We thought we were Navy SEALs. The Florida rain beat down like a sonofabitch, and we were perched in the Hummer's truck bed ready to leap out and help citizens in need.
Stranded vehicles were everywhere in Palm Beach, Florida. A brand-new Mercedes CL500 coupe bobbed in thigh-high water. We pushed its grateful lady owner to safety. A man asked us to help move his rental car to higher ground. When he opened the door, we could see his personal belongings floating in 6 inches of water inside the car. Another man in a late-model Lexus LS put his hands together in a prayer of thanks when we pushed him from the river of water that had stalled his engine.
As high as the rain water rose, however, it never came close to the Hummer's door sills, which sit nearly 2 feet off the ground. And, because the powertrain's ventilation system is sealed, the Hummer can ford up to 30 inches of water before the engine is in danger of stalling. (A snorkel-equipped Hummer can ford up to 5 feet of water.)
It was a freak rainstorm and flash flood, and when it was over, the moneyed citizens of Palm Beach were left with only one question: Who were those do-gooders in the massive yellow Hummer?
If you'll excuse the pun, the four-door open top Hummer made quite a splash wherever we took it. AM General lent it to us for five days while we traveled around southern Florida. While we were cruising the Art Deco South Beach strip in Miami, diners got up from their sidewalk tables to take photos of the bright yellow beast. One man trained his video camera on us for a full block. That kind of attention is significant when you consider that South Beach (or, SoBe, as the trendies say) is chock-a-block with Fabio and Cindy Margolis look-alikes.
While we were parked, a pumped-up, square-jawed Italian man with flowing locks rushed up the truck, lost all his jaded SoBe cool and cried "Bello, bello — it is magnifico!" He rubbed his hands together and gawked while we took the folded soft top from the truck bed and pulled it over the roll bars. (It took one person 11 minutes, 35 seconds to remove the top for the first and 13 minutes, 5 seconds to replace it. The manual recommends two people for the job and uses about five pages to describe the procedure. It's really not that complex, but it is awkward.) As we finished, our new Italian friend asked "Quanto? How much does this Hummer cost?"
"$100,000," we answered. His face dropped like a towel on the beach.
Even the alligators looked up for longer than usual when we rumbled along Alligator Alley on our way to Everglades City. The Alley, or Highway 75, is one of the straightest stretches of road in Florida, running from Miami on the Atlantic coast to Naples on the Gulf of Mexico. The monotonous miles of saw grass and swamp lilies gave us a chance to really examine our ride.
The eight-cylinder, 6.5-liter turbo diesel engine performed a lot better on the highway than we expected. Though its rather loud pocpocpocpoc engine note made the side and rearview mirrors vibrate noticeably, the Hummer was actually quite comfortable at 70 and even 80 mph. Concerned about the truck's prolific thirst for fuel, we were content to cruise at just over 60 mph. It cost about $60 to fill the Hummer's main (25-gallon) and auxiliary (17-gallon) tanks, which took us about 550 miles. Fuel from the twin tanks is accessed via an interior toggle switch, which made us feel like elite commandos when we flipped it back and forth. We almost began to believe our road trip was an important mission.
This same military/industrial feel, however, was also a point of contention for us. Even though the Hummer costs about the same as a Mercedes-Benz S-Class, it possesses the interior charm of a John Deere lawn tractor. While we enjoyed the quirky novelty of the industrial switchgear and the exposed bolts and the slightly askew installation of gauges, vents and other fixtures, we couldn't reconcile the build quality with the Hummer's luxury-auto price. How can you charge a hundred-grand for a vehicle that looks slapped together by high school kids with army surplus parts in a machine shop? The control stalk was so busy (controlling turn signals, cruise control and the horn) we nearly always sounded the horn while setting cruise. The overhead dome light went on the fritz so we had to jury-rig it to turn it off. And we noticed paint overspray on the interior.
With the soft top down, though, the Hummer was a blast, providing a clear, 360- degree view of our surroundings. The ability to see your environment so clearly is likely a military advantage to avoid being ambushed, but it's just as desirable when passing through picturesque country or cruising the beach.
The four-wheel independent suspension was surprisingly supple and responsive. The Hummer uses long-travel double-A-arm coil spring suspension with large hydraulic shocks inside the coils on all four wheels. Combined with the elephantine 37-inch highway touring tires on 17-inch alloy wheels, the ride was consistently pliant, whether we were on hardtop or broken track, without any of the shaking and jarring you might expect from what's essentially a converted military vehicle.
