Over the past several months I’ve had the opportunity to
drive a variety of large vehicles. The Ford Expedition.
Toyota Land Cruiser. GMC Sierra
2500HD. Lexus LX 570. Chrysler Aspen. Jeep Commander. Ford
F-350. Some are big. Some are bigger.
But in none of them did I have the sense of being in
something Larger than Life. You may think you’ve driven large
vehicles. But unless they have a bulldog hood ornament on the
front end or unless you’re an engineer—as in “railroad,” not ME,
EE, IE, etc.—you’ve really not gone transportationally big until
you’ve been in the H2.
The H2 has approximately 10 inches of ground clearance. Opt
for the optional running boards. The H2 as Driven had an
attractive piece of molding down there. Had my words had their
intended effect, said molding would have melted. I think I
pulled something on my inner thigh while hoisting myself into the
driver’s seat. I could have probably used several minutes of
stretching and overall conditioning before attempting to get into
the vehicle. You think I’m exaggerating? Think again. I’m
sitting at my desk right now and can still feel it.
Of course, once you’re behind the wheel. . .well, then little
things don’t much matter. Like the six inches of snow we had one
morning. While that may have caused more than a smidgen of
unhappiness had I had a conventional vehicle in the driveway,
with the H2, it was not a concern in the least. What was a
concern was getting the snow off of the hood. The windshield
wasn’t a problem because it is flat. But the hood. . .another
problem entirely. It is so high up that unless you’re member of
the Paul Bunyan Society, chances are you’re going to pull
something in your shoulder as you attempt to make the reach. At
least that has the effect of balancing out the pulled groin
muscle. (A related problem was ice freeze on a wiper blade:
while driving along in the falling and blowing snow with a
certain amount of happiness, ice formed on one of the wiper
blades, and watching it and calculated where the ground is in
relation to it resulted in the answer that the only way to handle
it was to put the front defroster on full—and that Vortec
6.2-liter V8 blew the necessary hot air to TCB.)
Meanwhile, back behind the wheel. . . I recall driving the
first H2 (oddly enough, a drive that took in, in part, downtown
Chicago during morning rush
hour: it was OK for me, but I don’t think that the people around
me—those down on street level—much cared for it). I recall being
underwhelmed by the accoutrements of the interior, which were
essentially bits and pieces borrowed from other GM products. But
the current version is something else entirely. The
leather-trimmed interior is—and I say this knowing full well that
it is a word that one probably ought not use in relation to a
hardass vehicle like the H2—stunning. Not only are you in a
cabin far from the maddening crowd, but you’re comfortable, to
boot.
I turned on the XM radio to the Laugh USA channel. And I
heard a comedian talking about owning a Cadillac back in the
1960s, when “a car was a car.” He told all the usual sort of
jokes about the giant rolling sheet metal monstrosity. But then
he—and I wish I could remember his name because it is his joke
and it was pretty funny—talked about the way that it sucked gas
that he figured it had a carburetor made by Hoover and that when
he went to the gas station, the attendant (remember those?) told
him to turn off the ignition because the idling car was using
more gas than the pump was capable of putting into the tank.
While not being quite that bad, I must say that with the lightest
foot possible (let’s not forget that pulled muscle) I only
managed 11 miles per gallon, city and highway combined.
Still, there’s just something about that H2. . . .
Vehicle as Driven
Engine:6.2-liter V8. Aluminum block and head.
Horsepower: 393 @ 5,700 rpm
Torque: 415 lb-ft @ 4,400 rpm
Transmission: Six-speed, RWD
Wheelbase: 122.8 in.
Overall length: 203.5 in.
Height: Air suspension: 78.5 in.; standard: 79.2 in.
Width: 81.2 in.
Curb weight: 6,614 lb.
MSRP: $55,510
