Road Test
Full Test: 2000 Dodge Dakota Quad Cab
All I Need to Know I Learned in a Dakota
All of a sudden, it didn't seem to matter anymore. Not the test, not the image. He looked down the side of the hill and thought, "I can't do this." Foolhardiness had brought him up the incline, and fear was inhibiting him from his descent. Man against nature. Man against self. Rashness against rationality. He remembered his wife, his kids, his responsibilities. All depending on him. "Damn it, how the hell do I get myself out of this?" He caught a glimpse of his mortality and realized that he wasn't ready.
Then the voice of the ingénue road warrior piped up. "I'll do it."
"You can't. You've never even been four-wheeling before. What are you going to do if you get into trouble?"
"I can do it. I know I can." The prospect of the truck flipping over, or running over a sharp rock, or nose-diving off a cliff failed to faze her, for they never registered in her inexperienced mind as distinct threats. For her, it was merely a roller coaster ride, with a guaranteed safe return and a corn dog at the end.
With that, he accompanied her down the hill, him walking, her driving. "Take it slow. Easy does it. Brake it more." Call it the foolish bravado of youth, or the same dumb luck with which God graces babies and drunks, but she maneuvered that truck down the inclement slope with considerable gusto.
He admired her and her recklessness that, at one time, he too had possessed. But it was an admiration wrought with a tinge of resentment. "My esteem for you has raised about eight notches." Then, in the next breath, he growled, "Thanks for making me look like a wuss."
"You're not a wuss. You're just...domesticated."
He thought of his lost youth, as well as the endless days of heckling ahead of him. He didn't like what he saw. As it usually does, machismo won out over safety; the desire to salvage one's ego is always stronger than any fear.
And then he climbed that mountain. He not only went to the planned stop but went further, ascending until he reached the crest. He looked down upon the vista that could only be earned at the apex, each elevated foot improving the view exponentially. He ingested the rarefied air, the utter silence, the step closer to eternity. And he thought, "I can still do this."
Perhaps it was confidence that was, in part, derived by the performance of the truck. Our Dodge Dakota won a whole truckload of fans during its weeklong tenure here at the office, inexorably due to the remarkable resemblance between the ride quality of this big truck and a comfortable car. That's the whole point of the Dakota, to blur the lines between the utility of a truck and the convenience of a car; as the ad campaign says, "Cowboys have friends, too." How I miss those fun beach trips with 10 of us crammed in the back and holding on for dear life! But due to draconian laws that forbid human riders in the bed, the extent of passenger capacity was pretty much limited to your sweetheart and mother-in-law.
The four doors of the Quad Cab, unlike those of the Nissan Frontier, are actually quite functional. The friends, five of them if they're not carrying their lariats and spurs, will be able to head on over to the rodeo in relative comfort, though they'll notice the lack of a map holder and the stingy foot room. Even some of our tall editors managed to park themselves in the rear seats without too many complaints, though they did note the lack of headrests (an issue since the rear glass is directly behind the head) and the protruding lip of the body which made for less than graceful ingress/egress (although anything must be better than getting into a Jeep Wrangler. What a pain in the keister). If you get rid of these bothersome passengers, our truck, equipped with 3.92 axle ratio, can tow 5,800 pounds with the optional tow hitch, while the 5.9-liter V8 can haul 6,100 pounds of crappola.
If you're a lone wolf with no friends, the rear seats provide 26 extra cubic feet of space when flipped up, and considerate straps reveal themselves to keep your stuff from rolling around back there. The front seats lent themselves to a high degree of comfort for various-sized editors, from relatively petite females to 6-foot-2-inch ones who are always whining about seats not going back far enough. The bed comes in at 5 feet 3 inches with its 38-cubic-foot carrying capacity, which is slightly larger than its competition but still lacking for true pickup versatility. The Dakota Regular Cab and Club Cab will extend the box length by 1 foot three inches, but, of course, they sacrifice the two rear doors. A security guard at the local Target stopped us to mention how much he liked the looks of the truck, but that the bed is too small for his needs. An optional bed extender by the good people at Mopar cleverly lengthens the space by utilizing the tailgate as bed space and metal tubes that transform into an impromptu tailgate. Dodge is nice enough to provide a standard bedliner, which makes it easy to keep from scratching the paint job.
