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2018 GMC Sierra Denali 1500 Drivers' Notes | Chrome cowboy

No matter how much automakers want to charge for trucks, it seems there will be a market. Ford, Ram and GM all have trucks that can push well over $60,000, something that would sound unbelievable even 10 years ago. That brings us to the 2018 GMC Sierra Denali, GM's top dog in the pseudo-lux truck segment. It's packed with tons of goodies and features, but it's starting to feel a little long in the tooth. Still, GM trucks are some of the best selling vehicles in America, so it seems customers don't mind the age. Associate Editor Reese Counts: I've said it before, but I'm not a big truck guy. Give me a Colorado or Tacoma over any of the full-sized behemoths rolling off assembly lines today. Still, I do enjoy taking one home on occasion, especially one as comfortable and well appointed as this Sierra Denali. There's leather and wood and contrasted stitching throughout. The problem is that it's all a veneer over what's becoming an extremely dated truck, though a new one is on the horizon. There's one big thing that truly bothers me about this truck: no keyless entry or ignition. Don't get me wrong, I have no problem doing things the old-fashioned way, but when literally every other competitor at this price has keyless as standard equipment, the fact that GMC (and Chevy for that matter) still require you to pull out a fob and stick a key into an ignition is really glaring. It has to have something to do with the platform, as GM makes plenty of vehicles that don't require a key. One thing that doesn't feel dated is the ride and performance. This truck is equipped with GM's Magnetic Ride Control, and it works wonders for the Sierra's comfort. It would be even better if it wasn't wearing some gaudy 22-inch wheels, but it's still better than a lot of trucks out there. The powertrain, too, is a nice bright spot. The eight-speed automatic is smooth and never feels lost in the hunt for better fuel economy. The 6.2-liter V8 feels strong, and power comes on smooth and easy. Ford's EcoBoosts may win on fuel economy, but there's nothing like a big, burly V8. Senior Editor, Green, John Beltz Snyder: Despite the massive amounts of guilt I feel every time I put my foot to the accelerator, big trucks — something of which I used to steer well clear — are beginning to warm up on me. That being said, others have made more of an impression on me than this Sierra.

2019 GMC Sierra carbon fiber bed: How it's made

FORT WAYNE, Ind. — The redesigned 2019 GMC Sierra has some pretty nifty features, and the one that has had the most attention is the MultiPro flipping and folding tailgate. But the Sierra also features the first-of-its-kind carbon fiber truck bed. It's interesting, of course, for its capabilities, such as being 62 pounds lighter than the all-steel box. It even adds more cargo volume since the material can be assembled and shaped differently from steel. As it turns out, the assembly process is cool, too, which we learned when GMC invited us to see the beds being made. Every GMC carbon fiber bed starts out as perfectly flat sheets of thermoplastic carbon fiber. The sheets consist of a mix of fibers and resins, a bit like the molded carbon fiber parts Lamborghini uses. The sheets are manufactured by Japanese company Teijin, which collaborated with GMC to develop the bed. They're all delivered to Continental Structural Plastics (CSP) in Fort Wayne, Ind., for construction into the actual bed. The company, a subsidiary of Teijin, makes a wide variety of composite and plastic parts for the car industry, including body panels for the C7 Chevy Corvette. The rectangular sheets are cut to shape and stacked up at a giant stamping press. Robots pick up sheets and slide them onto a conveyor that goes into a large oven. The heat softens the parts so they can be stamped. The large primary bed parts such as the base are stamped by CSP's enormous 3,600-ton press, and the smaller ones go through a 1,000-ton press. Each press can do different parts using different stamping dies, and CSP switches between dies to produce different batches of parts. After stamping, the parts roll out mostly ready for assembly, but there are rough edges that are trimmed off by water-jet cutters. These cutting machines also create holes for fasteners and for parts such as tie-down hooks and lights. The stamping process also provides the carbon fiber bed with a unique Easter egg. On the bottom of the base of the bed, there are two words: "Connors Way." This is a tribute to Tim Connors, who was the chief engineer of manufacturing at GM and a strong proponent of the carbon fiber bed. He was tragically killed in a motorcycle crash a few years ago. The words were added to honor him, and they were fortunately approved for production. There are some components to the bed that aren't stamped from the flat sheets of material.

Meet Alex Archer, the engineer behind GM's power-sliding center console

In 2009, a GM manager complained to a 59-year-old GM technician about the hassle of retrieving items from a pickup truck bed after driving shifted the cargo. In two days, the tech had come up with the ideas that, ten years later, would debut as the MultiPro tailgate. The engineering teams kept the tailgate secret in part by hiding mock-ups in a locked storage closet in GM's Vehicle Engineering Center in Warren Michigan for two years. A piece in the Detroit Free Press reveals that another storage closet in Warren would play the same role in a different cloak-and-dagger operation, this time for the power-sliding center console in GM's new full-sized SUVs. During a meeting in early 2017, bosses gave the job of the console's creation to 24-year-old design release engineer Alex Archer, just two years out of Stanford University with a degree in engineering and product design.  This time, the catalyst for the feature was an internal GM think tank called co:lab, where employees suggest ideas. Execs gave Archer the task because "They needed someone willing to ask a lot of questions," her 36-month mandate to produce a six-way console that could be a standard cubby or a gaping maw able to swallow four gallon jugs or hide a secret compartment. Clearly, she succeeded. It took Archer and the team nine months to devise a prototype, another six months to get the green light for production. As with the tailgate, the team working on the console grew to include designers, production engineers, and suppliers. Archer, now 26, shepherded the process, and her name is on the patent. "It took a ton of people, I'm just somebody who stuck with it the whole time," she said. GM like her work well enough to produce the "Day in the Life" segment above, five months before the world would hear about the console. Archer's path to engineering was as unlikely as getting the job for the console. She had entered Stanford with plans to be a doctor. But an innovation class during her freshman year, and a sophomore summer spent helping her grandfather rebuild a 1937 MG engine recharted her course. Her grandfather told her, "You know, you could be an engineer for a car company." Consumer reaction to Archer's work won't be far off, the SUVs slated to hit dealerships soon. Meanwhile, she's busy on something that could be just as intense as the console: Restoring a 1955 Packard Clipper in her garage. Head to Freep to check out the story of Archer and the console. Related Video: