GMC Canyon SLE Crew Cab 4WD Z71 - But now, with the appearance of the GMC Canyon and its nearly identical sister, the Chevrolet Colorado, it's okay to forget about the rough-as-a-cob S-10. The Canyon/Colorado duo is styled with stubby overhangs, squared-off wheel openings, and the squinty four-eyed visage of the full-size Silverado and Sierra. They look a little like dazed rodeo bulls, brawny but lovable.
The platform here is genuinely new, shared with no other light truck or SUV in GM's vast repertoire. Three cab sizes are available—regular, extended, and crew—on two wheelbases. Two bed lengths are offered—73.0 inches and 61.0 inches.
Drive the Canyon and what you notice first is that it's far, far more solid than any S-10 ever built or imagined. Torsional rigidity is way up, with minimal bed shimmy, no shivers through the dash, no subassemblies in motion. The new body mounts are adept at blocking harshness transmitted through the frame. Impacts, right up to genuine slobber knockers, are distant, nontroubling events. Accidentally drop two wheels off the right side of the road? The Canyon doesn't care. Go ahead and drive all day like that.
The new in-line five idles at about 600 rpm, where it evinces a peculiar staccato backbeat that is felt more than heard. Crack the throttle a titch, up to 900 or so rpm, and the idle suddenly goes as smooth as Vaseline. At wide-open whack, the engine emits a curious lowing, like a cow with acid reflux. It needs to be about an octave lower and divorced from all 4-H club proceedings before 20-something males, rabid subscribers to the compact-truck class, will find it agreeably macho. This engine, with its twin balance shafts, is otherwise devoid of the mechanical clatter and thrash that afflicted all previous S-10 and Sonoma powerplants. It is subdued and carlike all the way to its 6100-rpm redline.
Sixty mph materializes in 8.9 seconds, way better than the 9.5 seconds of a Nissan Frontier SC, one of the "quick" compact trucks. Funny thing is, the Canyon never feels fast. Instead, the in-line five often acts overwhelmed by this pickup's 4254 pounds—only 40 pounds lighter than the mid-size Dodge Dakota Quad Cab Sport with a 235-horse iron-block V-8. Even minor jabs at the Canyon's throttle induce transmission kickdowns, over and over, with the result that revs seem too often intruding in the 3500-and-above range.
Fortunately, the Canyon's ride-and-handling trade-off is nearly perfect, a major achievement for a tall-stance off-road suspension. The gas-charged monotube shocks have been tuned to their most benign settings, and the 15-inch Generals feature forgiving sidewalls. On the most rutted, ravaged roads, the ride is more luxury SUV than compact truck. Even with all that compliance, there's little of the squirm you feel in, say, a TrailBlazer, and body motions are satisfactorily controlled.
GM's revised steering is also a major improvement, although the effort could have been a hair lighter. Freeway tracking is excellent, with a strong sense of straight-ahead. There's minimal kickback, even on potholed roads, and the vibration that does wend its way up the column is, by truck standards, forgivable. You can usually place the Canyon within a few inches of where you want it, a trait that contributes hugely to driving satisfaction.
Our test truck came with bench seats encased in a handsome gray twill that looked classy and felt durable. The front seat remains comfortable for all-day grinds, although the seatback is slightly overpadded. The rear bench is tolerable for two adults for one-hour trips, but the cushion is low, hoisting your knees unnaturally. The steering wheel is adjustable for rake through a huge arc.
A new Tacoma, Frontier, and Dakota are all on the horizon. Right now, though, the Canyon stands as the gotta-have in the compact-truck class—tops in ride, fit and finish, solidity, impact isolation, and general driving refinement. We'd have preferred more oomph—acceleration a little closer, say, to the 7.7-second 0-to-60 performance of the current manual-trans V-8 Dakota. And we'd have preferred fuel economy better than an observed 14 mpg, but that's what you get with a 2.1-ton pickup with the frontal area of a Subic Bay ferry.
