What you don't expect is a brake system straight out of the 1800s.
When you buy a used Mercedes-Benz at auction, you expect a few quirks: maybe a missing service booklet, a mild coffee aroma baked into the seats, or a questionable Bluetooth pairing name left behind by the previous owner. What you don't expect is a brake system straight out of the 1800s.
Yet that is exactly what one unlucky buyer in Germany discovered after winning a Mercedes-Benz GLE 400 at auction. The SUV, normally a six-figure machine engineered with more electronics than some small satellites, had been fitted with – wait for it – wooden brake pads.
Yes, that's right. Wood. Just like the stuff that you would normally find at a lumberyard or in the workshop of someone who thinks "carpenter" and "mechanic" are interchangeable professions.
According to the Ludwigsburg Police, the buyer sent a driver to retrieve the GLE after the auction. Not long into the trip, the driver realized something felt… off. The SUV would slow down, kind of, in the way a rolling wardrobe might slow if you pressed a flip-flop against the wheel.
Alarmed, the owner pulled over, called for a tow truck, and then phoned police, because when your brakes feel like they were designed by IKEA, you definitely don't risk the Autobahn.
Once at a dealership, technicians immediately spotted something suspicious: burned wood dust caked across the front wheels. A closer inspection revealed the truth: each caliper held a pair of meticulously cut, perfectly shaped, fully wooden blocks masquerading as brake pads. It was DIY ingenuity at its most chaotic.
And the anonymous craftsman didn't stop there. One pad had "Brembo” written across it in black Sharpie, as if the Italian brake giant had suddenly pivoted to making performance components from renewable forestry products. Brembo, for the record, is known for carbon-ceramic brilliance, not… pine.
Police say the makeshift pads were cut precisely to size, meaning whoever installed them really put in the effort. Which raises the question: if you have the tools, patience, and time to carve a set of brake pads, why not just install real brake pads? A decent pair costs less than a night out in Stuttgart.
The police, clearly amused but also deeply concerned, posted photos and a warning on Facebook. Their message, roughly translated, reads like a blend of German pragmatism and dad-joke energy: “Wood instead of brake pads!
Creative but deadly.
Brakes belong in the hands of professionals, not the 'do it yourself’ workshop.”
They noted that the GLE, valued at around 100,000 euros when new, was sold through an online auction platform. The previous owner, affectionately referred to by the police as the "carpenter?!?", is now being sought for questioning.
Authorities have secured the remains of the wooden pads as evidence, presumably after brushing off the sawdust, and started an investigation.
For everyone else, the story doubles as a public service announcement: inspect auction cars carefully. Ask for detailed photos. Look closely at brake calipers. And if you ever see a Mercedes stopping in the same manner as the original 1886 Patent-Motorwagen, maybe skip the test drive.
Until police find the mysterious woodworker, one thing is certain: Bertha Benz replaced her car's wooden brakes with leather for a reason. Over a century later, the lesson still stands: leave the lumber for furniture, not for stopping a two-ton luxury SUV.