“It’s a compelling machine. It rides so well. It’s incredibly versatile,” I say to the camera filming my first-ever drive in a Chevy Avalanche — a 20-year-old vehicle that I’d been admiring since I was just a young teenager. I was never really sure what to make of the truck, with its odd “sail pillar” buttressing the back of the cab to the bedsides; with its blankets of gray plastic cladding adorning much of the exterior; with its peculiar proportions. It always seemed a bit … weird; but now, after having driven an Avalanche that someone traded in to Galpin, I get it. In fact, I more than “get it.” I adore it.
Automakers these days are really leaning into “whiz-bang” storage features — I’m talking about fun things like the Rivian R1T’s pass-through storage bin below the bed, the Honda Ridgeline’s dual-mode tailgate and under-bed storage, the Rambox, the Hyundai Ioniq 5’s drawer-style glovebox, the Ford F-150 Lightning’s huge frunk, the Fisker Ocean’s under-seat gloveboxes, the Bollinger’s…everything, and on and on. People love it when their vehicle can offer utility in a fun way, and this is something that automakers have known for many decades – just look at the Powell’s fishing rod holders in its bedsides or Chrysler’s legendary Stow ‘n Go seating.
But in the pantheon of automobile history, a few vehicles stand out among the rest — vehicles with so much versatility, they could almost act as multiple vehicles in one. And, without a doubt, one of the automobiles in that pantheon is the Chevy Avalanche.
It was an outside-the-box idea during a time when GM was throwing the kitchen sink at the car market. And I do mean kitchen sink; there was the Pontiac Aztek, a spacious little adventure SUV that many consider the ugliest car of all time; there was the Cadillac CTS-V, which made more power than that held by all the car-gods combined; there was the Chevy HHR, a Chrysler PT-Cruiser competitor; there was the Chevy SSR, a weird convertible pickup-car; there was the GMC Envoy XUV, an SUV whose roof could slide in such a way to turn the vehicle into a pickup truck; there was the Hummer H2, a real-life Tonka truck. I can go on and on, but the point is this: The 2000s was an unbelievably creative era for GM, and I’d argue that the Avalanche was the most creative vehicle that came out of it.
This brings me to the 2004 model that I had the pleasure of piloting a few weeks ago. Someone had traded it in to Galpin Premier, which sells Aston Martin, Jaguar, Land Rover, and other luxury cars. I like to think that someone had the ultimate midlife crisis and brought in this old 150,000 mile Avalanche and traded it for a 700+ horsepower Aston Martin DBS, though I’ll never know. What I do know is that this “someone” took excellent care of their Avalanche, because the thing looked great!
This Trade-In Was Gorgeous
The paint looked good, the dashboard was only slightly cracked (a miracle in California, especially for a GM product), and aside from the driver’s seat having a little tear, the interior looked borderline mint!
It’s still a 2000s GM interior, though, so it’s all hard plastics and really chunky, almost Tonka Truck-ish styling, but it all seemed to work, and I can appreciate all the physical switches now that we’ve entered an era where screens have replaced glovebox latches and headlight dials.
The Sail Pillars
Anyway, let’s get into what makes an Avalanche special. First, there’s the body design, which blends the bed/box with the cab. Typically, a pickup truck has a separate box/bed, with a gap between it and the cab; the Avalanche has no such gap, as it’s all integrated into a single piece. This necessitates some kind of buttress to prevent the bed from wanting to twist or bend as loads enter the truck via the rear wheels (or the rear hitch, when towing); those buttresses are called Sail Pillars or Sail Panels. That’s these triangular-looking, plastic-covered bits connecting the back of the cab to the bedsides:
Yes, that plastic isn’t just there for looks, it’s actually covering metal, which is there to stiffen up the single-piece body (which it’s worth noting, sits on a separate ladder frame).
The Bedside Storage Bins
Just aft of each sail pillar is a storage bin, which is exactly the same concept as the “Ram Box” that the Ram brand has been advertising since the 2009 model year. The Avalanche beat Ram to the punch by seven years.
Speaking of “punch,” there was a punch (of sorts) in this traded-in Avalanche’s right rear storage box. Have a look:
Fireball!
