Chevrolet Suburban celebrates 75 years, Autoblog drives every generation
#1
Chevrolet Suburban celebrates 75 years, Autoblog drives every generation
Chevrolet Suburban celebrates 75 years, Autoblog drives every generation
Quick, what's the longest-running nameplate in the car business?
If you said Honda Civic, you deserve to be smacked upside the head with a four-inch exhaust tip – it's merely 37 model years old. The vehicle we're talking about is positively prehistoric by comparison. The Porsche 911? Wrong again, as it only predates the Civic by a decade. You're getting closer if you said the Ford F-Series, but still, FoMoCo didn't launch its best-selling pickup until 1948.
You've got to go all the way back to 1935 for the launch of the auto industry's Methuselah, the Chevrolet Suburban. That makes 2010 the 75th anniversary of the full-size SUV archetype. To celebrate, Chevy opened its vault on one of the Dog Days of August to let journalists drive a handful of vintage models.
It was something of a belated party, as GM stopped building 2010 model year Suburbans in June, including the special Diamond Edition model. But we're not going to complain about being given the opportunity to get seat time in eight of the ten historic "Caryall" generations. Model years 1936, 1946, 1951, 1966, 1972, 1990, 1999 and 2002 were on hand, most thanks to GM's Heritage Center.
We decided that the only proper way to approach the task was to drive back in history. This served well to highlight not just how much the Suburban has changed in recent model years, but how much the auto industry has evolved since the pre-war era. But it also showed how consistent the Suburban has been over all these years, offering eight-passenger capability in a roomy wagon body mounted on a heavy truck frame since its inception. History has shown this formula's a winner; Chevy estimates it has built between 2.25–2.4 million Suburbans in total.
Ninth and Tenth Generation
As you might imagine, there weren't a lot of surprises to be found in the 2002 or 1999 Suburban. Representing the ninth (1992-1999) and tenth generation (2000-2006), this pair was baked from fundamentally the same recipe as the current Suburban. You've got to give GM credit, as it really got it right when it introduced the 1992 model.
Eighth Generation
It was behind the wheel of the 1990 model that things got interesting. This is the Suburban that truly defined the breed, the eighth generation that was produced from 1973 through 1991. Yes, that's 18 years, meaning that this model served through five presidential administrations. It was the first Suburban to offer four doors, and the first to have a big-block V8 engine option, the 454-cid in 1973. The eighth-generation Suburban received plenty of upgrades over the years, as interiors were revised and the front end was restyled. A diesel was offered and engines became fuel injected in the late 1980s. Its base price quadrupled, from a mere $3,832 in 1973 to $16,720 in 1991. While this era of Suburban was the first to seem tame enough for everyday transportation when judged by modern standards – that having four doors thing really helps – by 1990 it was certainly a truly medieval vehicle, dated from the inside out.
Seventh Generation
The 1972 Suburban was our favorite, with an interior that looks like it could have been pulled from a contemporary Impala, and a classy two-tone exterior. It drove like a vintage pickup, which is to say its three-speed manual transmission (with a "creeper" first gear) and over-boosted power steering was a not-unpleasant reminder that SUVs were once work vehicles, but it was still modern enough that we wouldn't hesitate to drive one in today's traffic. Surely you could keep up thanks to the classic Chevy 350-cid small-block V8, even if it was rated at just 175 horsepower. The 1967–1972 Suburban (the seventh generation) betrays the subtle attention to detail that defined the Bill Mitchell era of GM design, when the company could seemingly do no wrong. This was the generation of Suburban that introduced the three-door design (one on the driver's side and two on the passenger's side, like a van). It was also the first Suburban to assume more modern proportions, with a 127-inch wheelbase and 215-inch overall length.
Sixth Generation
was behind the wheel of the 1966 Suburban when things started to get a bit primitive. This was a two-door model, like all that preceded it, and it was noticeably smaller than the newer generations we'd already driven. Like other early 1960's vehicles (we're thinking mostly of the Corvette), this sixth generation of Suburban – produced from 1960–1966 – served as a transition for the nameplate. It's interesting to note that GM has no production records for the Suburban prior to 1963.
Fourth and Fifth Generation
The fifth-generation Suburban was not represented, but Chevy did have a fourth-generation 1951 model there to show off what the vehicle looked like in the immediate post-war period (1947-1954). This was the first model that seemed overly antique, thanks to its 92-horsepower "Stovebolt Six" with a "three-on-the-tree" manual transmission and a floor-mounted starter. At least it had a much nicer interior (with a radio, even) when compared to the 1946 model.
Third Generation
This was a holdover of the third-generation Suburban that debuted in 1941, prior to World War II, and cost just $837 at the time. Its three-speed manual transmission was floor-mounted, and its inline-six rated at just 90 horsepower, though with 165 lb-ft of torque, was still a contemporary towing machine. It's worth mentioning that Suburbans from this era did not have four-wheel drive, which didn't come along until 1957. The one thing that really caught our eye about the 1946 was its polished wood floor, which was just beautiful. The steering wheel, however, felt like it came from a bread truck, with a circumference like an extra-large pizza. Seats had exposed metal frames, which seem shocking in this era of side-impact airbags.
