Tribute bands are a beautiful thing: talented musicians who use their artistic gifts to duplicate other people's creativity and style for stupid easy money. Toyota’s full-size Tundra pickup is cut from the same cloth. Much like your favorite KISS wannabes, the big T's truck earns its keep by imitating Detroit’s core competency. Supposedly, that ain’t enough; US pickup truck buyers are thought to be more brand loyal than Queen fans (if you pardon the reference). So does the Tundra have what it takes to evoke the masters and rock the house?
The Tundra’s curvaceous sheetmetal hearkens back to the last-gen Ford F150– with only a butch twin-bar grille as a modern concession to big-rig boldness. The soft but hard theme continues downstream, as the curves end in hindquarters that feel distinctly truckish– in the nicest possible way. The Tundra's double cab profile proclaims its intention to haul more than mulch. Meanwhile, the door-mounted "Limited" decals proclaim its buyer’s appreciation of life’s finer things (like you’re too "country" for a Lexus rig). It’s all good, since people who buy a megabuck truck aren’t looking for something that says “tough” like a Texas lawman… Oh wait, they are.
int.jpgLike a repressed trust fund baby, the Tundra's interior displays a smattering of external influences with no identity of its own. The dash bears more than a passing resemblance to the aforementioned F150, with gauges influenced (ripped off) from a late-90s Explorer. The interior fit and finish is as spotty as 101 Dalmatians; the Tundra sports everything from excess A-pillar flash casting (sans side-curtain airbags) to a fistful of revolting plastic plugs, which date back to the advent of grunge rock. In this age of high dollar design budgets, the polymer droppings littering the dash, steering wheel and console are a major disappointment. I mean, we’re talking 36 large.
While Lexus-like door panels, leather trim, navigation and JBL tunes trick the truck; the Tundra’s interior is still an ergonomic earthquake. Corolla-esque door handles look feminine and require dainty fingers to manipulate without continual restorative manicures. Grabbing too much column-shifter activates the wiper stalk, while a bizarre dash-mounted button is the sole method for manual first gear engagement. Rotary HVAC controls operate without fluidity or grace. The power retracting rear window is the Tundra's sole redeeming feature; it increases the open-air convertible factor and encourages meaningful conversations with your cargo. (Expect another horrid dash plug for Tundra's lacking this option.)
So this rig ain't no Cowboy Cadillac, but does it work hard? You betcha.
side2.jpgThe Tundra's relatively trim dimensions make parking lot maneuvering a pleasure. But it's bigger where it counts; the double cab's stunted bed is still the longest in its class. The truck holsters a 4.7L V8 that spreads its 313 ft.-lbs. of torque throughout the rev range like peanut butter on bread. Teamed with a smart five-speed automatic, the V8 is always ready to roll, with quick downshifts and boundless passing power. Tundra's fast-ratio steering feels right, keeping the "Tokyo Drift" limited-slip rear axle in check on wet pavement. Rear drum brakes disappoint on paper, but even with a spongy pedal, stop the Tundra with resounding authority. The Toyota's light-hearted frame ensures a rough road lets the dash, cab and bed all dance to the beat of a different drummer.
The Tundra's hardware is far from class leading, but the rig passes the all-important truck test: towing. While the V8 needs all 32 intelligently-timed valves to tow a 6000lb load, the autobox makes sure multiple downshifts motivate the Tundra to hillclimb like a pack mule. Expect a decent 12mpg with highway towing, down from the 19mpg rating awarded from the EPA. Even with a land-yacht behind it, the Tundra’s mediocre stopping hardware yanked all and sundry to a standstill with zero drama. Yet the Tundra's flexi-flyer frame showed telltale signs of weakness: the bed pulled away from the cab, notably worse than many a Detroit-bred beat-to-shit work truck towing the same load.
2007_Tundra_03-1.jpgMotown still does something right: they know their trucks. While the Tundra performs adequately it doesn’t reassure and impress like one of its homegrown competitors. And the inverse relationship between interior quality and asking price make Toyota’s pickup a not-so-funny joke. After thirteen years of truck know-how, Toyota still doesn't have the juice to school the Big Dogs. Ah but…
Remember Toyota's first minivan? It was a mid-engined deathtrap, no match for Chrysler's baby. But Toyota eventually got it right, building a showroom superstar in the Sienna. The 2007 Tundra is set to bust a move with fresh threads. And it’ll be assembled by folks who know a thing or two about trucks: Texans. For now, Ford's class-leading F150 can rest on its laurels. Next year, who knows? Imitation may soon prove to be the sincerest form of market share.
