The Unexpected Joy of a Car Changing Your Mind

This week I've had the "pleasure" of traveling for business, which generally means a bargain rental car, modest hotel room and meals I would not generally pay for myself. Luckily, having been called upon to perform some tasks hugely beyond my normal scope of work, I had to haul a bunch of equipment and supplies with me across the state, which necessitated a car exceeding the capacity of my normal, soul-sucking Hyundai Accent.

What I ended up in was a 2016 GMC Acadia SLT-1, a vehicle I was neither excited about nor particularly fearful of. GMCs, to me, had always been worker-grade Chevys, the cars people bought when they couldn't afford the badge-engineered equivalent, didn't care about brand heritage, style or substance, and just needed a truck or SUV that "got the job done." I was unmoved by the Enterprise employees swooning and remarks to the effect of "Oh, you're getting the nice one."

I've always liked the macho styling of GMC vehicles - it scratches a sort of "this is what real trucks look like" itch - and the Acadia is no different. With a blocky exterior, strong lines, attractive head and tail lights with tasteful LED running lights (which I generally abhor), it looks quite sharp from the outside.

Much to my surprise, it was similarly attractive on the inside, being at least AS nice as, if not better looking than my parents' 2006 Mercedes-Benz ML320. Granted, that is a ten year-old car, but the tasteful interior was nevertheless surprising. Soft leathers, ergonomic controls, a decent-but-not-fancy touchscreen interface and comfortable seats made the cabin a very pleasant place to be for nearly ten hours of driving over two days. 

Performance was pleasing too, with the 3.6L V6 providing ample torque to get up to highway speeds and enough horsepower to pass sluggish semis. The ride was supple and soaked up bumps and highway expansion joints with aplomb, never becoming jarring or feeling too stiff, as SUVs can occasionally be to prevent rollover incidents. The ample cargo space swallowed all we could throw at it with room to spare and back seat passengers were also pleasantly surprised by the supportive captain's chairs. 

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It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows though, as the steering was very vague and light, the seats lacked bolsters to hold you in place during the rather significant body roll of cloverleaf interchanges and the gas mileage was fairly atrocious. The touch screen decided when it wanted to respond to inputs and the materials of the interior felt a bit on the cheap side, but at least they looked nice. 

Upon returning the car, the Enterprise staff seemed to have the same opinion, inquiring "Isn't it nice?" as if it was cause for disbelief. I responded in the affirmative and expressed my surprise at the fact as well. 

My "Coyote Slayer" Mazda 3 HB was dwarfed by the equipment-swallowing Acadia.

My "Coyote Slayer" Mazda 3 HB was dwarfed by the equipment-swallowing Acadia.

Ultimately, I don't think I would buy an Acadia if it were my money on the table - I'd look at the Toyota Sequoia or Highlander, the Mazda CX-9, Honda Pilot or Ford Explorer. Interiors may lack the initial quality or style of the GMC's, but they're almost certain to prove more reliable, achieve better fuel economy and retain their resale value better. 

But my point is that we all tend to have presumptions about brands and vehicles, based on either word of mouth or our own prior experiences. I once drove a Chevy Trailblazer (GMC Envoy clone) and the instrument panel would only sometimes work when you were driving, and the lights chose when they did and didn't work, which undoubtedly contributed to my negative impression about GM vehicles in general. 

Times change, companies change and cars change too. Sometimes it's for the better, and I think we owe it to ourselves to constantly be challenging our predispositions. It helps us be better consumers, offer better advice as trusted automotive enthusiasts and, every once in a while, we'll be surprised by what we find.