First and Second Generation
No second-generation vehicle was on hand, but Chevy did have a 1936 model, an "original" Suburban. We weren't able to drive it, but we did get a good look at the interesting way it was built. You could actually see exposed nail heads where the sheet metal had been bent around the wood frame and nailed in place. GM claims the Suburban was the first steel-bodied station wagon built on a truck frame. This 1936 model was the first with hydraulic brakes, and was powered by a version of the original Stovebolt Six that made just 79-horsepower.
Galleries:
http://www.autoblog.com/photos/chevr...event/#3300969
http://www.autoblog.com/photos/chevr...years/#3301079
Source:
http://www.autoblog.com/2010/08/26/c...ives-every-ge/
#6
Lexus Fanatic
Possibly, but it was actually more of a people/cargo mover than an SUV as we know it. Most automotive historians credit the postwar 1946 ******-Jeep Wagon as the first true SUV.
Unlike the postwar Suburban, the Jeep Wagon had a time-proven part-time 4WD system.
Unlike the postwar Suburban, the Jeep Wagon had a time-proven part-time 4WD system.
#7
Lexus Fanatic
Quick, what's the longest-running nameplate in the car business?
Of course, the name "Beetle" did not really apply until after the war...at first, it was known as the German "People's Car"...the term for which the German words "Volks-Wagen" come from.
The original air-cooled, rear-engine Beetle (in updated forms) was built in Mexico and some other countries up to just a few years ago, and, of course, the nameplate lives on with the modern FWD water-cooled VW Golf/Jetta platform.
Last edited by mmarshall; 08-26-10 at 08:56 PM.
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#8
I had a 99 LT.
Pulled boo-coo boats, a backhoe, Bobcat a couple times, and yanked out a hedge of red tips with it.
Didn't worry when Mom and a load of kids left the driveway in it - thing was a tank.
Suburbans
Pulled boo-coo boats, a backhoe, Bobcat a couple times, and yanked out a hedge of red tips with it.
Didn't worry when Mom and a load of kids left the driveway in it - thing was a tank.
Suburbans
#10
Lexus Fanatic
Exactly the point because over 95% of the SUV market today is dominated by people using the vehicles as people/cargo movers (not offroading, not trailer towing, not hauling truck-like loads, not snow-plowing, not doing commercial/trades work), with the SUV category now carved up into (subcategories of SUVs) crossovers, CUV's, etc.
#13
Lexus Fanatic
One of the reasons that the Suburban, Tahoe, Yukon, Denali, etc.... became so popular (and I've discussed this in other threads) is that, long ago, GM (foolishly, IMO) stopped building the large-full-sized, V8 body-on-frame wagons that allowed family-travel and heavy towing. Because those large conventional wagons were no longer available, people looked to large SUVs (and 4WD/AWD), as people/cargo-movers that had the added capability of going in the snow. The notion of 2-3 tons of steel encased around the driver/passengers also helped with the safety image...though, of course, the higher center-of-gravity didn't help with rollovers.
#14
Out of Warranty
I drove several Suburbans over the years, but nothing turned heads like my fire engine red '82 K-20 (3/4 ton, 4X4, for those unfamiliar with Chevy's truck codes). It got attention whereever we went, on plant sites, construction camps, oilfield board roads, just as it did in exclusive gated communities, country clubs, or in the valet line at a premiere. Men simply were drawn to the big red beast that with its silver trim, looked more like a fire engine than anything else on the road. It was the incarnation in steel of that old Tonka truck we all had as kids. Women swooned at its massive machismo, and children all pointed and jumped up and down with excitement. Drivers of Mercedes, even Porsches would give me an acknowledging nod, as if declaring their fealty to the mighty bowtie. I wouldn't have gotten any more attention if I'd set myself on fire.
Of course, the SUV boom was still a couple years away, and I'd like to think I had a hand in popularizing the genre. It was huge, in an age when everything else was downsizing. It stood tall and rugged among the neo-grecian luxoboats of its era, and even more so among the age of the jellybean cars that would follow. It was a WWE wrestling megastar at a meeting of accountants. It was an image car on steroids.
Did it work? Well, it went down the road well, was pretty comfortable, and carried eight with ease and without cramping, it could haul and tow massive loads without so much as breaking a sweat. It was pretty well appointed for a truck of its day, and often got real raves from my passengers.
The downside was that it was terribly slow. Carbureted small-block V8s were being strangled by emissions controls, and though it produced bags of torque for hauling, even crawling up a muddy trail with the courage that heavy lugged tires, two solid axles and heavywieght differentials and a massive transfer case with a low-range set of cogs that would limit top speed to 40 mph, while unstoppable off road, it was a pig on a winding two-lane. Sporting, it was not. It would heel like a 12-Meter yacht in a gale on entering a corner thanks to a CG somewhere up around your hips, and squirm its way out of the apex as four sets of leaf springs fought one another to re-establish where straight-ahead might be.