We were also struck by the Hummer's maneuverability. We were expecting it to handle like a tank, but were surprised by its precise steering, tight turning circle and the ease with which we were able to park it. The use of a large stabilizer bar in front and power-assisted, variable-ratio steering may allow you to maneuver the Hummer like a minivan, but don't expect it to be able to go anywhere the family's Windstar goes. We had to fold in the exterior mirrors just to get through a freeway toll booth. We couldn't use the drive-thrus at banks or burger joints because the Hummer was too wide. And, during the torrential Palm Beach rain, we couldn't park under the hotel's portico because it didn't fit. So we had to leave it on the street and get soaked running for shelter.
Despite its immense width (86.5 inches, which is a full half-foot wider than the monstrous Ford Excursion) there isn't a lot of passenger room in the Hummer. There are two bucket seats in front and two in back. Other than the driver's seat, which is a little roomier, each seating position is cramped like the tight cockpit of a Formula 1 race car. The lack of space is due to the fact that the Hummer's entire drivetrain is drawn up into the cabin. This centrally-located mass of moving parts is covered by hard plastic, so it's like a gigantic center console that stretches the entire length of the cabin. This makes the Hummer perfect for fathers worried about their daughters making out in the back of the family car. The most anybody could do in the Hummer, even a contortionist, is hold hands. And, even then, at a stretch.
Of course, another benefit of housing the engine and driveline in the cabin is incredible ground clearance. The lowest part of the Hummer sits 16 inches off the ground, with no low-hanging transfer case, differential or other parts. This is what makes the Hummer such an invaluable military vehicle — with its fording capabilities, 430 foot-pounds of torque, low gear ratios and ground clearance, it can go virtually anywhere. Like most SUVs, though, the majority of civilian Hummers will probably never be taken off road, especially considering their cost.
So, what's the point of a $100,000 vehicle that seats four adults in cramped accommodations, is poorly finished, quaffs diesel, doesn't fit suburbia's drive-thrus and parking spaces and is about as homey as a John Deere tractor?
Well, we were the only ones who could travel freely when Palm Beach was flooded. We were actually able to attract attention in glitzy South Beach and nearly everyone who sees the Hummer stares at you. Also, the Hummer is a lot of fun. Its military heritage lends an aspect of espionage and adventure to even the most mundane trips. Its ride height and engine power are likewise invigorating. And, with the roof down, it's like piloting a portable veranda.
So, if you have lots of money and you want a unique, enjoyable ride, we recommend the Hummer for your adventures. If you live in a disaster-prone area, though, just be sure to pack your K-rations and a survival knife.
Stranded vehicles were everywhere in Palm Beach, Florida. A brand-new Mercedes CL500 coupe bobbed in thigh-high water. We pushed its grateful lady owner to safety. A man asked us to help move his rental car to higher ground. When he opened the door, we could see his personal belongings floating in 6 inches of water inside the car. Another man in a late-model Lexus LS put his hands together in a prayer of thanks when we pushed him from the river of water that had stalled his engine.
As high as the rain water rose, however, it never came close to the Hummer's door sills, which sit nearly 2 feet off the ground. And, because the powertrain's ventilation system is sealed, the Hummer can ford up to 30 inches of water before the engine is in danger of stalling. (A snorkel-equipped Hummer can ford up to 5 feet of water.)
It was a freak rainstorm and flash flood, and when it was over, the moneyed citizens of Palm Beach were left with only one question: Who were those do-gooders in the massive yellow Hummer?
If you'll excuse the pun, the four-door open top Hummer made quite a splash wherever we took it. AM General lent it to us for five days while we traveled around southern Florida. While we were cruising the Art Deco South Beach strip in Miami, diners got up from their sidewalk tables to take photos of the bright yellow beast. One man trained his video camera on us for a full block. That kind of attention is significant when you consider that South Beach (or, SoBe, as the trendies say) is chock-a-block with Fabio and Cindy Margolis look-alikes.
While we were parked, a pumped-up, square-jawed Italian man with flowing locks rushed up the truck, lost all his jaded SoBe cool and cried "Bello, bello — it is magnifico!" He rubbed his hands together and gawked while we took the folded soft top from the truck bed and pulled it over the roll bars. (It took one person 11 minutes, 35 seconds to remove the top for the first and 13 minutes, 5 seconds to replace it. The manual recommends two people for the job and uses about five pages to describe the procedure. It's really not that complex, but it is awkward.) As we finished, our new Italian friend asked "Quanto? How much does this Hummer cost?"
"$100,000," we answered. His face dropped like a towel on the beach.
Even the alligators looked up for longer than usual when we rumbled along Alligator Alley on our way to Everglades City. The Alley, or Highway 75, is one of the straightest stretches of road in Florida, running from Miami on the Atlantic coast to Naples on the Gulf of Mexico. The monotonous miles of saw grass and swamp lilies gave us a chance to really examine our ride.
