A Canadian recounts his love for "Mabel" a 78 Suburban.

Read it here at: http://thistrainisforgourock.wordpress.com/2008/10/

A partial excerpt:

Theres something about American trucks. Now Im not talking just any American truck here. Im talking pickup trucks, Jimmys, Suburbans, like that. The old Suburbans especially, before they squared the headlights.

I used to drive a 1978 GM Suburban by the name of Mable. Huge beast of a thing. Sh**ty gas mileage, yes, but this was a proper truck. And she just seemed to fit me so well. The day I got her I felt like Id already been driving her for months. She had this classic look, evocative of the 50s, like a combination of a station wagon and a big ol pick-up truck. Huge bench seat in the front, another in the back, and acres of cargo space behind that, all enclosed by a burgundy steel shell with big, long windows. Add the big barn doors on the back? Classic.

So what was I doing with such a big truck? The usual answer is that the man with the big truck is trying to compensate for a perceived lacking. Maybe, but I did have a pretty good excuse. Id just bought a trailerable 24-foor sailboat, weighing in at about 3000 pounds, so I needed something to tow her with. Something hefty, something big. (I ended up living on that boat for 6 months, sans truck, but thats another story).

The thing was, she was just a f%*&ing pleasure to drive. The seats were comfortable, and you were up high where you could see all the traffic. The power was nice, and the exhaust had this eager, throaty note to it. I mean shed purr, no matter what you were asking of her. Once youve driven a V8 its very, very hard to go back. I miss it.