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2008 GMC Yukon Hybrid Road Test - Eco-Friend or Foe?

A 350-Mile Journey of Self-Discovery in a Yukon Hybrid with a Jayco Camping Trailer

Mitchell Sam Rossi
Jun 1, 2009
Photographers: Mitchell Sam Rossi
Photo 2/10   |   Hitched to the bumper of the new Yukon Hybrid was Jayco's new Feather Ex-Port, a compact camping trailer with expandable sleeping space.
My 7-year-old daughter's eyes widened with excitement as we crossed the parking lot and approached the colossal statues of Paul Bunyan and his massive companion, Babe the Blue Ox. A small, nervous hand slipped into mine. From somewhere, but certainly not from Paul's lips, an amplified voice crackled forth asking her name. Her grip tightened. "Kimi," she answered. The legendary lumberjack welcomed her. "Well, hey there Kimi. Have you been on the trail yet?"
We had finally arrived at the Trees of Mystery, the famed tourist attraction nestled in Northern California's magnificent coastal redwood forests. Our trek to these ancient groves was Kimi's first camping trip. For me, it was an overdue return.
Dad's Old Caprice
Forty years ago I stood in this same spot holding my father's hand and probably looking just as awe-struck. In truth, these schmaltzy statues look to be constructed of cardboard and papier-mâché, but to a 7-year-old, they are things of wonder.
Four decades isn't much time compared to the 2,000-year lifespan of a redwood tree. Yet, when I last traveled this far north on the Redwood Highway, I was in the backseat of my dad's cream-colored Chevrolet Caprice wagon, and if memory serves, the camping trailer we were towing was a borrowed Nimrod all-canvas popup. No amenities there. It was little more than an Army tent on skinny wheels.
Kimi and I made our pilgrimage in an GMC's new Yukon 2-Mod gas/electric hybrid, Detroit's response to rocketing fuel prices. Hitched to the bumper was Jayco's new Feather Ex-Port, a compact camping trailer with expandable sleeping space. The technological differences between my father's rig and mine seemed light-years apart instead of a mere generation.
Visiting these redwoods in a hybrid vehicle and a lightweight trailer was deliberate. I wanted my daughter to experience the same carefree joys of camping that I did back then, but it is a different world, a different time. In 1968 my Dad worried little about fuel mileage or the environment. Gasoline averaged 35 cents a gallon, and global warming was a theory. Today, hardly a sentence rattles out of Kimi's head that doesn't touch upon some aspect of the environment, be it recycling, conservation, or my wasteful use of so many Starbucks coffee cups.
A New Age
My daughter's generation is primed to save the planet, but what they know of it is limited to colorful school books and National Geographic broadcast in high-definition. She has never heard raccoons breaking into the ice chest outside the trailer, and she thought I was joking when I explained that campers have to hide their toothpaste in bear boxes. It's that disconnect I was hoping to change in a few days.