The driver’s side bin had more … useful stuff inside, such as a trailer hitch and trailer tow wiring. The screenshot above shows me digging through that bin, and also shows an interesting-looking triangular piece. It turns out that’s a “tie-down triangle,” and it seemed to me to be made out of some beefy, heavy metal:
The Midgate: An Invention From The Heavens
But as cool as the sail pillar and those bedside bins are, the Avalanche’s main party trick is the…
Midgate! You’ll see in our video at the top of this post that every time I say “midgate” the word pops up, and is joined by an angelic sound. Because, you see, the midgate is an almost divine invention, created not by General Motors engineers but by the car-gods themselves. It is a device meant to turn an “SUV” into a pickup truck:
At least, that’s how Chevy marketed it. I think that’s a bit much; yes, the Avalanche shared its chassis (including the nice-riding coil-sprung suspension) with the Chevy Suburban, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s an SUV and truck all-in-one; I might say it’s a crew cab and a regular cab all-in-one.
Because that’s essentially what the Midgate does: It turns a five-passenger, 5-foot-bed pickup into a two-passenger eight-foot-bed pickup. This all happens via a few simple steps. First, you fold the rear seat bottoms forward so they stand upright against the two front seats, and then you fold the seatbacks flat. From there, you turn a rotary lock/knob on each side of the truck. You can see that knob on the left side of this screenshot:
After that, you twist the latch at the center of the crossbar that spans the cab between the C-pillars:
This unlatches the front section of the bed, which folds flat:
Removing the glass is as simple as undoing two latches in the headliner, and pushing against a spring-loaded stopper that prevents the glass from quickly falling forward as soon as those latches have been undone:
That center crossbar also unlatches when you twist the center handle, and if you remove the three tonneau-cover panels (which are numbered, and unbelievably satisfying to unlatch; I strongly recommend that everyone try to unlatch an Avalanche’s tonneau cover panels because the latches are that good), you end up with a humongous opening. And driving around with the whole rear part of your cab open is badass:
Of course, the Midgate isn’t there for badassery, it’s there for utility. I decided to put that utility to the test via a junkyard run. I wrote about this junkyard-run a few weeks ago, and while the main takeaway was that it’s unbelievable how much easier it is to wrench on California cars than Michigan cars, the secondary takeaway was how useful the Avalanche is.
The axle isn’t that long, but I had the tonneau cover panels in the truck, so I couldn’t turn the Dana 30 diagonally, meaning it did have to jut a bit into the cab.
Lifting the 200-ish pound axle from my junkyard wheelbarrow into the bed of the truck was horrible, and my back hurt for hours afterward. The process was not aided by the Avalanche’s rubber floor liner, which Chevy marketed as a nice bit of bed protection, but which in reality is an annoying feature that prevents things from sliding, forcing you to have to lift.
Here I am on the highway, realizing that if I hit the brakes hard enough – or heaven forbid, get into a crash – that 200-pound axle will be careening directly for the back of my seat, probably killing me. This is a downside of the Midgate. Tying down your load is always a good idea, but it becomes even more important when there’s no front section of bed and back section of cab between you and that load.
I Regret Not Buying The Truck
I’m fairly sure I could have scored this Avalanche for a song, but I reasoned that I don’t need another vehicle. My fleet is already out of hand. Plus, the truck wasn’t perfect; the right rear window regular was clearly failing if the cardboard shoved between the glass and the seal is any indication:
The air conditioning compressor’s belt wasn’t even connected; it just dangled down against the truck’s front sway bar:
And that 4L60-E four-speed automatic transmission made a bit of a clunk every now and then, and given that transmission’s reputation, I’m sure I’d be rebuilding (or, more likely replacing) it very soon.
Still, those are minor quibbles. I can get a rebuilt 4L60E for nothing, I can swap a belt in my sleep, I can fix a window regulator with a junkyard one for pennies, and sure, the front suspension was a bit sloppy, but swapping out ball joints and tie rod ends isn’t rocket science.
I should have bought this truck. That 5.3-liter V8 under hood was perfection. It was smooth, and powerful, and parts availability is among the best on earth:
The ride quality from that Chevy Suburban-derived coil-sprung five-link rear axle was excellent, and above all, the truck just had soul. It’s just a weird and wacky machine that’s legitimately comfortable, useful, and dirt cheap. A good one can be had for under $5,000. I could have had an excellent tow vehicle (it can tug over 7500 pounds) for probably half of that.
Anyway, after my little junkyard expedition, I headed to a gas station, added back the two gallons I’d burned driving 30 or so miles, and then had to quickly run to a Super Bowl party at my girlfriend’s parents house. Unfortunately, my hands were covered in axle oil, and I had no place to wash my hands other than a spigot. I also had no soap, so…
It didn’t work.