The eight-cylinder, 6.5-liter turbo diesel engine performed a lot better on the highway than we expected. Though its rather loud pocpocpocpoc engine note made the side and rearview mirrors vibrate noticeably, the Hummer was actually quite comfortable at 70 and even 80 mph. Concerned about the truck's prolific thirst for fuel, we were content to cruise at just over 60 mph. It cost about $60 to fill the Hummer's main (25-gallon) and auxiliary (17-gallon) tanks, which took us about 550 miles. Fuel from the twin tanks is accessed via an interior toggle switch, which made us feel like elite commandos when we flipped it back and forth. We almost began to believe our road trip was an important mission.
This same military/industrial feel, however, was also a point of contention for us. Even though the Hummer costs about the same as a Mercedes-Benz S-Class, it possesses the interior charm of a John Deere lawn tractor. While we enjoyed the quirky novelty of the industrial switchgear and the exposed bolts and the slightly askew installation of gauges, vents and other fixtures, we couldn't reconcile the build quality with the Hummer's luxury-auto price. How can you charge a hundred-grand for a vehicle that looks slapped together by high school kids with army surplus parts in a machine shop? The control stalk was so busy (controlling turn signals, cruise control and the horn) we nearly always sounded the horn while setting cruise. The overhead dome light went on the fritz so we had to jury-rig it to turn it off. And we noticed paint overspray on the interior.
With the soft top down, though, the Hummer was a blast, providing a clear, 360- degree view of our surroundings. The ability to see your environment so clearly is likely a military advantage to avoid being ambushed, but it's just as desirable when passing through picturesque country or cruising the beach.
The four-wheel independent suspension was surprisingly supple and responsive. The Hummer uses long-travel double-A-arm coil spring suspension with large hydraulic shocks inside the coils on all four wheels. Combined with the elephantine 37-inch highway touring tires on 17-inch alloy wheels, the ride was consistently pliant, whether we were on hardtop or broken track, without any of the shaking and jarring you might expect from what's essentially a converted military vehicle.
We were also struck by the Hummer's maneuverability. We were expecting it to handle like a tank, but were surprised by its precise steering, tight turning circle and the ease with which we were able to park it. The use of a large stabilizer bar in front and power-assisted, variable-ratio steering may allow you to maneuver the Hummer like a minivan, but don't expect it to be able to go anywhere the family's Windstar goes. We had to fold in the exterior mirrors just to get through a freeway toll booth. We couldn't use the drive-thrus at banks or burger joints because the Hummer was too wide. And, during the torrential Palm Beach rain, we couldn't park under the hotel's portico because it didn't fit. So we had to leave it on the street and get soaked running for shelter.
Despite its immense width (86.5 inches, which is a full half-foot wider than the monstrous Ford Excursion) there isn't a lot of passenger room in the Hummer. There are two bucket seats in front and two in back. Other than the driver's seat, which is a little roomier, each seating position is cramped like the tight cockpit of a Formula 1 race car. The lack of space is due to the fact that the Hummer's entire drivetrain is drawn up into the cabin. This centrally-located mass of moving parts is covered by hard plastic, so it's like a gigantic center console that stretches the entire length of the cabin. This makes the Hummer perfect for fathers worried about their daughters making out in the back of the family car. The most anybody could do in the Hummer, even a contortionist, is hold hands. And, even then, at a stretch.
Of course, another benefit of housing the engine and driveline in the cabin is incredible ground clearance. The lowest part of the Hummer sits 16 inches off the ground, with no low-hanging transfer case, differential or other parts. This is what makes the Hummer such an invaluable military vehicle — with its fording capabilities, 430 foot-pounds of torque, low gear ratios and ground clearance, it can go virtually anywhere. Like most SUVs, though, the majority of civilian Hummers will probably never be taken off road, especially considering their cost.
So, what's the point of a $100,000 vehicle that seats four adults in cramped accommodations, is poorly finished, quaffs diesel, doesn't fit suburbia's drive-thrus and parking spaces and is about as homey as a John Deere tractor?
Well, we were the only ones who could travel freely when Palm Beach was flooded. We were actually able to attract attention in glitzy South Beach and nearly everyone who sees the Hummer stares at you. Also, the Hummer is a lot of fun. Its military heritage lends an aspect of espionage and adventure to even the most mundane trips. Its ride height and engine power are likewise invigorating. And, with the roof down, it's like piloting a portable veranda.
So, if you have lots of money and you want a unique, enjoyable ride, we recommend the Hummer for your adventures. If you live in a disaster-prone area, though, just be sure to pack your K-rations and a survival knife.
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