Before she could raise concerns about the two of us riding in a fullsize, eight-passenger SUV, I pointed out that it was the hybrid version of GMC's successful Yukon. Powered by a Vortec 6.0L V-8, the Yukon was capable of producing 332 hp and 367 lb-ft of tow-essential torque, yet the two-wheel-drive model had an EPA rating of 21 mpg city, 22 highway. The four-wheel-drive model managed 20/20 mpg. What better way to venture into the wilderness than in a vehicle designed to sip fossil fuel?
The fuel-efficiency improvement over a standard two-wheel-drive Yukon (14 mpg city, 19 highway) was attained by various methods. Under optimum conditions, when the vehicle cruises on level roads at a continuous speed, the fuel system switched from feeding all eight cylinders to serving only four.
Going Hybrid
The advanced electric hybrid system came into play when the acceleration was light and speeds were moderate. That was when the Yukon was tapping into its 300V Energy Storage System to drive its two transmission-housed electric motors. The system's battery pack was located under the center seats but went unnoticed in the roomy interior. The "Auto Stop" feature was a true fuel-saver, as the system shut down the engine when the truck was at idle. Only a touch of the accelerator was required to reengage the V-8.
To discourage the possibility of boredom in the backseat, I decided to slice our 350-mile trip into smaller stretches. Along California State Highway 101, I knew there would be places to investigate, things to break up the monotony once we counted every out-of-state license plate north of the 40th Parallel.
Photo 3/10   |   One drawback to the forward sleeping shelf of the trailer was that when lowered it blocked access to the rear cargo area of the Yukon. You need to either remove your gear first or unhitch and move the tow vehicle prior to opening the bedroom.
Living With Jayco
Before we set out, I filled the Ex-Port's three-way refrigerator with hot dogs, a bottle of Longboard Merlot (just in case), a gallon of milk, and a six-pack of chocolate pudding. Into the camper's drawers and ample storage bins went the usual gear: folding chairs, sleeping bags, pots and pans, a large bag of marshmallows, beef.
For better or worse, I outlawed Kimi's portable DVD player on this trip. Luckily, the Yukon wasn't equipped with its optional $1,295 second-seat DVD entertainment center. That would have been impossible to renounce. I wanted Kimi to look out the window, see the landscape, discover moments on her first trip she might cherish one day as I do mine. (In reality, the portable DVD player was squirreled away in the trailer-just in case.)
"Why do you get a TV?" She eyed the large screen of the Yukon's in-dash touch-screen navigation and entertainment system. Filling the center of the dashboard, the system was within easy reach of the driver and passenger but frustratingly far from the second row.
Photo 4/10   |   Like the Yukon, the Feather Ex-Port was a hybrid of sorts. While it was a hard-sided camper, the sleeping quarters folded out like a popup tent trailer.
A combination of real and animated buttons not only controlled the XM satellite radio and audio system, but the GPS navigation system as well. In addition, the screen became the monitor for the rearview camera when the transmission was shifted into reverse. With a little practice, the camera was all I needed to align the Yukon's tow ball with the trailer's coupler. I remembered that hooking the Nimrod to the Caprice always included high-pitched discussions between Mom and Dad on exactly which direction was "more that way."
I explained to Kimi that the monitor didn't play movies. I pushed a few buttons to show the animated display of the truck's hybrid system. This earned me a small furrowed brow. In the end, we compromised. I gave up control of the nav system, including input of the voice-marked points of interest. A tap to the screen activated a female voice that asked us to speak our location, which it recorded for later retrieval.
Across the Golden Gate
Finally, Kimi and I were on the road and heading out of town. By mid-morning traffic had diminished and the sun had burned off the San Francisco marine layer. With a 6,200-pound towing capacity, the Yukon and Ex-Port breezed across the Golden Gate Bridge. Beneath the tachometer, the on-board computer's LED readout suggested our instantaneous fuel consumption was 14 mpg. Not bad for an SUV weighing 5,600 pounds and saddled with a camping trailer.
For anyone who hasn't driven north across the Golden Gate Bridge, the initial 2-mile climb beyond the bridge is steep and curvy. First day, first hour, we tested the Yukon. While the Feather Ex-Port has a dry weight of only 2,920 pounds, it is a full-bodied trailer and didn't go unnoticed by the V-8. When our high-tech truck mounted the grade, everything slowed considerably. Fuel economy dropped to 7 mpg.
I downshifted into manual Fourth gear, and the mileage increased. A toggle switch on the shift arm dropped the gearbox into Third. The mileage didn't change. Going back up to Fourth eased the engine's strain. As the highway rolled over the hill and began its decent, I shifted back to Drive. The gas mileage jumped to 20 mpg. When the highway flattened, the on-board computer reported a steady 17 mpg.
While this display was convenient, I kept detailed notes on gasoline pumped and miles traveled. Our fuel consumption varied dramatically with road and weather conditions. Besides, pen-and-paper calculations don't malfunction.
Soon the green vineyard-branded hills of Sonoma gave way to Mendocino's golden carpet of rolling grasslands. In back, Kimi was reading one of her books. It wasn't Catcher in the Rye or Cannery Row, but she's was content. So was I.
Photo 5/10   |   Powered by a Vortec 6.0L V-8, the Yukon was capable of producing 332 hp and 367 lb-ft of tow-essential torque, yet the two-wheel-drive model had an EPA rating of 21 mpg city, 22 highway.