After unsuccessfully trying to avoid getting grease on my girlfriend’s Lexus RX’s interior, I greeted my her parents with absolutely filthy hands and tried my best to keep my focus on the Super Bowl … and avoid allowing my mind to daydream about the incredible truck I’d just driven.
The Avalanche is that special of a truck.
David, I own a 2002 Avalanche 2500. I’ve had it for 3 years and I hope I never have to part with it. It is such an incredible family hauler and I love that it’s such an odd duck. The midgate, the removable back glass,
8.1 liters of grunt, bedside storage compartments… The only way this thing could be cooler is if they offered it with Quadrasteer.
Purchased a 2002 in the second half of 2023. Love being able to remove the rear window & put all the windows down, but also have the utility of the bed. They certainly have some quirks but overall I’m a big fan, aside from the 13.5 MPG average fuel economy.
I always thought that these things were absurd unless you live in Southern California. Pro tip: a teaspoon of sugar mixed with dishwashing liquid makes a great handcleaner hack.
I wish more information behind the trade was available. It seems like there’s a whole story there. A 20-year old Avalanche with South Dakota plates was traded in at a luxury car dealership in Los Angeles? For what? Why? Do they still live in South Dakota? Did this previously belong to someone who just made it big in Hollywood?
I know I said this in the Discord, but after the bottle of fireball bit in the video, I really wanted to see an article about the weirdest things Galpin (or any other dealers) have found left behind in traded-in vehicles.
Of course it’s company policy never to, imply ownership in the event of a dildo… always use the indefinite article a dildo, never your dildo.
Quote aside, I’m betting that particular item has been found, repeatedly.
Probably. Oddest item, I’m betting on a prosthetic of some kind. Arm, leg, glass eye. Unless the 400lbs of coke in the gas tank that went unclaimed counts.
I definitely have seen news stories about police seized then auctioned cars being sold and folks finding even more drugs hidden in them than the police did. I’d count that.
Your other suggestions definitely would be noteworthy…like if it happened, how would it have gone unnoticed?
Maybe someone was being literal. I traded in my car, and it ended up costing me an arm and a leg.
Ooh this is the good one without all the cladding! Too bad it’s a 2wd, that’s a pass for me.
I’ve always liked these without the cladding, other than the cat-eye front end. Swapping an early Chevy front clip (or a GMC) would make a huge difference.
I think the GMT900 version is way better looking though, but I’d expect the 800’s to be more reliable. The 900 was available with the 6.2L though, which is pretty cool.
I’d like to have one as an offroad/overland style build, I think this would be good for that. It can be a pickup and carry more gear, but you can also sleep in it. One of those SUV tents over the rear would be cool.
I appreciate that the Fireball features in several of the photos. It sets a tone. Probably not THE tone, but a RIGHT tone.
Bins! Gosh, that’s half the reason why I bring a Puffalump to review stuff. “Where can I cram this and/or my purse?” is a great stand-in for small items picked up while running errands and, well, my purse. I don’t like leaving stuff out in the open when I park, and SUVs and pickups in particular are kinda garbage for that. Bonus points to manufacturers that offer a solid purse bin that means it won’t take up space in the damn footwell, too. All the bonus points.
Also, a window regulator failing is a recurring feature of General Motors vehicles, if our multiple-GM household was any indication. Every. Single. One. Without fail. Every single car we had spanning the ’80s through the ’00s had at least one power window regulator fail. I learned early on that touching the window button was an immediate punishable offense, if not by my mom, then by the fact that the frickin’ thing would get stuck in some awkward position.
My 88 Grand prix had the window regulators fail every now and then, and the window would pop out of the guide rails. I got really good at being able to guide that window back into place without taking off the door panel after about the 3rd time it happened. It’s been about 18 years since I had that car, but the muscle memory is still there.
Used to do that in my ’94 Oldsmobile too.
I consider myself to be pretty knowledgeable about cars & stuff, but honestly was not aware of the storage bin thing in this vehicle. Oh yeah Stef, you are also correct about window regs on GM vehicles in this time – I eventually learned how to replace them myself, which mitigated some of the drama. I also learned to replace the stupid plastic fasteners that secure the door trim to the door itself, because they’re designed to never work again once removed.
Chuckled when I saw the Z66 on the side. Here in the Appalachian foothills, I had seen only Z71s and did not know the 66 denoted a 2wd model until I asked a gentleman with Florida tags what was going on.
First time I’ve ever heard of that as well. TIL.
