A key task for trucks used in a personal role is driving without the trailer. No one's going to commute in one, but the truck needs to move people and belongings once the trailer's unhitched. Dualie drivers know what a hassle it is to park their trucks among regular cars and might figure that the Kodiak would be even worse, but that's not the case.The Kodiak navigates cramped restaurant parking lots more easily than a dualie, thanks to a tight 46.7-foot (38.4 feet for the regular cab) turning circle. That compares with a whopping 53.5-foot circle for the Silverado dualie. The tight turning circle means that slotting the Kodiak between a Civic and a Taurus is no problem despite the Kodiak's tremendous 95-inch width. That's more than 15 inches wider than a regular dualie.
The ease of driving the truck on errands, to dinner and the hotel from the track, show grounds or other destinations, makes the Kodiak much more user friendly than its imposing size might suggest. But that size, and the capability that comes with it, makes the Kodiak the ideal vehicle for anybody who tows large, heavy trailers. Leave pickups for the light work. For real work, the Kodiak's safety, stability, and long-haul amenities make it the truck to have.
Trackside Stories
The Pratt & Miller team is like a small town. After all, the team not only fills a whole trailer with spare parts and pit equipment, but the trailer is where some of them live as well. And during the down time, we hear stories of past victories and defeats. Among the best is about an emergency fix during the 2002 24 Hours of Le Mans.Only four hours into the race, one of the team's cars pitted for tires and fuel, explains Ross Jeffrey, race technician for the #4 Corvette. During the tire change, the tire man dropped the large center-lock nut that holds the wheel in place. He kicked it out of the way and installed the tire with the extra nut he keeps on hand.
Unfortunately, when the nut rolled into the garage, someone thought it was one the tire man needed and kicked it back out to him. The nut rolled under the front of the car and came to rest beneath the ground-skimming dry-sump oil pan. "When we dropped the car off the jacks, I heard a 'clang!' and knew it didn't sound right," Jeffrey recalls. He motioned the crew to lift the car back up and poked his head underneath to investigate the source of the unusual noise. He was greeted by the sight of the nut embedded in the oil pan, precious oil leaking out.
The crew rolled the car back into the garage, lifted it up, and got underneath. They soaked a paper shop towel with two-part five-minute epoxy and slapped it in place, holding it until it cured. The crew sent the car out, fingers crossed, and it ran the remaining 20 grueling hours with no problems. The repair was so secure that mechanics back in the shop had a hard time chiseling the paper towel off the pan when they tore the engine apart for its rebuild.