This truck is built in GM's Shreveport plant, which means you can get a Colorado in Louisiana. Naturally, you can drive a Canyon into Colorado or even into a Colorado canyon, but you wouldn't want to drive a Colorado into a Canyon.
The platform here is genuinely new, shared with no other light truck or SUV in GM's vast repertoire. Three cab sizes are available—regular, extended, and crew—on two wheelbases. Two bed lengths are offered—73.0 inches and 61.0 inches.
Drive the Canyon and what you notice first is that it's far, far more solid than any S-10 ever built or imagined. Torsional rigidity is way up, with minimal bed shimmy, no shivers through the dash, no subassemblies in motion. The new body mounts are adept at blocking harshness transmitted through the frame. Impacts, right up to genuine slobber knockers, are distant, nontroubling events. Accidentally drop two wheels off the right side of the road? The Canyon doesn't care. Go ahead and drive all day like that.
The new in-line five idles at about 600 rpm, where it evinces a peculiar staccato backbeat that is felt more than heard. Crack the throttle a titch, up to 900 or so rpm, and the idle suddenly goes as smooth as Vaseline. At wide-open whack, the engine emits a curious lowing, like a cow with acid reflux. It needs to be about an octave lower and divorced from all 4-H club proceedings before 20-something males, rabid subscribers to the compact-truck class, will find it agreeably macho. This engine, with its twin balance shafts, is otherwise devoid of the mechanical clatter and thrash that afflicted all previous S-10 and Sonoma powerplants. It is subdued and carlike all the way to its 6100-rpm redline.
Sixty mph materializes in 8.9 seconds, way better than the 9.5 seconds of a Nissan Frontier SC, one of the "quick" compact trucks. Funny thing is, the Canyon never feels fast. Instead, the in-line five often acts overwhelmed by this pickup's 4254 pounds—only 40 pounds lighter than the mid-size Dodge Dakota Quad Cab Sport with a 235-horse iron-block V-8. Even minor jabs at the Canyon's throttle induce transmission kickdowns, over and over, with the result that revs seem too often intruding in the 3500-and-above range.
Fortunately, the Canyon's ride-and-handling trade-off is nearly perfect, a major achievement for a tall-stance off-road suspension. The gas-charged monotube shocks have been tuned to their most benign settings, and the 15-inch Generals feature forgiving sidewalls. On the most rutted, ravaged roads, the ride is more luxury SUV than compact truck. Even with all that compliance, there's little of the squirm you feel in, say, a TrailBlazer, and body motions are satisfactorily controlled.
GM's revised steering is also a major improvement, although the effort could have been a hair lighter. Freeway tracking is excellent, with a strong sense of straight-ahead. There's minimal kickback, even on potholed roads, and the vibration that does wend its way up the column is, by truck standards, forgivable. You can usually place the Canyon within a few inches of where you want it, a trait that contributes hugely to driving satisfaction.
Our test truck came with bench seats encased in a handsome gray twill that looked classy and felt durable. The front seat remains comfortable for all-day grinds, although the seatback is slightly overpadded. The rear bench is tolerable for two adults for one-hour trips, but the cushion is low, hoisting your knees unnaturally. The steering wheel is adjustable for rake through a huge arc.
A new Tacoma, Frontier, and Dakota are all on the horizon. Right now, though, the Canyon stands as the gotta-have in the compact-truck class—tops in ride, fit and finish, solidity, impact isolation, and general driving refinement. We'd have preferred more oomph—acceleration a little closer, say, to the 7.7-second 0-to-60 performance of the current manual-trans V-8 Dakota. And we'd have preferred fuel economy better than an observed 14 mpg, but that's what you get with a 2.1-ton pickup with the frontal area of a Subic Bay ferry.
This truck is built in GM's Shreveport plant, which means you can get a Colorado in Louisiana. Naturally, you can drive a Canyon into Colorado or even into a Colorado canyon, but you wouldn't want to drive a Colorado into a Canyon.
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