Do Not Fear the SuperDuty 🛻

I spent sixty thousand dollars on a brand-new SuperDuty, and yet, there’s a part of me that’s still hesitant to even turn the key. It isn’t a fear of the machine itself—Old Smokey has a solid, planted ride, though that straight front axle definitely reminds you of its presence when the pavement gets choppy. No, it’s more of a deep-seated resentment toward the act of driving in the modern world.

I love big trucks, but I’ve grown to loathe the suburban grind. The stoplights, the congestion, the speed traps, and the constant feeling of being under a microscope by law enforcement—it’s exhausting, especially in the city. Out on the open country roads, away from the multi-lane interstates and urban sprawl, the experience is transformed. But today, I had to venture into the belly of the beast.

I needed a new chain link for my bike after getting burned by some cheap Chinese garbage on Amazon. It was a stark reminder: never buy critical bike parts online unless they’re the same established brands you’d find at your local bike shop. I hated every minute of the commute. I intentionally waited until after 9:00 AM to head into the office just to let the rush hour fever break, and even then, I took the back way through the city just to avoid the expressway madness.

I’m lucky to have a suburban office with acres of free parking, but I still don’t want my working years defined by a daily commute. One day a week is plenty. However, taking the SuperDuty down to Hudson on Sunday to explore those preserves and parks reminded me why I bought this rig in the first place. On the open road, it’s a dream—solid, powerful, and offering a commanding view through those massive towing mirrors. It’s a truck, plain and simple. And in a few weeks, once that ARE MX camper shell is finally installed, it’ll be the perfect escape pod.

I realized I’ve missed the countryside. It was a long, cold winter without a truck after I retired Big Red. Out on the rural blacktop, the 6.8L gasser actually surprised me, pulling down 15.7 MPG even with some stop-and-go in town. That’s more than fair for a one-ton HD truck that’s meant for recreation, not commuting.

Of course, the news is a constant drumbeat of rising gas prices. You see the horror stories on Facebook of guys getting 8 MPG while towing heavy, and you do the math: 34 gallons at five bucks a pop is a $170 fill-up. If the doomsayers are right and we see ten-dollar gas, things are going to get ugly, especially for the folks out West. But I topped off the tank the other day—just a hair below half—for $83. It didn’t sting as much as I expected. Seeing “460 miles to empty” on the dash felt like a security blanket.

For now, I’m content to let Old Smokey sit a bit. I want to savor those three digits on the odometer and keep that new-truck feeling alive as long as I can. This is likely the last new truck I’ll ever buy before I finally hang it up and head for that off-grid homestead in 2040. Until then, I’ll be counting smiles per gallon, not miles per gallon.