The highway is clear, and I'm taking advantage of the empty road to do little whifferdills in the E320 station wagon, slaloming subtly from side to side. These are just little movements–I never cross the white lines–but they make a big statement about the car. The Benz doesn't bob or weave, but hews firmly to the course I'm steering as if it knows the rhythm of my hands. While the tires bite and turn, the cockpit remains stable and upright. The controlled yet undulating sensation recalls a clean skiing run through two feet of fresh powder, as soothing as it is fun.

Not every experience in the E320 is sublime, but this car, which comes as either a sedan or a wagon, certainly provides more than its share of fulfillment. The wagon version I drove for a week was beautifully contoured both inside and out. Curvy, classy styling draws you to the car and, once you're inside a warm, elegant interior, beckons you to stay. The test car was outfitted with blue leather upholstery that matched the exterior paint, a stylish pairing that conveyed a custom touch for a reasonable $670. Wood and chrome inserts, which can look tacky even on some luxury vehicles, are elegantly sculpted into the trim. It helps that components such as the door handles and shifter feel as solid and smooth as the workings on a bank vault. One sign of quality reinforces the other.

The $50,000 E320 is no dragster–that role would be reserved for the 469-horsepower E55 AMG–and my only complaint about performance is a hesitant throttle. But the E320 is a virtuoso cruiser. One of the most notable things on the highway is the profound quiet. Hardly any vibrations from the road, or from the car, work their way into the cabin. Mercedes's E Class cars are rear-wheel drive, which provides stable, sure-footed handling, even in the top-heavy wagon. Standard safety features include electronic brake assist, which helps intensify stopping power when you need it, and stability control, which may have saved my bacon at least once. During a snowstorm, I was heading through an intersection when a big Buick slid out right in front of me. Holding my breath, preparing for the crunch of metal, I was able to swerve around the Buick without once losing traction. I'll never know for sure, but that's just the sort of circumstance all that fancy safety gear was designed for.

A couple of quibbles: The test car was equipped with an optional automatic tailgate ($500), which entails a cargo cover that automatically retracts when you pop the gate. It seemed like a rare example of overcomplicated, unnecessary technology. Instead, I'd like to see additional features made standard, such as a reverse sensing system able to detect objects out of range of the rearview mirror. The rear seat is fine for kids, but there's not a lot of legroom for adults. And the upgraded Harmon Kardon sound system, a $950 option, crackled when I cranked the volume–an uncharacteristic flaw. Funny though, the shortcomings seemed to fade away when I was caught up in my whifferdills.