Much has been made about the new Toyota Tundra, from the outlandish (it'sthe final nail in the coffin of the Big Three) to the obvious (it's really not that attractive) to the obsequious (it's a really, really good truck). Naturally Toyota backed up this buzz with a very aggressive ad campaign. I personally don't know anyone who can't instantly recall the Tundra's bigger is better/book of truck campaigns touting the advantages of a 6-speed automatic transmission, 10.5-inch rear differential, Ferrari-sized disc brakes and the ability to tow a trailer up a giant teeter-totter, down the other side and stop before driving off a cliff. Other than its ability to tow, which I can't comment on, I can confirm that it does live up to most of the hype.
Like most people laying eyes on it for the first time, when I picked up the Tundra I was immediately taken by its size. Instead of being 7/8ths-sized like the last version, it's now almost 11/10ths, which brought to mind its Texas birthplace, arguably the heart and soul oftruck country. On account of this thought, my wife and I decided to head to a Texas-themed restaurant for a late midweek dinner. I don't think a vehicle has ever made a culinary decision for us before. Sitting there looking at all the Texas-sized pictures and memorabilia screwed to the walls made me ponder on whether or not a truck from a Japanese manufacturer fit in with the land of Longhorn cattle, the Cadillac Ranch and George W? And even if it does fit in over in Texas, is it more Austin than Amarillo?
To help woo “traditional” (read: domestic) truck buyers, Toyota touts not only Tundra's Texas final assembly but that over 80-percent of the Tundra's components are sourced here in America, that's better than the Mexican-built Dodge Ram. Even my CrewMax model's 5.7-liter iForce V8 produces a Texas-sized381 horsepower and 401 lb-ft of torque. If that's not mind bending enough, it's not only ULEV rated but is Toyota's first engine built entirely here in the U.S., from the aluminum blocks cast in Missouri to final assembly in Alabama. And while there are those who feel that buying a Japanese truck is hurting our economy, these are the same people who shop at Wal-Mart supporting its over 15-billion dollars a year in Chinese imports. At least Toyota is building factories on American soil.
But enough about how American the Tundra is or isn't. It's a truck and I actually used it as such since I had offered to help my sister-in-law move. She lives in a smaller city in the rural parts of this state where many of the vehicles you see are full size trucks. Driving around in the Tundra elicited a lot of stares and drew a lot of comments from strangers in parking lots who all seemed to echo the same sentiment, “Nice truck.” Ray, who helped us move and owns a pretty nice looking current model Ram HEMI Sport, commented on the nice metallic trim around the gauges and the materials inside.
But when he pulled away I listened to the deep authoritative rumble of the HEMI and realized what the Tundra's5.7-liter iForce lacks: a distinctive exhaust note. What the 5.7 has working for it is that it is insanely powerful yet linear in its delivery, so to say that there is plenty of passing power is a bit of an understatement. Actually it's only slightly slower 0–60 mph than Toyota's final generation twin-turbo Supra! So the 5000-pound-plus Tundra will squeal the tires without any issue from a dead stop until the VDIM/Traction Control system slaps you on the wrist and tones things down.
Backed by a velvety smooth console-shifted 6-speed automatic that delivers quick shifts and also contributes to the Tundra's impressive fuel economy, I averaged 18 miles per gallon, pretty outstanding for a 381-horsepower truck. While there is no doubt that other manufacturers will ante up in the horsepower race, unless they also start copying Toyota's fuel efficiency, I don't see the point if gas prices stay above $3.00 a gallon.
Trucks are no longer trucks in the traditional sense and, as with most half tons on the market, the Tundra issmooth, quiet and rides really well. Handling is good, thanks to light, responsive steering with a double-wishbone front and leaf-spring rear suspension—in that respect it's no Supra. Push it even a little bit and the Tundra understeers in grand fashion. You also never forget that you're driving a very large vehicle and due to its size it feels especially susceptible to crosswinds at highway speeds, but it is still eerily quiet at all speeds and on all road surfaces.
Massive doesn't begin to describe the 13.9-inch front and 13.6-inch rear 4-wheel disc brakes that deliver a firm pedal feel with excellent front to rear proportioning and do stop the Tundra with authority. As I mentioned earlier, I didn't get a chance to test the towing ability, but properly equipped with the towing package that my Tundra had, you can expect to tow over 10,000 pounds. That package includes full trailer wiring with connector, pre-wiring for a trailer brake controller, stiffer rear springs, a heavy dutyalternator, increased transmission cooling with a temperature gauge and a tow/haul mode.
Designed at Toyota's Calty design studio in California with some work also done in Michigan, the Tundra looks unmistakably like a Toyota truck, and when I first set eyes upon it I wasn't impressed with the overall styling. However, after spending a week with it, its distinctiveness grew on me; it's still not particularly stunning, nor do I care for the tacky black plastic piece on top of the grille, but it's not as ugly as I originally felt. There a few design details that are kind of interesting—such as the rear windows that kick up to the rear and the bulging fender flares.
It seems I can't write an article about a truck without mentioning my 1965 GMC (it gets jealous and disagreeable if I don't), a truck with so much character that its tailgate, if you don't hold it carefully as you undo its tailgate chains, will slam(!) down off the bumper almost 180 degrees, denting itself in the process.Well, 40 years later the Tundra has a tailgate that gently and quietly eases itself down without so much as a shudder—just release the handle and step back to watch it in action.
The interior of the Tundra is as comfortable as you would expect it to be in a vehicle this size, but where you might expect it to feel like a Camry inside, it doesn't, which is disappointing. There are mostly harder plastics and a lot of different materials and textures going on, but it all fits together well so I expect the materials to maintain their durability for many years to come. The seats are wide and comfortable, and storage areas and cupholders abound, including a unique (and huge) center console that accommodates hanging file folders and surely a widescreen laptop or two. Knobs and buttons in the center stack are large and easy to use, but the Tundra is so huge that some of them, including the radio, required me to lean over to reach them.
I simply can't say enough about the CrewMax's rear seat, which offers the roomiest accommodations in the class. I could lean back and stretch my legs easily and I am 6 feet tall. Absolutely everyone who sat in the back seat commented on the amount of room and when I showed them that said rear seat actually reclined, they went crazy, not expecting anything like that. Both my son and dog loved the power rear window that retracts all the way into the rear of the cab. Combined with all four windows that go all the way into the doors, you don't need to spring for the optional sunroof.
So is it more Austin or Amarillo? Trick question—it's both. Just like a modern full-size pickup truck should be, work all day, play all night, and the Tundra is no longer a light-load, casual-pick, truck-user kind of truck. It can still fill that role, much as many other full-size trucks can, but it's now also a true work truck that's at home on job site, ranch, or on the way to the rig. A heavy duty diesel is rumored to be on the way in a couple of years, so that could make things even more interesting. But for now, this is plenty.
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