Butterscotch Milkshakes
By Laytonville, my stomach was grumbling and so was my passenger. I considered pulling into the next rest stop to have lunch. No reason to eat fast food when there was a three-burner stove, an oven, and a microwave tagging along, although the microwave requires a 120V hook-up.
A curious sign on the left had me brake hard and cut across the road. The spontaneous maneuver elicited a "whoa!" from the rear seat. I figured the Yukon's regenerative braking system, designed to recapture some of the vehicle's kinetic energy while under braking, just received a good jolt.
The Chief Drive-in & Laundromat-now that was a combination I couldn't pass up. We didn't need a washing machine, but we were certainly ready to eat. Crossing the gravel parking lot, Kimi raised a good question. What's a drive-in? She's all too familiar with the fast-food drive-thru, but this place looked like a regular restaurant.
I told her about roller-skating waitresses and meals that hung from car doors. I also pointed out that this was before my time. I'm not sure if her skepticism stemmed from my explanation or from the idea that anything could predate her dad. I ordered butterscotch milkshakes with our burgers. We continued along Highway 101 as it weaved through thickening forests and little cluttered towns that once depended on chopping them down.
Photo 6/10   |   Visiting these redwoods in a hybrid vehicle and a lightweight trailer was deliberate. I wanted my daughter to experience the same carefree joys of camping that I did back then, but it is a different world, a different time.
Humboldt Redwoods
When we arrived at Humboldt Redwoods State Park and Hidden Springs campground, I was thankful the sun was still high. For the past week I've worried about parking the Ex-Port on my own in a tight campsite. It's been a woodpecker ceaselessly tapping at my temples. Dad could see over the low-riding Nimrod, and of course Mom was there with directions. "Left. Left! No, the other way."
Luck fell my way. The patch of asphalt that created our parking site was angled so I needed only to pull a few feet forward, pitch the Yukon's wheel, and roll back. I still jumped out of the driver seat a half-dozen times to be sure I wasn't backing over a redwood sapling or something worse.
Humboldt Redwoods State Park covers nearly 53,000 acres, of which over 30 percent is untouched old-growth forest. Yet in this incredibly beautiful campground, the visiting population seemed low for this time of year. The park ranger, a young woman with round cheeks and a blonde ponytail protruding from her cap, confirmed that attendance was unusually light.
A Chance to Explore
Once the trailer was positioned and the Yukon parked, Kimi stepped from the truck. She eyed the surroundings tentatively. Our bit of wilderness was thick with greenery: oak, low manzanita, broad branching buckeye, and of course the steadfast sentinels of Coastal Redwoods.
I told her not to venture far, but she hardly left my side as I set up the trailer. When I was a kid, I was so eager to explore our campground that my mother threatened to lash a rope between me and the Caprice's bumper. I couldn't wait to explore, to chase any creatures living nearby, and to see if other kids were camping with their families and to find out where they were from.
Kimi remained close so I put her to work. Like the Yukon, the Feather Ex-Port was a hybrid of sorts. While it was a hard-sided camper, the sleeping quarters folded out like a popup tent trailer. In towing mode, it measured a little more than 17 feet long, but once parked the forward and aft folding beds expanded its length to 21 feet 5 inches.
The beds opened easily from the outside. Enclosed in canvas, they had large netted windows offering superior ventilation. That said, the two queen-sized sleeping areas tended to be cool on chilly nights. Luckily, the camper's gas heater warmed the interior quickly.
One drawback to the forward sleeping shelf was that when lowered it blocked access to the rear cargo area of the Yukon. You need to either remove your gear first or unhitch and move the tow vehicle prior to opening the bedroom.
By dinner, Kimi had yet to investigate our surroundings. She sat on one of the folding chairs as I boiled water for spaghetti and heated up meat sauce. Spaghetti was an easy camping food. Kids love it, it's hard to ruin, and it's easy to store in zip-lock bags.
When Nature Calls
Before I finished with the dishes, Kimi was curled up on the front bed asleep. I was five minutes behind her. A few hours later, I got up. Nature was calling, and as I rolled out of bed I was thankful for the onboard toilet.
I realized that without the trailer's bathroom I would have had to bundle Kimi up and take her with me to the campground facilities, where she would have had to stand in the corner with moths flittering about her head. She wouldn't have been happy. She'd tell her mother. Her mother would not have been happy. I'd hear about it for years. I'd hear about it at my daughter's wedding. "One time my Dad took me camping..." Thank goodness for the Ex-Port's bathroom.
The Ex-Port was also equipped with a full shower, although "full" is a questionable term. While it extended the width of the bathroom, the base was split between a molded seat and a foot well. Trying to take a shower was akin to hosing oneself down while standing in a shoebox.
Our first breakfast was cold muffins, Cheerios, hot chocolate, and green tea. I had the front bed locked into place before Kimi was finished brushing her teeth. The rear bed folded away just as simply, although tucking the canvas in required a bit more effort on my part.
With our gear stowed and the trailer road-ready, we left Hidden Springs while the morning mist still held reign over the campsite. The highway, wet and black as ink, glistened under the waking sun. I set the Yukon's cruise control at 50 mph and left fuel economy to the computer.