And what a paint job it was! The Flame Red Clear Coat wraps itself over the distinctive shape of the Dakota, which looks unlike anything else on the road, save perhaps its full-sized Ram cousin. Yes, it's one big honker of a vehicle, but at times we felt that it was too pretty, with the polished chrome front grille that denotes the SLT Plus package. Just too many gleaming surfaces - a true cowboy would wince at the prettyboy image that it kept recalling. It's like Rob Lowe in a 10-gallon hat. Doesn't look awful, just a little - incongruent. It looked great with all the mud caked on it, much to the chagrin of our fearless, fastidious leader. We would probably prefer the body-colored front grille that is usually shown on advertisements. Despite that, it was a hit with adults and runts alike - our managing editor's already car-freak toddler showed his preference over any other car, repeating "BIG TRUCK" - or "TWUCK" - every time he caught a glimpse of it.
The Dakota rides much like a car, with its easy-to-modulate steering, especially notable for a truck. The steering is nicely weighted and has no real on-center dead spot. Although we noticed a slight alignment issue which veered the truck to the right, we're hoping that this is an isolated problem with our test vehicle. The additional weight of the Quad Cab between the front and rear wheels provides an extra balance and aids handling. Our editors found it to be no problem to ride in and drive this truck on a regular basis. One editor even commented that this would be a good family car to haul around the missus and the younguns in comfort - trucks are not usually deemed appropriate family cars.
The most notable thing here is the non-truckness of this truck. You don't really hear the powerful engine unless you stab the throttle -- it generates a pleasing growl that lets you know that it's ready to roll. We found that the 4.7-liter Next Generation Magnum V8, a twin of that found in its brethren, the Jeep Grand Cherokee, is a vast improvement over the previous V8 engines, the basic design of which is nearing 40 years. Strong on low-end torque, but very short on mid-range grunt refinement; the powertrain never lets you forget that you were driving a truck. The current engine delivers seamless, immediate power in almost any driving situation, roaring up 235 horsepower at 4,800 rpm and 295 foot-pounds of torque at a low 3200 revs -- quite ample whether merging onto the freeway, cruising the strip or rock-hopping. The 24-gallon tank proved to drain quickly, with the sticker stating a mpg rating of 14 city and 19 highway. Ours provided 13 mpg in mixed city and highway driving.
Our test model came with four-wheel ABS and the brake pedal feel was excellent; you rarely realized that you were stopping a really big twuck - oops, truck. An overdrive-off button on the end of the shift column lets you use engine braking to help slow the Dakota on steep declines, saving the brakes for when you really need them.
The interior is remarkably carlike as well. The fabric covering the seats is purely utilitarian but you wouldn't expect otherwise from a pickup truck. The steering wheel is pleasantly sized, eschewing a "big rig" XL diameter for something more manageable. The stereo controls have the same flaws as all Chrysler/Dodge products, namely the small, multifunctional buttons which mean that you have to take your eyes off the road in order to decipher their use. Storage space is plentiful up front, with a giant glove box, overhead storage bins, cubbies, and the center console that's large enough to organize all your detritus. Flip it up and you've got room for a third passenger up front - it's up to you if you think he's detritus or not.
The cabin is quite refined, with much less wind noise than one would expect to bounce off a high-profile cab and large mirrors (5" by 7", which provided excellent visibility). Road and tire noise emitted from the P235/75R15 XL OWL all-season rubber was rarely evident. The truck proved to be well finished, with barely a rattle jolting the interior even when hitting an expansion joint at high speeds. It ate up that expansion joint, too, with the suspension system doing an excellent job of dampening road irregularities. The transmission shifted with remarkable agility, although we did notice a slight lag when shifting from third to fourth gear on an incline.
And did we mention? The thing totally kicked ass off-road. The shift-on-the-fly transfer case on our four-wheel drive was tested in the hills north of the Santa Clarita Valley, which is better known for its Magic Mountains than real mountains unless you live there. Then you discover the little back roads that lead to some challenging curves and dirt trails. The only hindrance was that the view from the driver's seat over the substantial hood was not as view-a-rific as one would like, but as we've mentioned, the truck climbed over the beige eruptions in the stratum while fording streams with equanimity, even joviality. The power was ample enough to push on rocks and inclines, and the suspension travel kept it well above ground level when going over uneven surfaces.
Somehow, this truck imparted some pretty valuable lessons. One editor decided, after figuring that the truck had about a shoehorn's chance in hell to fit into her parent's garage, that she needed to move out. Another one gained a newfound sense of what it was like to be a big, strong, gnarly man, and she kind of enjoyed it.
As for the editor with the ersatz existential crisis, he learned that life is not composed of always knowing what's around the next corner, of meticulous planning and assured execution. Nor is it a sense of invulnerability, of taking precarious risks of your supposed immortality.
