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Read about or ride in the old Tacoma and you'd think it had been conceived as some kind of NASA physical punishment regimen. The new Tacoma elicits no more pain than a P.E. class. To be specific, every bump passes through the competent front double-wishbones almost unnoticed, then makes the lightly-loaded, leaf-sprung rear axle jump. So it's jiggly, but it rarely gets much worse, and any Tacoma rides better with 1,535 pounds of bricks in its bed. Maybe we should stop there, since it's hard to make too many blanket statements about a truck with five different suspension setups.
Three different wheelbases and widely varying curb weights don't make handling evaluations any easier. Our Tacoma was lucky enough to have the TRD Offroad Package and its P265/70R16 tires, enabling it to turn with the dull-but-acceptable competence of a raised sedan, like some sort of monster truck Camry. We check-tested a second Tacoma that was triply cursed with skinnier tires, a standard suspension, and the aforementioned crew cab long-bed body, which made a tire-squealing symphony out of all but the mildest turns. Tires with a "B" traction rating explain a lot. Likewise, maneuvering with a 140.9-inch wheelbase calls for plenty of 3-point-turn parking lot jobs that are unnecessary with the Access Cab. Upside: the long stance softens the ride to the point of cushy.
So the Tacoma doesn't have the greatest limits, but if you don't exceed them, it feels almost carlike aside from the high-speed wind noise. Unlike some competitors, Toyota has been using rack-and-pinion steering on all its trucks for some time now. Even if their engineers tune it so lightly that you have to look these things up, that one concession keeps things on the precise side of the spectrum, while some pickups feel sloppy at 10 MPH.
No matter which meaning of the word "hauling" you take, the Tacoma can do a lot more of it now. The adequate 3.4-liter V6 dating back to 1995 gives up its post to a fresh 4.0 V6 from the 4Runner enhanced with VVTi valve timing. It whirs like an industrial fan, but it also has an industrial-grade 282 pounds-feet of torque. The 245 horses don't hurt, either. Passing power in sixth gear actually exists, and magazines have shown it out-accelerating every V6 competitor: 0 to 60 in 7.1! You'll pay for this flexibility with an 18 MPG average, double-whammied since the Tacoma has the only V6 around here to ask for premium fuel. Toyota uses its usual phrasing - fill up with 91 for "improved vehicle performance" - but the point is, you're depriving the engine if you fill up on the cheap stuff. Toyota dialed in a moderate amount of firmness into the brakes, probably to mask the grabiness of the rear drums. It must have worked; the brakes feel fine, and antilock and brake assist are found across the line.
If the thought of a truck with a stick strikes you as peculiar, know that the Tacoma's 6-speed has one of the most easy-to-use shifter-and-clutch combos I've experienced in any vehicle, which makes it easier to forget about the long, dorky throws. And coming as no surprise, Toyota's 5-speed automatic shifts just right, just when you expect. I can't speak for the 5-speed manual or 4-speed auto that come with 4-cylinder Tacomas.
What'll she do? Not counting the Tacoma X-Runner, payloads for the various models range from 1,350 to 1,685 pounds. Transmission choice barely makes a difference (manuals get a slight edge), but going from long bed to short bed gains you about 55 pounds of capacity, and giving up 4WD nets an extra 135. In any case, subtract your body weight for the real number.
Towing rates at 3,500 pounds across all Tacomas, but you can make that jump to 6,500 on V6 models if you get the towing package - a healthy increase over last year's max of 5,000.
The deeper you dig, the more it seems Toyota wants you to forget that this is a truck at all. The design is familiar, yet advanced over last year's Tacoma by integrating components more cohesively instead of the piece-by-piece appearance so common in the 90s. The switches and dials turn with no resistance, most surfaces are padded and the seats are covered in soft, feel-good fabric. Here's one truck unafraid to get in touch with its feminine side.
But femininity is a disease that has spread beneath the fabric, for those seats are so annoyingly soft that you start sinking after half an hour. Also, the net-like cover pattern on our tester (there are four different seat designs) felt like it was leaving an imprint on my back through my T-shirt. ARGH! No complaints with the otherwise good ergonomics. Toyota's standards of sound seem to be rising, enough that upgrading to the subwoofer-enhanced JBL system barely felt like an improvement over the already-ample performance of the standard six-speaker setup that comes on all Access and Double Cabs.
