One Man’s Reviews
The word Armada immediately makes me think of maritime warfare, with the Spanish Armada leading the charge. All-in-all, it’s not a bad metaphor for an SUV so big it easily holds a fleet of adults with room to spare. However, there in lies the problem. This vehicle is so big that it’s closer to compare it to the Post-Panamax vessels, which are too big to fit through the Panama Canal, and are one of the causes of the recently approved Canal expansion. In a word, this thing is big. Really big.
It’s right there, printed at the top of the Monroney (or window sticker if you don’t like to get fancy); “LARGEST INTERIOR OF ANY 1/2-TON TRUCK.” Big, bold, in-your-face bragging. I’M BIG SO RESPECT ME.
That’s what this truck tries to say. It’s the Titan for goodness sakes. And while driving it, you feel it. I constantly felt myself warning other drivers to watch out, I was bigger than they were. Don’t cut me off, I’m HUGE. Over and over I was the king of the road and if you weren’t with me, you were against me. And for that, I had the right to crush you. That is, until I drove into a parking lot and clogged the whole thing up with a 12-point turn just trying to get into a normal size space, not to mention trying to get out.
This truck’s just too big for a city truck. It was a royal pain to drive on the small streets near my house, and while parking I often day-dreamed of those guys with the orange markers you see bringing in planes at the airport. That’s pretty much what you need for anything but the most Wal-Mart of parking lots.
A Kia minivan is about as exciting as… well… actually, it’s not exciting at all. However, that should not mean that it can’t be a great vehicle for the right person/need. I recently drove around for a week in one and learned quite a few things about myself as well as the era of minivans.
First of all, driving a different car every week definitely has its advantages, however, I try very hard to remember that whatever I’m driving has no impact whatsoever on my identity. A hot new BMW does not make me cool. It’s not mine, and I’m only driving it for a week. However, hopping into the minivan everyday for a week ended up being a completely different experience. Part of what made it interesting was that other people seemed to notice and comment on the car far more than normal. “I had no idea you were a minivan type of person” one friend commented when I showed up to a dinner. “Nice minivan” would repeat over and over throughout the week, and even an occasional giggle from my coworkers when I walked out with them at the end of the day. Even driving around town, I found myself thinking differently about certain driving conditions when in the Kia. At one point, I had made a slightly silly move at a 4-way stop, and as I waved at the other driver, apologizing, I thought to myself, “well, they won’t be mad at me, I’m in a minivan, I obviously don’t take myself *that* seriously.” And it’s true. You don’t take yourself seriously when in a minivan.
My first experience with station wagons came as a result of watching, over and over again, National Lampoon’s Vacation (the original and still my favorite). Clark is taking the kids across the country with aunt Edna strapped to the roof of the family truckster. Big, green, with wood-paneled sides; I feel this car is the quiet, true winner of Most Under-Whelming Car of All-Time. Leap forward 20 years and the wagon has seen some serious change, both in performance and public image. At least in the Northwest, Subaru’s Outback is synonymous with greatness, featuring one of the largest cargo areas in the way-way back, lots of leg room in the rear seats, and standard all-wheel handling. It’s somewhere between rally car and family truckster, with a dash of mountain-biking cool thrown in for good measure.
I’ve heard in Texas people don’t really care about Subarus, but in Oregon, these are the cars people drive. As someone who’s grown up mountain biking and snowboarding, for the past 15 years my friends have driven pretty much every possible configuration of Subaru wagon made. And each year, they get a little nicer, a little more refined, and a little more revered in “adventure sport’” lifestyles. Myself, I’ve always appreciated the Outback’s tall ride height, its stock use of roof racks and fog lights, tight turning radius, and its ability to drive through any road condition I could throw at it. This test car came with all of that goodness included.
I’ve said before that I have a small fascination with Hummer. I dislike almost everything they have come to be known for, and I have a general disdain for large vehicles. However, there is something about them that keeps me from hating them, and at times, I still think they are cool. I think they are ridiculous as a vehicle, but as an icon, fascinating.
The H3 is even more interesting to me. Costing only $30k, they are almost like a fake Hummer. When parked next to a co-workers Ford Expedition, it was obviously smaller, something I wasn’t expecting. Gone was the vast, open space of the larger H1 and H2, this mid-sized SUV almost felt small when remembering what it’s older siblings felt like inside. Holding 5 people was slightly strained, even though getting into still requires use of the side rails. Put simply, the Hummer H3 looks big, but isn’t.
While driving is when this car really became bizarre. Five people crammed into the back, yet I couldn’t see my corners and had a terrible time getting it into a parking spot in a parking garage. It feels like it takes up a lot of space, yet when you get in, you can’t figure out where that space went.