Perhaps it is a balance of the two. Quite appropriate, since the Dakota Quad Cab's raison d'etre is to balance truck utility with car comfort and style. What a bargain - for the price of the vehicle you not only get a stylish, functional truck but also a metaphor for life!
Then the voice of the ingénue road warrior piped up. "I'll do it."
"You can't. You've never even been four-wheeling before. What are you going to do if you get into trouble?"
"I can do it. I know I can." The prospect of the truck flipping over, or running over a sharp rock, or nose-diving off a cliff failed to faze her, for they never registered in her inexperienced mind as distinct threats. For her, it was merely a roller coaster ride, with a guaranteed safe return and a corn dog at the end.
With that, he accompanied her down the hill, him walking, her driving. "Take it slow. Easy does it. Brake it more." Call it the foolish bravado of youth, or the same dumb luck with which God graces babies and drunks, but she maneuvered that truck down the inclement slope with considerable gusto.
He admired her and her recklessness that, at one time, he too had possessed. But it was an admiration wrought with a tinge of resentment. "My esteem for you has raised about eight notches." Then, in the next breath, he growled, "Thanks for making me look like a wuss."
"You're not a wuss. You're just...domesticated."
He thought of his lost youth, as well as the endless days of heckling ahead of him. He didn't like what he saw. As it usually does, machismo won out over safety; the desire to salvage one's ego is always stronger than any fear.
And then he climbed that mountain. He not only went to the planned stop but went further, ascending until he reached the crest. He looked down upon the vista that could only be earned at the apex, each elevated foot improving the view exponentially. He ingested the rarefied air, the utter silence, the step closer to eternity. And he thought, "I can still do this."
Perhaps it was confidence that was, in part, derived by the performance of the truck. Our Dodge Dakota won a whole truckload of fans during its weeklong tenure here at the office, inexorably due to the remarkable resemblance between the ride quality of this big truck and a comfortable car. That's the whole point of the Dakota, to blur the lines between the utility of a truck and the convenience of a car; as the ad campaign says, "Cowboys have friends, too." How I miss those fun beach trips with 10 of us crammed in the back and holding on for dear life! But due to draconian laws that forbid human riders in the bed, the extent of passenger capacity was pretty much limited to your sweetheart and mother-in-law.
The four doors of the Quad Cab, unlike those of the Nissan Frontier, are actually quite functional. The friends, five of them if they're not carrying their lariats and spurs, will be able to head on over to the rodeo in relative comfort, though they'll notice the lack of a map holder and the stingy foot room. Even some of our tall editors managed to park themselves in the rear seats without too many complaints, though they did note the lack of headrests (an issue since the rear glass is directly behind the head) and the protruding lip of the body which made for less than graceful ingress/egress (although anything must be better than getting into a Jeep Wrangler. What a pain in the keister). If you get rid of these bothersome passengers, our truck, equipped with 3.92 axle ratio, can tow 5,800 pounds with the optional tow hitch, while the 5.9-liter V8 can haul 6,100 pounds of crappola.
If you're a lone wolf with no friends, the rear seats provide 26 extra cubic feet of space when flipped up, and considerate straps reveal themselves to keep your stuff from rolling around back there. The front seats lent themselves to a high degree of comfort for various-sized editors, from relatively petite females to 6-foot-2-inch ones who are always whining about seats not going back far enough. The bed comes in at 5 feet 3 inches with its 38-cubic-foot carrying capacity, which is slightly larger than its competition but still lacking for true pickup versatility. The Dakota Regular Cab and Club Cab will extend the box length by 1 foot three inches, but, of course, they sacrifice the two rear doors. A security guard at the local Target stopped us to mention how much he liked the looks of the truck, but that the bed is too small for his needs. An optional bed extender by the good people at Mopar cleverly lengthens the space by utilizing the tailgate as bed space and metal tubes that transform into an impromptu tailgate. Dodge is nice enough to provide a standard bedliner, which makes it easy to keep from scratching the paint job.
And what a paint job it was! The Flame Red Clear Coat wraps itself over the distinctive shape of the Dakota, which looks unlike anything else on the road, save perhaps its full-sized Ram cousin. Yes, it's one big honker of a vehicle, but at times we felt that it was too pretty, with the polished chrome front grille that denotes the SLT Plus package. Just too many gleaming surfaces - a true cowboy would wince at the prettyboy image that it kept recalling. It's like Rob Lowe in a 10-gallon hat. Doesn't look awful, just a little - incongruent. It looked great with all the mud caked on it, much to the chagrin of our fearless, fastidious leader. We would probably prefer the body-colored front grille that is usually shown on advertisements. Despite that, it was a hit with adults and runts alike - our managing editor's already car-freak toddler showed his preference over any other car, repeating "BIG TRUCK" - or "TWUCK" - every time he caught a glimpse of it.