I’m imagining other David Tracy firsts:
“I can’t believe I can drink this coffee without burning my hands” – David Tracy, upon first encountering a handled coffee mug”Whiskey that doesn’t taste like oxidized copper and antifreeze! And believe me, I know what antifreeze tastes like – I can tell the difference between propylene glycol and ethylene glycol in a blind taste test!” – David Tracy, upon chugging fireball for the first time
Note the above is in jest. I’m always entertained by his description of creature comforts, but the amount of engineering detail recognized should not pass without comment, either.
He drives his girlfriend’s Lexus now
Sick burn
It’s not really a burn, he literally wrote multiple articles on it
facetious much?
> “someone” took excellent care of their Avalanche, because the thing looked great!
Those cataracts in lieu of head lights and cardboard window regulator beg to differ.
> The air conditioning compressor’s belt wasn’t even connected; it just dangled down against the truck’s front sway bar:
> And that 4L60-E four-speed automatic transmission made a bit of a clunk every now and then, and given that transmission’s reputation, I’m sure I’d be rebuilding (or, more likely replacing) it very soon.
> Still, those are minor quibbles.
Does “minor” mean something different in Michigan or something?
:'( I just haven’t had time to un-fog and/or replace my older headlamp. I’ve tried keeping up with the mechanicals on the Lancer and it is a pampered little stinker, but. But.
I’m doing my best, allegedly, I swear! My poor car.
Have you seen David’s other vehicles*? He’s willingly bought vehicles which are more rust than car.
*pre-‘moving to California and getting all fancy’ vehicles anyway 😉
David, I liked how you actually carried cargo in your Avalanche review. Not just tomatoes mind you, but a hunking mass of ZJ axle. Pickup’s purpose fulfilled right there
I put 160k miles on my ’07 Avalanche. Think the GMT-900 based second-generation was much more attractive. Absolutely loved it and still miss it. WIsh I would have bought a new one the last year they were sold in ’13 as I would probably still be driving it. Rode way better than any truck and with the midgate was more useful than a crew cab 5’5″ bed 1/2 ton. 4×8 pieces of sheetrock completely covered in the rain.
These are basically a Tahoe or Suburban with tricks done to the back end, no?
More or less, a suburban because of the rear doors being square and not notched for the wheel arch like a tahoe
Those SUVs are basically a pickup with a body thrown on, so the circle is complete.
Yes, Suburban based. That’s why they ride so well, they have the Suburban 1500 rear coil spring suspension rather than the leaf springs in the 1500 pickups.
They actually also made a 2500 Avalanche that had rear leaves and was available with the 8.1Liter. I think it was a recent holy grail.
Leave it to David to pick nits about AC compressors and window regulators….
Glad to see this series again. You had me actually laughing out loud at several spots. Never realized Avalanches had storage cubbies in the bed sides. I thought these were a little odd when they first came out, but I can see the appeal of them now.
Speaking of “punch,” there was a punch (of sorts) in this traded-in Avalanche’s right rear storage box. Have a look – Fireball!
Um, are you sure that’s not *used* Fireball?
It didn’t work.
Well I guess that’s one way to check.
Hey DT. Your thumbnail photo with the booze reminds me of that guy who used to live behind the dumpster at the waffle house. Thanks for the laugh. No offense intended.
Seriously.
Different guy. David lives behind the dumpster at Arby’s.
David would live behind the dumpsters at Galpin if Beau would let him
He already has a work bay in the parking lot with 0 of his six cars in the bay.
“Sir, this is an Arby’s.” – heard by DT 3 times a day, minimum, every time he taps on the door wanting to use their bathroom
The Avalanche takes me back to the times of the housing bubble. I saw a bunch of these in Arizona in the mid-to-late aughts. And a realtor (a real character) I worked with drove me around in one as I looked at homes.
I don’t know why I associate the Hummer H2 and H3 as the Official Cars of the Bad Times while the Avalanche gets a pass, but that may be because the Avalanche is a bit clever, silly and interesting. I’d still prefer it if the midgate popped forward instead of just got removed, but it’s a neat, wild idea, either way.
Stef, the Midgate folds down on top of the seats, and you do not have to remove the rear window.
I did this all the time when I picked up reno supplies for our house; I could fold the Midgate and put all sorts of long items in with the bed panel on. It was really great in bad weather, as everything was protected; water on the bed panels channeled to drains that ran down inside the bed, so the bed stayed dry.
