’re more likely to notice if you’re steering the car manually (as in, not letting the car do it for you, which it can) on relatively straight roads—the kind you tend to encounter frequently on a 400-plus-mile road trip through the Midwest. If you’re out there really hustling the thing through the bends, you won’t spend enough at dead-ahead steering to even notice.
On the rare occasion that I did encounter a nice set of twisties, I was struck by how slow the Maybach manages to feel despite its insane power reserve and relatively small stature. There are cars that shrink around the driver when you push them; others seem to elongate the instant you turn the steering wheel. Carrying nearly 4,400 pounds under that svelte sheet metal, the Maybach is very much the latter.
While we’re on the subject of carrying things, let’s talk cargo. Storage space isn’t typically at a premium on my usual commute (from my bedroom to my home office, to be clear), but an overnight trip means packing the usual toiletries and at least one change of clothes. For that, I went with my usual L.L. Bean roller duffel, which fits in any commercial airline overhead bin in America. I could probably stack two of them in the SL, tops. My dayback rode up front.
Even just puttering around in traffic, the Maybach’s shift programming (even in its most aggressive drive mode) feels lethargic. The exhaust doesn’t bark, pop, or rumble when you let off the throttle. This thing was designed to be noticed without making a lot of noise. Mission accomplished, I suppose, but the result feels flat to me, even if the car performs just fine despite its subtle soundtrack.
Being Michigan, arrow-straight roads are the exception here rather than the rule. On the highway, the Maybach’s nose likes to dart around at the slightest input. To complicate things further, the chassis itself seems almost allergic to the road crown. At any point when I wasn’t letting the car drive itself, it seemed like it was constantly trying to nudge me onto the shoulder—as if the self-driving system’s passive-aggressive intrusive thoughts were somehow leaking past the “off” button.
Source: thedrive.com