Back on the Road
The drive was striking. The road rose and fell gently as it swept through patches of morning light and the dark canyons of redwoods. While I may have relinquished the nav computer to Kimi, I retained audio control of our journey. I located the perfect station on the Yukon's satellite radio.
My parents forced me to listen to Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra; I filled the truck with the Beach Boys and Bob Dylan. Soon we were singing along to "Sloop John B." Well, I was singing. Kimi was cringing. In Fortuna, we pulled off for gas. The Yukon gulped down 20.1 gallons, just over $90 dollars' worth. But we had traveled 263 miles. It got 13.9 mpg so far.
Photo 7/10   |   Crossing Woodley and Indian islands, we rolled into the township of Samoa and parked in front of the enormous and very red Samoa Cookhouse. It is billed as the last surviving lumber-camp cookhouse, a warehouse-sized restaurant that delivers preset, all-you-can-eat meals to shared tables.
Lumberjack's Lunch
We followed Highway 101 to a one-way street through Eureka. The path was clogged with traffic and a surprising number of campers, almost enough to dismiss my fears that family camping was on the wane. We took Highway 255 westward. It arched over the gunmetal-gray waters of Humboldt Bay.
Crossing Woodley and Indian islands, we rolled into the township of Samoa and parked in front of the enormous and very red Samoa Cookhouse. It is billed as the last surviving lumber-camp cookhouse, a warehouse-sized restaurant that delivers preset, all-you-can-eat meals to shared tables.
Inside the dining hall, Kimi and I took the end of a 30-foot table draped with a red-and-white checkered table cloth. It reminded me of Mom's picnics. We had made the lunch hour, which meant mixed green salad, vegetable soup, southern fried chicken, mash potatoes and gravy, and for dessert, a broad slice of apple pie.
After lunch we reconnected with the Redwood Highway. Kimi grabbed her book. Within minutes it fell across her lap as she closed her eyes. I settled into commanding the truck and trailer along the winding highway.
As he drove, Dad smoked his Camels and kept time with Sinatra by tapping his wedding ring against the Caprice's plastic steering wheel. Mom filled Blue Chip stamp books and studied the maps while I gazed into the passing forest hoping to see a grizzly bear or an Indian.
Now I glanced at the trees wondering if they were the ones I had seen long ago. They must have been. The road hadn't been moved, and to the best of my knowledge there was no systematic shuffle of coastal redwoods.
Wildlife Zone Ahead
Ahead, brake lights flashed and traffic slowed. A dozen cars edged the roadside. Everyone was looking in the same direction, toward a sundrenched meadow of golden coyote brush and French broom. Under the trees that separated the meadow from the roadway lingered a herd of dusty elk. Over 20 of the majestic animals fed in the dark shadows, indifferent to the snarl they were creating.
I was no better than the rest of the tourists and shouted at Kimi, "Look! Look!" Dodging oncoming vehicles, I negotiated a left turn onto a paved road that bisected the meadow. The sign read "Elk Meadows."
They had to be kidding. The place was called Elk Meadows and the animals were actually here?
Kimi's window was down. "How cool." Her face brightened with excitement.
She wanted to step out of the car and get closer like everyone else who had pulled to the roadside. I knew better. Elk are big and fast and not kind to paparazzi.
We slipped out of the Yukon but kept our distance. The elk did little more than graze cowlike and glanced occasionally at the traffic.
Old-Growth Forest
Soon it was time to go. The woodpecker had returned as I was again faced with parking the trailer in an unfamiliar campsite. Just south of Crescent City, we located the entry to Mill Creek Canyon. Just barely.
The Yukon's navigation system was of little use. The GPS depended on set roadways and permanent addresses. Del Norte Coastal Redwoods State Park's physical office was in town, which did us little good. Kimi was the first to see the road sign.
Del Norte covered 9,600 acres and was one of the first areas acquired by the state for forest preservation. Open from May through September, the camp was located in an expanse of second-growth redwoods and Douglas firs. Scattered amongst these were the remnants of the original redwood forest, enormous, bus-sized stumps cut 10-12 feet above the forest floor. The old-growth redwoods, some topping 300 feet, must have been awe-inspiring even to the most hardened lumberman.
Photo 8/10   |   The beds opened easily from the outside. Enclosed in canvas, they had large netted windows offering superior ventilation. That said, the two queen-sized sleeping areas tended to be cool on chilly nights. Luckily, the camper's gas heater warmed the interior quickly.
Curiosity in Camp
To my relief, I centered the Jayco Ex-Port on the first try. Kimi congratulated me. "You don't think I can park?" I asked.
"Not after yesterday." She pushed open the door and climbed from the Yukon without looking back.
Soon a stick appeared in her hand and she was poking about the surrounding brush. Maybe it was seeing the elk; maybe she inherited the curiosity gene after all. Either way, I was pleased. Still, I kept verbal track of her as I unfolded our beds. "Don't go too far... Don't pick anything up."
Twilight was burnishing the treetops by the time I had chili and hotdogs simmering. As I cooked, Kimi continued to explore. Suddenly she dashed into the camper and grabbed one of our water bottles, an 18-ounce stainless steel Klean Kanteen. I stopped her at the door. "What's the water for?" I got a mischievous, don't-ask-so-I-won't-have-to-lie grin.
"I need the bottle," she said.
"For?"