Once unloaded, it only took a minute to lock the Midgate, pop the seats in place, put in the car seats, and go pick up my (then young) children from daycare.
I had a 2002 model with all the cladding. It was the best truck I’ve ever owned.
“Removed” was poorly worded—I wish it’d slide forward instead of fold down and remain a wall.
It’s a neat truck even with the openable rear, though.
Funny that the Aztek was mentioned in this article, as the two vehicles have something else in common: The Aztek was part of the grand prize in the premier season of Survivor. The Avalanche was the car prize in season 3 (although not the grand prize).
I still think the midgate is a great idea that could make the short-bed crew cab trucks of today more palatable for a lot of people. (Particularly those people who lament the loss of the long bed in higher trims.)
Honestly, I need a tow vehicle… but I’d considered the Escalade EXT with the larger 400hp engine. Though there was an Avalance with the 6.0 liter for a few years. I like the 2nd gen better just from the looks.
I always shied away a bit just because dropping the midgate left nothing between the cargo and driver. It seems that with all the manipulation needed that it couldn’t have been that much harder to have an additional panel just move forward as a protective measure.
The Silvarado EV is the spiritual successor I guess…along with that crazy RAM EV concept that seems to have gone nowhere. Putting in a third row of seats seems entirely feasible as well… crazy, but do-able.
When you flip up the seats, it actually does provide a panel that gives you some protection from cargo coming forward. I’ve carried large, heavy sheet metal in the back of my ’13 Avalanche without concern. It’s just taller items that you need to be careful with.
The 8.1 was available for short time in the 3/4 ton version of the Avalanche. The ‘Holy Grail’ Avalanche.
*gaaaaasp*
This came up in the sidebar of this Avalanche drive’s YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1YLoPdqOkus
COPYCATS! (Or, well, the use of a term that’s passed into common parlance.)
Yes, but I don’t think it was as powerful as the Caddy’s was it? I mean, the 3/4 ton was nice. That was indeed a rare bird I imagine. The Suburban it was based on was hard to find. Even rarer, I think like the US Park Service or some other gov’t branch had a special order for 3/4 tons in the newer body style that no one else could get (the SUV, not the Avalanche).
I will never give up my Avalanche. Once you’ve had a midgate, you can’t live without it. I’ve hauled everything from sheet metal to picnic tables in it, and when the midgate’s up, it’s as nice as a Cadillac Escalade inside. The last time my mother-in-law visited, she said she felt like a diplomat being chauffeured in it.
One other thing the midgate does – it turns the Avalanche into a great stealth camper. If you’re just napping for the night, you can put the midgate down but keep the glass up and tonneau cover on, and you’ve got room for a full-sized air mattress in the back. No one would suspect you were back there, especially if you have nice dark glass.
Or you can get a tent for the back from Napier that lets you sleep in space and comfort while you keep the midgate open, giving you full access to the cab.
Pity they gave up on the design. Sometimes you have to stick with it for a long time before customers “get it”.
Had an ’07. Gave it up when I moved to the US. Probably one of the few vehicles that I’ve owned that I actually miss.
At this stage of my life, any truck I’d consider buying would have to pass a test: am I able to haul 4 cu. yds. of mushroom compost/manure in it? I don’t think I want to haul manure in the passenger compartment of the vehicle I’m driving.
Are you suggesting there are at least a few people who feel differently?
The new fastback BMW SUVs, the ungainly proportioned Wagoneer and the Cybertruck sure are giving the Aztek a run for its money. So many contenders today. So. Many.
FIFY
Oh gosh, yes. The bucktooth boiz are so ungainly that I’ve tried to block them from my mind.
Everyone thought the Bangle era was bad – this era is inconceivably worse. I saw a Bangle-butt 5-series today, and thought, maybe the Bangle butt isn’t so bad…
Yes, there are those of us who don’t hate the Aztec. I may have even test driven one before signing up for my E46 3-series (it wasn’t much of a contest when you used your right foot). The cyber truck is most definitely worse than the Aztec – at least to anyone who has an iota of design sense. (I am not going to fight autocorrect on the c vs. k)
We featured how difficult that transmission is to access, last year, here:
https://www.theautopian.com/i-took-on-a-bad-gm-design-in-a-hail-mary-attempt-to-fix-my-friends-broken-suburban-but-it-was-too-little-too-late/
Sounds like you just theoretically volunteered to help fictional David if he were to buy it.
Hands down, without a doubt, son!
Also, “Fictional David” FTW.