People of Jalopnik, I have sold my Hummer. Yes, that’s right: my giant, slow, loud, gas-guzzling, unreliable behemoth of a Hummer is now officially someone else’s problem. I am ecstatic, as is the Southeastern Pennsylvania office of the Environmental Protection Agency.
Multi-country military team NATO is in the middle of a mock-war right now called “Trident Juncture.” Air, sea and land vehicles were all looking totally badass on this beach-storming mission until it was time to roll out the Humvees, which immediately got bogged.
I recently spent an afternoon mired in the kind of fear that only really comes when you believe you’re staring down the barrel of certain death. It happened a few weeks ago, when I took my Hummer off-roading with a Jalopnik reader named Phil.
Have you ever wanted to test the drag racing capabilities of an 8,000-pound vehicle that’s shaped like a file cabinet? I have. And that’s how my friend Matt and I ended up spending last Tuesday night drag racing my Hummer at Atco Raceway in suburban New Jersey.
I recently took my Hummer to CarMax for an appraisal, which was carried out by several helpful, perky CarMax employees who clearly thought I was certifiably insane.
When you own an original Hummer, you get a lot of questions. Why is it so big? Why do you need a vehicle like this? Do you have any regard for the environment? Are you a complete idiot? Well today, you’re in for a treat, because I’ve decided to ignore all of these pressing issues and instead tell you how I get my…
I recently had the opportunity to take my Hummer to New York City. This was a highly unusual experience, and it felt a lot like showing up at the dog park with an elephant. First, you want to play with everyone else. But then, you realize you might accidentally crush them.
My Hummer recently caused me great embarrassment and shame. This is in addition to the great embarrassment and shame that you already get from merely owning a Hummer.
General Motors announced the recall of 196,379 Hummers for fire risk. Three people suffered minor burns due to the issue, and GM said earlier today those were the only fires related to the issue. Now it’s come out that 42 fires have been reported.
I recently had the opportunity to find out what random strangers on the street think about my Hummer. I did this from a safe distance, observing through a lens, like a field biologist trying to assess zebra mating patterns.
I was so excited when Doug DeMuro invited me to off-road his Hummer! Of course when I got to his house; “Hah, no, I’m not paying for gas to drive all the way to the woods. Don’t worry. I got some fun roads for you to try.” ...I should seen the red flags right there.
Whenever new people find out that I have a Hummer, they always ask roughly the same question. First they’re surprised, and then they compose themselves a little, and then they say: What kind of gas mileage do you get? Of course, what they’re really thinking is: What kind of an asshole are you?
A few weeks ago, I got an e-mail from a racing instructor named Ron, asking if I wanted to get some track time in my Nissan Skyline GT-R. So I pondered Ron’s question for several minutes, and I really thought about it, and then a light bulb went off in my head. And this is how I ended up on a race track with a…
I recently let 20 of my friends drive my enormous, military-style Hummer through a city that was designed back when the Clydesdale was the largest form of transportation. It was great.
I’ve decided to devote today’s column to answering a pressing question that many of you have no doubt been asking: what if I live in the middle of a large, crowded, major city, but my automobile of choice is an enormous, gas-guzzling military vehicle?
I recently became acquainted with one of my neighbors. Actually, “acquainted” isn’t really the right term. More like: “anonymously berated for owning and operating a giant yellow Hummer.”
As many of you know, I recently purchased a Hummer. And not one of those H2 or H3 knock-off Hummers that are owned by people who wear football jerseys to church. I mean the hardcore, military-style, original Hummer, which shares its overall aerodynamic profile with a state map of Utah.
I recently had the opportunity to drive an original Mini back-to-back with my original Hummer. This was a very unusual experience, and it felt a lot like that scene in Castaway where Tom Hanks is floating through the ocean on a raft made of sticks until he's rescued by a cargo ship the size of greater Baltimore.