The Dakota rides much like a car, with its easy-to-modulate steering, especially notable for a truck. The steering is nicely weighted and has no real on-center dead spot. Although we noticed a slight alignment issue which veered the truck to the right, we're hoping that this is an isolated problem with our test vehicle. The additional weight of the Quad Cab between the front and rear wheels provides an extra balance and aids handling. Our editors found it to be no problem to ride in and drive this truck on a regular basis. One editor even commented that this would be a good family car to haul around the missus and the younguns in comfort - trucks are not usually deemed appropriate family cars.
The most notable thing here is the non-truckness of this truck. You don't really hear the powerful engine unless you stab the throttle -- it generates a pleasing growl that lets you know that it's ready to roll. We found that the 4.7-liter Next Generation Magnum V8, a twin of that found in its brethren, the Jeep Grand Cherokee, is a vast improvement over the previous V8 engines, the basic design of which is nearing 40 years. Strong on low-end torque, but very short on mid-range grunt refinement; the powertrain never lets you forget that you were driving a truck. The current engine delivers seamless, immediate power in almost any driving situation, roaring up 235 horsepower at 4,800 rpm and 295 foot-pounds of torque at a low 3200 revs -- quite ample whether merging onto the freeway, cruising the strip or rock-hopping. The 24-gallon tank proved to drain quickly, with the sticker stating a mpg rating of 14 city and 19 highway. Ours provided 13 mpg in mixed city and highway driving.
Our test model came with four-wheel ABS and the brake pedal feel was excellent; you rarely realized that you were stopping a really big twuck - oops, truck. An overdrive-off button on the end of the shift column lets you use engine braking to help slow the Dakota on steep declines, saving the brakes for when you really need them.
The interior is remarkably carlike as well. The fabric covering the seats is purely utilitarian but you wouldn't expect otherwise from a pickup truck. The steering wheel is pleasantly sized, eschewing a "big rig" XL diameter for something more manageable. The stereo controls have the same flaws as all Chrysler/Dodge products, namely the small, multifunctional buttons which mean that you have to take your eyes off the road in order to decipher their use. Storage space is plentiful up front, with a giant glove box, overhead storage bins, cubbies, and the center console that's large enough to organize all your detritus. Flip it up and you've got room for a third passenger up front - it's up to you if you think he's detritus or not.
The cabin is quite refined, with much less wind noise than one would expect to bounce off a high-profile cab and large mirrors (5" by 7", which provided excellent visibility). Road and tire noise emitted from the P235/75R15 XL OWL all-season rubber was rarely evident. The truck proved to be well finished, with barely a rattle jolting the interior even when hitting an expansion joint at high speeds. It ate up that expansion joint, too, with the suspension system doing an excellent job of dampening road irregularities. The transmission shifted with remarkable agility, although we did notice a slight lag when shifting from third to fourth gear on an incline.
And did we mention? The thing totally kicked ass off-road. The shift-on-the-fly transfer case on our four-wheel drive was tested in the hills north of the Santa Clarita Valley, which is better known for its Magic Mountains than real mountains unless you live there. Then you discover the little back roads that lead to some challenging curves and dirt trails. The only hindrance was that the view from the driver's seat over the substantial hood was not as view-a-rific as one would like, but as we've mentioned, the truck climbed over the beige eruptions in the stratum while fording streams with equanimity, even joviality. The power was ample enough to push on rocks and inclines, and the suspension travel kept it well above ground level when going over uneven surfaces.
Somehow, this truck imparted some pretty valuable lessons. One editor decided, after figuring that the truck had about a shoehorn's chance in hell to fit into her parent's garage, that she needed to move out. Another one gained a newfound sense of what it was like to be a big, strong, gnarly man, and she kind of enjoyed it.
As for the editor with the ersatz existential crisis, he learned that life is not composed of always knowing what's around the next corner, of meticulous planning and assured execution. Nor is it a sense of invulnerability, of taking precarious risks of your supposed immortality.
Perhaps it is a balance of the two. Quite appropriate, since the Dakota Quad Cab's raison d'etre is to balance truck utility with car comfort and style. What a bargain - for the price of the vehicle you not only get a stylish, functional truck but also a metaphor for life!
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