I’ve never been too much of a truck guy. I grew up in a household that never had them, and aside from the “Twister” Ram 2500 I’ve never really wanted one, but over the past few months, I’ve been testing out all sorts of trucks in different size segments. During my evaluation of trucks like the Ford Maverick, Nissan Frontier Hardbody, Chevy Colorado ZR2 Bison, Jeep Gladiator Mojave and Chevy Silverado 1500 ZR2, I realized something. There’s a clear truck hierarchy.
Something I kept coming back to, no matter which truck I was in, was how big my truck was in comparison to everyone else’s. Call it jealousy, call it immaturity. Call it whatever you want, but it is not something I was able to get away from. Every time I was behind the wheel of one of these (mostly) pavement princesses, I wanted to figure out where I stood in comparison to everyone else. I also couldn’t help but wonder if other truck drivers felt the same way I did — I have a sneaking suspicion they do.
Full Disclosure: Nissan, Chevy, Jeep and Ford all lent me these trucks with full gas tanks to do as I pleased. I spent most of the time wondering what other men thought of me.
These feelings really came to a head when I was behind the wheel of the massive $77,750 Silverado 1500 ZR2. I felt like the king of the road with my 420-horsepower 6.2-liter V8, massive front grille and chunky off-road tires. I looked down on other truck owners in their base Silverados, GMC Canyons and Jeep Gladiators with disdain. I was the king of the road, the master of my domain. Then, I was stopped at a red light in rural northeast Pennsylvania and a GMC Sierra 2500 HD pulled up. I could hear its 6.6-liter Duramax diesel burbling and feel my heart sink to the pit of my stomach — I was left completely and utterly little bro’d. I wonder if the guy behind the wheel of that truck knew it. Did he know I was sitting in my massive, expensive truck, thinking about how I just got son’d? This is a rhetorical question; he absolutely did. I’d even bet money that he paid all of that cash for a big truck when a small one would have fit the bill just fine because of this very thing I’m talking about.
In my time at Jalopnik, I’ve driven dozens and dozens of cars, and I can say with confidence I’ve never gotten this superiority/inadequacy feeling before. Whether I’m in a $300,000 sports car or a $28,000 eco crossover, I haven’t really thought about how I was perceived by the outside world. However, being in a truck makes you instantly aware of where you are on the trucky food chain. You’re also very aware of the fact every other dude in his truck is thinking the exact same thing. (By the way, if you enter my comments section — say you own a truck and that you don’t feel this way — I truly do not care and I don’t believe you.)
The truck hierarchy is incredibly important, and sitting at the very tippy top isn’t stuff like Heavy Duty Rams, Tesla Cybertrucks and the outlandish GMC Hummer EV. No. At the very top of the truck pecking order are old trucks, stuff from the ‘70s through the ’90s. Those are trucks for real men or whatever, and just like me, everyone else in their brand new lifted pickup trucks knows we are just cosplaying as someone who would actually have and use one of those older pickups.
We are simply posers, constantly in search of something that’ll actually make us feel like useful men — men who’d just hold on to a ratty diesel Ford F-150 rather than leasing the newest King Ranch Texas Edition Back The Blue These Colors Don’t Run 1776 Edition trucks. When it comes to trucks, much like supercars, the real cred is in the old, vintage stuff.
Next up in the hierarchy comes one-ton heavy-duty trucks, your Ford F-250s and 350s, Ram 2500s and Silverado/Sierra HDs. If they’re diesel you get extra points, because there’s something a bit lame about a one-ton gasser. I don’t make the rules. From there, it’s off-road specials like the Ram TRX, F-150 Raptor, Chevy’s various ZR2s, GMC’s AT4s and Toyota’s TRD Pros. Big tires always get more points. After that, it’s regular half-ton pickups, the best-selling vehicles in the whole country. You know what they are. They’re everywhere. After that come compact pickups like the Tacoma, Canyon and Ranger. Now, we get to the bottom, trucks that get zero respect: the Hyundai Santa Cruz, Honda Ridgeline, Ford Maverick and Jeep Gladiator.
We’ll get to the Mav and Hyundai in a minute, but first I want to talk about the Gladiator. I thought this thing was a respectable truck when I picked it up a few weeks ago, but I quickly learned this was not the case. I did a quick run to Costco in the $65,865 Gladiator Mojave I was testing (it gives you all sorts of fun, desert running off-road bits and some very neat orange touches). I parked the Jeep next to a Cybertruck and took a picture of the two. I then posted online saying “A truck and a Cybertruck,” and I got a bunch of responses and even some DMs letting me know the Gladiator isn’t a real truck. Ouch.
Still, I wasn’t totally convinced. A few days later I used the Gladiator to finish moving some stuff from my old apartment to my new one. It’s the perfect task for a truck. Unfortunately, its bed is kind of useless. You see, it’s far shallower than other mid-size truck beds at just 17.5 inches. For reference, the Toyota Tacoma’s 5-foot bed is 21.2 inches deep. That might not sound like a ton, but it makes a difference. It means that even with moderately tall items the Jeep-installed tonneau cover won’t latch into place. Of course, it was raining (it always rains when you move), so all of my shit got wet, man. Not cool, Jeep!
Side Note: I used my grandmother’s beat-up 2004 Chrysler Town & Country to do the bulk of my moving, and that suited me much better. If you are considering buying a brand-new truck, you should really just buy a minivan.
Anyway, the Jeep Gladiator, as neat as it is (convertibles are always awesome) isn’t realllllly a truck if you ask me. Luckily, the Silverado with its massive bed and brilliant Multi-Flex tailgate made moving some more stuff from my in-laws’ house to my new place a cinch. Even with its massively high suspension, the truck made getting shit in and out of the bed nice and easy. The giant rear seats also meant I could put a whole lot of more valuable stuff in the cabin. I’ve got a full off-road video review of the Silverado ZR2 coming up soon, so be on the lookout for that bad boy.
Back to the Santa Cruz, Ridgeline and Maverick. They exist in a really interesting place because I don’t think truck people really respect them, and they almost certainly see them at the bottom of the hierarchy, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t think the drivers of these trucks give a shit about all of that. Why would they? In all honesty, they bought some of the best trucks on the market (the SC and Maverick at least, as the Ridgeline is getting old).
If more truck owners were honest with themselves about what sort of tasks they need to get done with their pickups, they would opt for one of these three vehicles. No one needs a truck as big as the Silverado ZR2, a Ford F-150 Raptor or a Tundra, but they want it because of the image it puts out into the world. Just hope a one-ton pickup doesn’t pull up next to you at a gas station, because your ego might not be able to take it.
Just remember, the world revolves around big trucks, so you better just get used to it. I have the best truck, and who cares what anyone else says? Right?