"The lizard." She saw my parental frown, but inside, I beamed. If Dad were alive, he'd be beaming too.
Photo 9/10   |   We finally arrived at the Trees of Mystery, the famed tourist attraction nestled in Northern California's magnificent coastal redwood forests. Our trek to these ancient groves was Kimi's first camping trip. For me, it was an overdue return.
Trees of Mystery
The next day we were at the Trees of Mystery. It smacked of tacky tourism, but only to cynical adults. My daughter was ecstatic. "Well, hey there Kimi. Have you been on the trail yet?" the mighty lumberjack asked.
We took Paul Bunyan's suggestion, paid our entry fee (Adults, $14; kids aged 4-11, $7) and climbed the well-laid trail that weaved through the marvelous grove of iconic trees.
Placards and self-contained recordings were scattered along the shadowy path, helping us recognize the natural mysteries of this forest: the zigzag growth of the Lightning Tree; the Cathedral Trees, which are a semicircle of nine trees that grew from a fallen matron; the Elephant Tree, which no matter how many times Kimi and I circled never gave the appearance of a pachyderm.
At the top of the trail we found the Sky Trail, a Plexiglas-enclosed gondola that took us for a seven-minute ride through the redwood canopy, a flight normally reserved for osprey and owls. At the summit, an observation deck offered a view of a forest landscape unblemished by chainsaws and axes.
A Slippery Slope
On the return trip, you could opt for the gondola or, as Kimi and I did, hike down the Wilderness Trail. I suspected the trail was a tad precarious when the gondola operator insisted we each take one of the supplied walking sticks. Kimi's choice was whittled smooth and laser-straight. My stick looked to have been cut from the Lightning Tree, zigzagged and knobby.
As we filled our steel canteens with water, the operator called to us again. "Use the descent ropes when you see them," he warned. Descent ropes? My wife was not going to be happy when she heard this one. The first 100 yards of the trail was a simple walking path. Then it dropped steeply.
The challenge of the trail gave me the opportunity to show her what Dad showed me. "Watch for loose gravel... Careful of the tree roots... Don't hold the stick in front of you, but to the side." And while every slip of her boot heightened my blood pressure, she enjoyed each step.
Along the route, we took a rest on a downed log. She leaned against me and poked the ground with her walking stick. A lizard darted out. She gave chase. This was the experience I had hoped for. Maybe she wouldn't remember it, but I would.
Tall Tales
The trail ended at the lower gondola station and merged into the Trail of Tall Tales. This last section was devoted to Paul Bunyan's fable, which was told in chainsaw-carved sculptures scattered along the path.
It was clear from these massive works that chainsaws were designed for chopping down trees, not for creating art. While their scale was impressive, if the Trees of Mystery consisted solely of these rudimentary carvings, it would not have survived the past 40 years.
The grove's collection of magnificent and odd redwood trees should be enough to draw tourists here, but sadly they are not. It takes a 50-foot effigy and his oversized blue bull to entice travelers off the road and away from their schedules.
The trail emptied into the End of the Trail Native American Museum. This extensive museum and gift shop contained a remarkable collection of Native America artifacts that was, in fact, worth seeing even if we were not incline to walk the mountain. Turns out the museum can be entered from the parking lot, and there's no fee.
Heading Home
On the road home it wasn't long before Kimi was asleep again. I sighed with relief. There had been no real scrapes or bruises, no meltdowns. We had hiked a little, drank hot chocolate with marshmallows, and never had to use the portable DVD player. In all, a perfect weekend.
The truck and trailer worked well. I calculated the Yukon's overall gas mileage. It penciled out to 12.3 mpg on average. Because I took an impromptu survey of other SUV owners with trailers, I discovered that my rig had managed to burn about one third less fuel than an old-technology V-8 would have consumed. It was significant when taking into account how well the Yukon did without a trailer. The high-quality fit and finish of the GMC gives us hope for the American truck market.
Same goes for the Feather Ex-Port from Jayco. Asked to house only one adult and one kid, the trailer was a condo on wheels. With its expandable sleeping quarters and nicely equipped interior, it could easily support four campers in near-luxury. The trailer's balance between size and amenities makes it a good candidate for long-term ownership and one that would probably be passed from one generation to the next.
Together, the two vehicles created the kind of low-impact, fuel-efficient rig that everyone may soon be hunting for.
"Hybrid" may be the latest catchword in the automotive industry, but as the technology improves, it will undoubtedly become the bridge between the cars my parents drove and the ones my daughter will drive.
As Kimi slept, the Yukon-Ex-Port rolled smoothly along. I kept rhythm with the song "Knockin' on Heaven's Door" and glanced at the passing forest, hoping to see more wildlife.
Or, perhaps, a wave from Dad.
Our Favorite Stops

