Hummer VS Jeep

Jeep Wrangler Unlimited Rubicon vs. Hummer H3T

 

Last year, we compared the dirtside manners of the Hummer H2 and Toyota Land Cruiser. Both trucks did everything we asked of them, but at the end of the excursion we were left with another question begging to be answered: could the Hummer H3T stand up to the Jeep Wrangler Unlimited Rubicon? These cruiserweights live on a fatter part of the buying curve, and any time a Jeep is summoned to the ring, the other vehicle is inevitably the challenger. Even though the H3T is still relatively new to the world, it came time to find out if it was ready to stand up and fight for its place. Follow the jump to see how it held up.
n one corner, we have the 2010 Jeep Wrangler Rubicon Unlimited and in the other, the 2010 Hummer H3T fitted with the Adventure Package that adds such off-road accoutrement as 33-inch tires and a locking front differential.

The H3T is materially more vehicle, and it shows everywhere. You get more room inside, a better ride, and more power, but you lose out on things like approach and departure angles due to the Hummer's overhangs. Would it matter? We thought it time to find out.
But first we'd have a snoop around the two trucks. The Rubicon's styling gives only the merest nod to the word "design" – it's two rectangles with fender flares and bumpers. And for that, we like it. As with most Porsche products, the Jeep's exterior styling hasn't changed much over the last few decades – form follows function, and to good effect. If someone pulled up in a Wrangler Unlimited Rubicon and asked if you wanted to go for a bite, they might mean heading to the local Ruby Tuesday's or driving to the Pampas to slay some Argentine beef. The Rubicon, especially with a liberal coat of mud, is just that kind of contraption.

However, the rest of the Wrangler doesn't venture far beyond that level of nuance. In our previous review, we noted the Rubicon's asceticism and called it out for being "a Protestant affair." That's a fair description at best and, depending on how long you drive or where you're sitting, you might replace that with "penitent."

The original Willys Jeep was made in response to World War II. The Wrangler Rubicon Unlimited appears to have been made in preparation for World War III. Assuming that such a conflict transports us back to a quasi Stone Age, here is a quasi Stone Age vehicle with which to tackle that retro future. There is nothing wrong with it – it's just radically basic. Even though the seats were wrapped in cloth, the interior screamed "Clean me with a hose," something the Rubi's
 owners would be all too happy to oblige.

 Get on the move and you'll discover, as one of our fellow drivers remarked, "Every road is bumpy in the Rubicon." The short-ish wheelbase, high ride height, and a suspension tuned for Battlefield Earth will have you experiencing more good vibrations than you ever wanted. And that's if you're sitting in the front seat. If you're unlucky enough to be banished to the rear bench, with its Lilliputian bolsters and crippling lack of leg room, the encounter could give you PTSD and violent flashbacks every time someone mutters the word "Rubicon."

Yet the Rubicon knows its chosen habitat, and it knows its customers: Jeep-o-philes want a vehicle capable of doing the beat in town and capable of going anywhere off-road. Make no mistake

The H3T is not merely a horse of another color – it's an entirely different breed of equine. Hummer also knows its customers: They want to go anywhere and will pay a little more to get a little more. The nearly 500-pound weight difference doesn't just come down to footprints: there's a great deal more finish in the cabin: a thick, leather-wrapped steering wheel, more tactile controls, a six-disc CD changer, rear view camera, and a proper rear bench with great seating for two and just enough for three. And the ride is actually pleasant.

The H3T's giant 33-inch rubber certainly doesn't hurt, but the extra inch over the Jeep's BFGs isn't the only thing responsible for its vastly smoother road manners. Heavier and with a longer wheelbase, the H3T is planted where the Rubicon is petulant, and the extra cabin materials make for a more serene experience when ambling along at speed.

Unfortunately, getting up to those speeds is far less pleasurable. While the H3T has no issues gobbling up flat expanses, the inline-five needs a walker and a case of Red Bull when the time comes to get uphill quickly. Inclined roads suck the gumption out of the H3T and while downshifting is the only solution, when you finally reach peak output, the cabin fills with the din of internal combustion exertion. This truck will go, but it won't be quiet about it.

The complete package is wrapped in a look that's unmistakably Hummer. In a word: chunk. Lots of it. And while we enjoy the H3T's looks, at least two of our companions agree that although it's attractive, they couldn't deal with the badge. "I like it and I could even see having one," our grizzled bunkmate told us, "except... it's a Hummer."
The key, then, was to get both trucks to the kind of lonely, boulder-strewn playing field where brand judgments are dropped and the only measure of worth is arriving at the destination in one piece. Our chosen arena was the seven-rated, 23.5-mile Pleasant Loop Canyon Trail in the Panamint Range, adjacent to Death Valley. It peaks at 7,400 feet, with a trailhead of 300 feet. Between those two checkpoints were rocks, ruts, side slopes, trenches, a narrow and vertiginous bridge made of logs, and mud. Lots and lots of mud.

First-up: the Wrangler. Jeep absolutely owns this metier – lords over it – and the experience is as basic as the SUV itself, but shorn of its rough edges. Or rather, you don't notice them because – let's face it – you're crashing over everything.

Things getting a little tough? Put it in low and let it go. Things getting a lot tough? Hit one or both buttons and lock the diffs. Need – or just want – a little bit of sway? Press the buttons to release the bars and live a little. We wouldn't have minded a more substantial steering wheel, but the wheels don't need ham-fisted guidance if you know what you're doing.

Part of the Rubicon's basic-ness is its engine bay, where the V6 has so much room there's a good view of the ground underneath. While this was nifty in The Good Old Days, it wasn't so nifty when mud flew up and settled unevenly on the fan, causing the propellers to elicit a wobbling racket that made little sense to deal with until we got out of the mud... which took a while. Nothing a shroud couldn't fix, but we were surprised it wasn't included in the standard packaging.