No interior element varies more from Tacoma to Tacoma than back-seat space. Access Cabs (formerly called XtraCabs) come with suicide-style passive doors that don't open until you open the fronts. The little jump seats test the limits of human geometry, forcing everyone to sit 90 degrees upright with legs spread about 180 to clear the front seat. Legroom may look good at a quick glance, but that's because the seat cushion is so truncated. At least the nice, firm padding spares one body part from torture.
Double Cab models raise the ante with four independent doors (all with handles) and a slightly elevated rear seat (still a tad low) that actually has three seatbelts and some angle in its backrest. A nearly-flat floor means minimal foot crowding with three aboard. Overall space and comfort are somewhere in the Corolla vicinity, which still ain't stellar but is enough to get by. In either Access or Double Cab, the back seats (and the passenger seat) fold from people holder to junk shelf, though it's a laborious three-step process.
Way back in the bed, there are plenty of tie-down hooks and a few compartments, and every "TRD" package includes a 400-watt electrical outlet in the right-rear corner. The pre-plasticized floor means less one aftermarket expense for every owner, and the non-locking tailgate is light and easy to close.
So many Tacomas exist, it isn't funny. The price of the highest model ($25,815) is nearly twice that of the lowest ($13,980), and in Toyota fashion, the list of options and packages could fill a phonebook on their own. We'll try to get through this as painlessly as possible.
To start, there are four body styles spread out over three different wheelbases and three overall lengths.
1. Regular Cab with a 6-foot bed. Wheelbase: 110 inches. Length: 190.4 inches.
2. Access Cab with a 6-foot bed. Wheelbase: 127.X inches. Length: 208.1 inches.
3. Double Cab with a 5-foot bed. Wheelbase: 127.X inches. Length: 208.1 inches.
4. Double Cab with a 6-foot bed. Wheelbase: 140.9 inches. Length: 221.3 inches.
Regular Cabs, being widely ostracized as stripper models these days, do not get V6 access. They can get 4WD, but only with a stickshift; 2WD only comes with automatic.
On Access Cabs, the basic 2WD model can get either transmission but is stuck with the 4-cylinder. However, a V6 is optional on the 2WD "PreRunner" model (basically, a rear-drive Tacoma using a body kit and extra ground clearance to pose as a 4WD Tacoma), though it's automatic only. Real 4WD models are treated the same way. This body style serves as the sole form of the Tacoma X-Runner, a special V6 2WD model that adds a rear stabilizer bar and sits lower to the ground (7.5 inches of ground clearance, instead of the standard 8.1, or the 9.5 of PreRunner and 4WD) on 18-inch wheels.
On Double Cabs, whether it's Short Bed or Long Bed, the V6 is standard and there's a free choice of 2WD/4WD. Only one limitation here: the Long Bed is automatic-only.
Let's assume typical customers want 2WD, V6, and an automatic in their Tacomas. That gets us stuck with PreRunner trim, but oh well. For an Access Cab, a Double Cab Short Bed, and a Double Cab Long Bed, MSRPs start at $20,490, $22,240, and $22,740. Even with that last one, there are two convenience packages, four lettered option packages, two sport packages, four SR5 packages, three utility packages, and 11 different wheel upgrades. Across the Tacoma line, there are also four different tire sizes, three stereos, two completely different TRD packages, and a truckload of other stuff. Just for fun, I tried checking off every box to see if I could load up a Tacoma to $45,000. Depressingly, I succeeded.
If it were me, I'd take an Access Cab, PreRunner, 2WD, V6, automatic Tacoma, add stability + traction control (exclusive to certain trims) for $650 and SR5 Package #5 (sliding rear window, power windows/locks/mirrors, keyless entry, cruise control, 16-inch alloys, lumbar support) for $2,635. That leaves me with a $23,775 Tacoma. I would pay $650 for side and curtain air bags, but only Double Cab shoppers can get those.
That's still nearly a grand more than what I'd have to pay for a top-of-the-line Nissan Frontier King Cab LE, and more like two grand over an optioned-up Chevrolet Colorado 5-cylinder automatic extended cab, though the latter is a less capable truck.
The Tacoma may be a chore to configure and a pain to pay for, but once out of the showroom, you'd be living with one of the fastest, friendliest, most capable, and longest-lasting of the new breed of pickups. Just put in some real seats and let me fill up with regular gas, please.
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