Samoa Cookhouse
908 Vance Ave., Eureka, CA
(707) 442-1659
www.samoacookhouse.net

Humboldt Redwoods State Park
Humboldt County, CA
(707) 946-2409
www.humboldtredwoods.org

Del Norte Coast Redwoods State Park
Del Norte County, CA
(707) 465-2146
www.stateparks.com/del_norte_coast_redwoods.html

Trees of Mystery
P.O. Box 96
Klamath, CA 95548
(800) 638-3389
www.treesofmystery.net
Jayco Feather Ex-Port 17C SPECIFICATIONS
Online: www.jayco.com
MSRP: $15,171
Sleeping Capacity: 5-6
Unloaded Vvehicle Weight: 2,850 lb
Hitch Weight:  465 lb
Gross Vehicle Weight:  3,500 lb
Cargo Carrying Capacity: 650 lb
Exterior Travel Length: 17 ft 4 in
Exterior Height w/ opt A/C: 115 in
Interior Headroom: 78 in
Interior Height: 106 in
Freshwater Capacity: 30.5 gal (includes water heater)
Gray Wastewater Capacity: 30.5 gal
Toilet/Black-Water Capacity: 22.5 gal

Likes: Expandability of the sleeping areas. Very nicely appointed galley. Ease of towing.
Dislikes: The molded-in shower seat takes up too much room in an already size-deficient shower. The Dinette table was a bit too flimsy and awkward to get around.
Photo 10/10   |   0906rv 06 2008 Gmc Yukon Hybrid Road Test Trailer Towing Right
GMC Yukon Hybrid SPECIFICATIONS
MSRP: 2WD $50,945, 4WD $53,755
Engine: Vortec 6.0L V-8 with Active Fuel Management and two-mode hybrid propulsion system; 332 hp, 367 lb-ft
Hybrid: Hybrid Propulsion Electric; 300V battery pack
Braking: Four-wheel antilock, four-wheel disc brakes, VAC power with VSES, rated at 7700 lb GVWR
Safety Features: StabiliTrak with Traction Control, stability control with proactive roll avoidance
Comforts: AM/FM stereo with MP3-compatible CD player, DVD-based navigation, hybrid powerflow display, and rearview camera. Driver Information Center with compass and exterior temperature gauge. Heated leather front bucket seats including six-way power driver and passenger seats. Second-row 60/40 split folding bench with leather appointments (three passengers). Third-row 50/50 split bench (three passengers).
Wheels: 18-inch bright aluminum
Towing Capacity: 6,200 lb

Likes: Fit and finish are first-class. Performance is good, even when lugging the extra weight of the hybrid electronics, there was plenty of power and torque.
Dislikes: The price. General Motors needs to produce more Hybrid Yukons to lower the MSRP. But until gas stays over $5 a gallon, it's probably difficult to justify it.

Sources

Big Agnes
Steamboat Springs, CO 80487
877-554-8975
bigagnes.com
Klean Kanteen
Chico, CA 95973
530-345-3275
kleankanteen.com

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