Denza Z9 GT Roars Through the Reinhardswald

It was deep into the spring mists of the Reinhardswald when I first heard the quiet hum, a kind of sci, fi whisper that didn’t match the aggressive look bearing down on me from the forest road. I was waiting on a turnout overlooking a snake, like stretch of freshly paved asphalt when the Denza Z9 GT appeared like a dark starship dropped into German woods. It was surreal. A car born from a collaboration between BYD and Daimler, reborn under BYD’s full control, now thundering past oak trees with a presence that screamed Taycan, yet promised something… else. 

The Reinhardswald, for those unfamiliar, is a mythical forest in Hesse, Germany, filled with fairytale fog, towering beeches, and silence thick enough to hear your own breath. A strange place, maybe, to test a 3, ton Chinese super, wagon, but somehow fitting. The Denza Z9 GT is as much legend, in, the, making as the land it rumbled through. 

So I drove it. Hard. And slowly. Curiously. Critically. Here’s everything the spec sheet doesn’t say, and everything it does, about a machine that might just rewrite the script on European luxury estates. 

A Glance at the Beast: Specifications of the Denza Z9 GT 

For complete accuracy and consistency, all technical content is sourced from Denza’s official platform.

This is Not a Wagon, This is a Statement 

The car glided into our forest camp base, whispering over pine needles and early dew. I’d seen the press photos, sleek silhouette, raked roofline, sculpted haunches, but nothing prepared me for its size. This wasn’t “station wagon” in the traditional European sense. It was closer to what Americans might call a land yacht, except dressed in obsidian glass and swooping LED flourishes. 

There was something unapologetically futuristic about it, yet somehow familiar. Like BYD took a Porsche Taycan Cross Turismo and added just enough Mandarin strokes to make it feel uniquely eastern. The front fascia had a shark, like aggression, and the rear lighting strip glowed like a sci, fi monorail. It felt designed, not assembled. 

Inside, it was almost obnoxious how soft everything was. I sank into the seats like they’d been poured around me. Heating, cooling, massage, naturally. But also noise cancellation so effective that I had to double, check if the forest sounds were being artificially piped in. 

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Performance in the Trees: Like Riding a Cheetah in Silk Pajamas

We took the PHEV variant out first. I figured it was the one with more real, world relevance. Let me tell you, there’s something downright spooky about slingshotting nearly three tons of metal through narrow, fog, wrapped corners without a hint of drama. The Z9 GT doesn’t just corner well for its size; it corners well, period. Rear, axle steering and torque vectoring gave it the rotation of a car half its length. 

But push hard, and the car reveals its secrets. 

The power delivery, especially when the ICE joins the electric duet, feels like an executive board meeting. A brief pause, a conference call between electrons and hydrocarbons, then an explosion of torque that can borderline upset your equilibrium. Turbo lag? Slightly, yes. But once the hybrid system finds its rhythm, it launches. 

The air suspension? Plush. Almost too plush. At low speeds, it’s all magic carpet serenity. At high speeds, especially under heavy braking, I felt just a whiff of mass inertia fight back. There’s body roll in tight switchbacks, but it’s well, controlled. Not floaty, but not nailed, down like a Taycan or Audi RS6. 

Crab, Walking and Intelligent Overtaking: Is This Car Smarter Than Me? 

This was my first experience with a vehicle that could literally walk sideways. On a cobbled village street at the forest’s edge, the Z9 GT twisted its wheels into a 10, degree tilt and slid into a tiny stone, lined parking spot like it was choreographed. Onlookers stood in awe. So did I. 

But the real jaw, dropper was on the Autobahn slice cutting through Reinhardswald’s southern flank. We enabled “Active Overtake Assist”, and the car pulled out, passed a truck, and tucked back in with eerie smoothness. Hands hovering, I felt less like a driver and more like a supervisor. 

Then came the safety demo, simulated tire blowout at 140 km/h. The VMC system took over. The rear end wobbled, caught itself, and like some invisible hand corrected the trajectory in milliseconds. It was one of the few moments in the drive where I genuinely trusted the car more than myself. 

A Lounge in Motion: Inside the Denza Z9 GT 

Three massive screens, haptic feedback, rich Nappa leather, it felt like I’d stepped into a high, end tech flagship store that just happened to move at 200+ km/h. And yet… Denza kept buttons. Real, tactile buttons. For HVAC, for volume, for drive modes. Thank you. 

Interior space is deceptive. That sloping rear hides a surprisingly deep cargo hold and generous legroom front and back. The cell, to, body structure allows for more floor room and better packaging, an engineering choice that pays off handsomely. 

There’s quirk too. Doors that only open when the parking brake is engaged (confusing at first, genius in safety terms). A driver display that “hovers” visually like a hologram. A gesture control system that’s not quite reliable, but when it works, makes you feel like a Jedi adjusting temperature with a finger flick. 

The Price of Power and Prestige 

Denza hasn’t finalized pricing for Germany, but we’re likely looking at a six, figure entry for the BEV version, with the PHEV slightly under that. It’s a bold move, competing directly with Porsche, Mercedes, Audi. But given the level of tech, materials, and performance on offer, it may be less outrageous than it sounds. 

And frankly? There’s a psychological value in novelty. This isn’t a rebadge. It’s a rethink. The Z9 GT isn’t trying to be a Taycan; it’s trying to be a Denza. It’s an identity play, and a strong one. 

Conclusion: The Forest Whispers… and the Denza Answers Loudly 

Somewhere on a moss, covered trail, deep in the Reinhardswald, I stopped the car. Shut it off. Sat in silence. That’s when I realized: This isn’t just a Chinese car trying to crash Europe’s luxury party. This is BYD showing up uninvited, and kicking in the door with 800 volts, crab, walking past the valet, and doing it all with a smug grin. 

The Denza Z9 GT isn’t perfect. The hybrid still hesitates. The suspension can feel floaty. The tech sometimes fumbles. But the overall package is more than compelling, it’s challenging the very notion of what a luxury station wagon should be. 

In the forest of German auto legends, a new beast has entered. And it doesn’t growl, it glides.