Brakes were another matter - you might say they were no matter at all. With big discs up front and a large pair of finned drums at the rear, the actual braking mechanism wasn't much worse than that found in your everyday pickup. The problem was the tires. The large diameter 16" rims mounted an odd tire size, not quite a 15" passenger car size, nor the 16.5 and up sizes used on larger trucks, Chevy built this one as a means to keep owners from installing big split-rims on their vehicles and face all of the inherant safety issues of changing or repairing one of these big meats.
That left the vehicle with a purpose-built set of rims that not everyone could fit a tire for. The available tires were all rather narrow at about 7.5", fine for traction in snow, but not much in mud, sand, or even a plowed field, where dropping tire pressures to around 14-16 psi was considered normal. You learned quickly that an on-board compressor was as essential as that "optional" 40 gal. gas tank.
With an all-up weight of six thousand pounds with a full load of fuel, those narrow tires had no chance at all of stopping you at speeds over 40. More pressure on the big pedal only raised the decibel level coming from outside the cabin. In the days before anti-locks you learned to think of your brake as the volume control on the vulcanized mayhem coming from outside - it sure didn't affect your rate of deceleration much.
A good set of premium gas-charged shocks and aftermarket sways were at the top of your mod list. Then the stiff shocks would rip the rear shock mounts from the frame and you would find a buddy with a torch and do a major design overhaul on your rear suspension. Once that was done, while steering was slow, the vehicle actually did a better job of remaining upright, and for the most part, save for a little head-toss when taking an obstacle at some angle other than head-on, thanks to those aftermarket bars, the ride comfort was still pretty reasonable.
Would I buy another after owning a brace of these vehicles, plus their predecessor, an International Travelall? That's hard to answer. If you need a big truck, the Suburban can't be beat, but do I really need a big truck? Probably not, but I'll give it a chance again one day. The Suburban has changed over the years - it's become a much better car . . . but I don't know if it's still a good truck.
Of course, the SUV boom was still a couple years away, and I'd like to think I had a hand in popularizing the genre. It was huge, in an age when everything else was downsizing. It stood tall and rugged among the neo-grecian luxoboats of its era, and even more so among the age of the jellybean cars that would follow. It was a WWE wrestling megastar at a meeting of accountants. It was an image car on steroids.
Did it work? Well, it went down the road well, was pretty comfortable, and carried eight with ease and without cramping, it could haul and tow massive loads without so much as breaking a sweat. It was pretty well appointed for a truck of its day, and often got real raves from my passengers.
The downside was that it was terribly slow. Carbureted small-block V8s were being strangled by emissions controls, and though it produced bags of torque for hauling, even crawling up a muddy trail with the courage that heavy lugged tires, two solid axles and heavywieght differentials and a massive transfer case with a low-range set of cogs that would limit top speed to 40 mph, while unstoppable off road, it was a pig on a winding two-lane. Sporting, it was not. It would heel like a 12-Meter yacht in a gale on entering a corner thanks to a CG somewhere up around your hips, and squirm its way out of the apex as four sets of leaf springs fought one another to re-establish where straight-ahead might be.
Brakes were another matter - you might say they were no matter at all. With big discs up front and a large pair of finned drums at the rear, the actual braking mechanism wasn't much worse than that found in your everyday pickup. The problem was the tires. The large diameter 16" rims mounted an odd tire size, not quite a 15" passenger car size, nor the 16.5 and up sizes used on larger trucks, Chevy built this one as a means to keep owners from installing big split-rims on their vehicles and face all of the inherant safety issues of changing or repairing one of these big meats.
That left the vehicle with a purpose-built set of rims that not everyone could fit a tire for. The available tires were all rather narrow at about 7.5", fine for traction in snow, but not much in mud, sand, or even a plowed field, where dropping tire pressures to around 14-16 psi was considered normal. You learned quickly that an on-board compressor was as essential as that "optional" 40 gal. gas tank.
With an all-up weight of six thousand pounds with a full load of fuel, those narrow tires had no chance at all of stopping you at speeds over 40. More pressure on the big pedal only raised the decibel level coming from outside the cabin. In the days before anti-locks you learned to think of your brake as the volume control on the vulcanized mayhem coming from outside - it sure didn't affect your rate of deceleration much.
A good set of premium gas-charged shocks and aftermarket sways were at the top of your mod list. Then the stiff shocks would rip the rear shock mounts from the frame and you would find a buddy with a torch and do a major design overhaul on your rear suspension. Once that was done, while steering was slow, the vehicle actually did a better job of remaining upright, and for the most part, save for a little head-toss when taking an obstacle at some angle other than head-on, thanks to those aftermarket bars, the ride comfort was still pretty reasonable.
Would I buy another after owning a brace of these vehicles, plus their predecessor, an International Travelall? That's hard to answer. If you need a big truck, the Suburban can't be beat, but do I really need a big truck? Probably not, but I'll give it a chance again one day. The Suburban has changed over the years - it's become a much better car . . . but I don't know if it's still a good truck.
#15
Having learned how to drive on an Explorer, I've always had a soft spot for SUV's. No matter the size of the market, there will always be a demand for these behemoth's. Only makes me more excited to see how the next Expedition/Navigator (with the 6.2L V8 or 2011 F-150 engine options) competes in this segment