[Toyota provided the vehicle reviewed, insurances, taxes and a tank of gas.]
source : www.thetruthaboutcars.com
The Tundra’s curvaceous sheetmetal hearkens back to the last-gen Ford F150– with only a butch twin-bar grille as a modern concession to big-rig boldness. The soft but hard theme continues downstream, as the curves end in hindquarters that feel distinctly truckish– in the nicest possible way. The Tundra's double cab profile proclaims its intention to haul more than mulch. Meanwhile, the door-mounted "Limited" decals proclaim its buyer’s appreciation of life’s finer things (like you’re too "country" for a Lexus rig). It’s all good, since people who buy a megabuck truck aren’t looking for something that says “tough” like a Texas lawman… Oh wait, they are.
int.jpgLike a repressed trust fund baby, the Tundra's interior displays a smattering of external influences with no identity of its own. The dash bears more than a passing resemblance to the aforementioned F150, with gauges influenced (ripped off) from a late-90s Explorer. The interior fit and finish is as spotty as 101 Dalmatians; the Tundra sports everything from excess A-pillar flash casting (sans side-curtain airbags) to a fistful of revolting plastic plugs, which date back to the advent of grunge rock. In this age of high dollar design budgets, the polymer droppings littering the dash, steering wheel and console are a major disappointment. I mean, we’re talking 36 large.
While Lexus-like door panels, leather trim, navigation and JBL tunes trick the truck; the Tundra’s interior is still an ergonomic earthquake. Corolla-esque door handles look feminine and require dainty fingers to manipulate without continual restorative manicures. Grabbing too much column-shifter activates the wiper stalk, while a bizarre dash-mounted button is the sole method for manual first gear engagement. Rotary HVAC controls operate without fluidity or grace. The power retracting rear window is the Tundra's sole redeeming feature; it increases the open-air convertible factor and encourages meaningful conversations with your cargo. (Expect another horrid dash plug for Tundra's lacking this option.)
So this rig ain't no Cowboy Cadillac, but does it work hard? You betcha.
side2.jpgThe Tundra's relatively trim dimensions make parking lot maneuvering a pleasure. But it's bigger where it counts; the double cab's stunted bed is still the longest in its class. The truck holsters a 4.7L V8 that spreads its 313 ft.-lbs. of torque throughout the rev range like peanut butter on bread. Teamed with a smart five-speed automatic, the V8 is always ready to roll, with quick downshifts and boundless passing power. Tundra's fast-ratio steering feels right, keeping the "Tokyo Drift" limited-slip rear axle in check on wet pavement. Rear drum brakes disappoint on paper, but even with a spongy pedal, stop the Tundra with resounding authority. The Toyota's light-hearted frame ensures a rough road lets the dash, cab and bed all dance to the beat of a different drummer.
The Tundra's hardware is far from class leading, but the rig passes the all-important truck test: towing. While the V8 needs all 32 intelligently-timed valves to tow a 6000lb load, the autobox makes sure multiple downshifts motivate the Tundra to hillclimb like a pack mule. Expect a decent 12mpg with highway towing, down from the 19mpg rating awarded from the EPA. Even with a land-yacht behind it, the Tundra’s mediocre stopping hardware yanked all and sundry to a standstill with zero drama. Yet the Tundra's flexi-flyer frame showed telltale signs of weakness: the bed pulled away from the cab, notably worse than many a Detroit-bred beat-to-shit work truck towing the same load.
2007_Tundra_03-1.jpgMotown still does something right: they know their trucks. While the Tundra performs adequately it doesn’t reassure and impress like one of its homegrown competitors. And the inverse relationship between interior quality and asking price make Toyota’s pickup a not-so-funny joke. After thirteen years of truck know-how, Toyota still doesn't have the juice to school the Big Dogs. Ah but…
Remember Toyota's first minivan? It was a mid-engined deathtrap, no match for Chrysler's baby. But Toyota eventually got it right, building a showroom superstar in the Sienna. The 2007 Tundra is set to bust a move with fresh threads. And it’ll be assembled by folks who know a thing or two about trucks: Texans. For now, Ford's class-leading F150 can rest on its laurels. Next year, who knows? Imitation may soon prove to be the sincerest form of market share.
[Toyota provided the vehicle reviewed, insurances, taxes and a tank of gas.]
source : www.thetruthaboutcars.com
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