Detroit —  With roads under four inches of snow one morning this winter, traffic stopped on hilly Franklin Road as a front-wheel-drive Nissan Altima struggled to climb an icy slope in front of me. The driver finally gave up, turning around in search of a different route. I kept on truckin’.

On Gilbert Lake Road, an all-wheel-drive Lexus NX crawled along at 12 mph in the white stuff before pulling into a driveway. I kept on truckin’.

Henry Payne, The Detroit News

Waiting to enter Telegraph Road at a red light, I was joined on the right shoulder by a Volvo SUV that had obnoxiously jumped the line behind me to be first onto Telegraph —  and first into the far-left Telegraph lane to make the Michigan turn south. Some people. The light turned, the Volvo driver nailed the throttle, the Volvo’s tires spun in place while I … kept on truckin’.

It’s good to be behind the wheel of a 2025 Toyota 4Runner.

While not officially a truck, the $43K 4Runner is one of three SUVs that Toyota makes based on its rugged, midsized Mexican-made Tacoma pickup. Like the Taco, 4Runner gives you the confidence to go just about anywhere.

With 8.8-10.1 inches of ground clearance and 18-33 inches of approach angle (depending on trim; my posh Limited tester clocked in at 8.8/18 inches), 4Runner has similar capabilities to the Tacoma so I could take on:

1) Michigan winter

2) Detroit potholes

3) Holly Oaks ORV Park, or

4) Towing a 6,000-pound boat

Same goes for the $66K Lexus GX (which I attacked Holly Oaks with last year)  and the $58K Toyota Land Cruiser (which I flogged all across northern Michigan). That’s an impressive toybox aimed at adventure-focused Detroit SUV icons like the Jeep Wrangler and Ford Bronco.

Curiously, it’s a market that General Motors Co. has missed as it focused on going electric with its Chevrolet and Cadillac brands. So Toyota has flooded the zone with plenty of Jeep/Ford competitors. GX is a premium off-roader. Land Cruiser a Land Rover Defender with a Japanese accent.

But the butch 4Runner is legend.

With its grizzled looks, climb-Mount-Rushmore attitude and bulletproof reputation, 4Runner’s built a cult following —  from the Holly Oaks ORV Park-assaulting Michigan 4Runner Group to my 55-year old friend John, who still carries a torch for 4Runner since he put 150,000 miles on one as a young college grad.

John was eager to check out the all-new, sixth-generation 4Runner in my driveway. Boy, has it changed.

Like the new Tacoma pickup, the 2025 4Runner has matured into more than just a reliable Toyota tool. This ute has style.

The exterior maintains its macho looks with signature truck-like elements like bold presence, bulging fenders and bulldog grille. It looks like a grownup’s LEGO toy.

But the interior has been transformed. It echoes the exterior’s LEGO theme with a chunky, horizontal dash, climate/volume knobs the size of your fist, and a giant “Oh, crap!” handle for Mrs. Payne to hold onto when her husband takes a detour to Holly Oaks.

Plugged into this LEGO landscape are a modern digital instrument display and eight- or 14-inch tablet touchscreens. Toyota has lagged digital leaders Ford and Hyundai, but it makes up a lot of ground with its new pickup-based utes.

“Tune to 950 AM,” I barked during the snowstorm to get the latest weather report. Whereas previous Toyotas had worse hearing than a 90-year old uncle, 4Runner understood and instantly brought up the AM station.

Most of the time, however, I used Android Auto, which Toyota has finally embraced (along with Apple CarPlay). I navigated effortlessly to Detroit Metro Airport on Google Maps, my Android phone docked on the wireless charger to maintain juice.

John loved it.

“It really carries the pickup’s macho look,” said the ex-football player. He was also happy to see signature elements like the roll-down tailgate window (for easy cargo access) had carried over to the latest gen. Thanks to 4Runner’s deep exhaust growl, he didn’t notice the Toyota had ditched the old nail, V-6 engine for a sippier, 278-horsepower, turbocharged 4-cyinder. GRRRRR!!!

4Runner options a 326-horse, hybrid 4-banger with similar fuel economy. But even macho males want a smooth ride, and John marveled at the sixth gen’s other big leap: drivability.

Truck-based SUVs are prone to handling like, well, trucks. But Toyota has done extensive suspension work for the 4Runner, and it sauntered smoothly around town. Like Bronco, its independent front suspension makes for good road manners while not sacrificing off-road capability.

My Limited tester was loaded to the gills with features including sunroof, automatic side steps (thank you, said wee Mrs. Payne), memory seats, third-row seats and automatic AWD with two-speed transfer case that sensed travel conditions. You don’t need to spend $62K to get a fully capable 4Runner, thanks to Toyota’s generous suite of Toyota Safety Sense features.

Purchase a base SR5 4Runner and you get blind-spot assist, adaptive cruse control, auto high-beams, blackout package and a refrigerator (kidding about the last one). Opt for AWD ($2,000) and my favorite Ice Cap white paint job ($0) and you’ll look like a battle-ready Star Wars stormtrooper.

For my money, I’d opt for the $57,265 TRD Off-Road Premium model to add all-terrain tires to the mix as well as a spare tire and faux-leather seats for long drives. But a base $46,495 SR5 gets you plenty (and a set of aftermarket all-terrain tires is just $1,200).

Speaking of long drives, a pickup-based SUV has its drawbacks. Most noticeably in the hind quarters.

With a solid rear axle, the 4Runner’s third-row seats have no leg well, so only your tiniest family members will find them habitable. Second-row seats, too, are compromised and less roomy than in the unibody-based Toyota RAV4.

For all its interior advances, Toyota still lags in driver ergonomics compared to Detroit makers like Chevrolet and its steering wheel of ACC and volume rocker buttons — plus radio controls on the back of the wheel. Clever. Thanks to the meaty 4Runner knob, however, my fingers could tune the radio in the dark and ACC gets a rocker button.

Elsewhere, attention to detail is commendable —  for example, the three cupholders in the door.

Four inches of snow? 4Cheers 4The 4Runner.

2025 Toyota 4Runner

Vehicle type: Gas and gas-electric hybrid-powered, rear- and four-wheel-drive, five-passenger SUV

Price: $42,765, including $1,495 destination charge ($62,875 Limited model as tested)

Powerplant: 2.4-liter, turbocharged inline 4-cylinder; 2.4-liter, turbocharged inline 4-cylinder paired with electric motor (hybrid)

Transmission: Eight-speed automatic

Power: 278 horsepower, 317 pound-feet torque; 326 horsepower, 465 pound-feet torque (hybrid)

Performance: 0-60 mph, 7.5 sec. (Car and Driver); towing, 6,000 pounds

Weight: 4,970 pounds (as tested)

Fuel economy: EPA est. 20 city/24 highway/21 combined (4WD turbo-4); 23 city/24 highway/23 combined (4WD turbo-4 hybrid); range, 456 miles (4WD turbo-4)

Report card

Highs: 4WD toughness; stylish, LEGO-block interior

Lows: Ergonomics still lag class leaders; tight second row

Overall: 4 stars

Henry Payne is auto critic for The Detroit News. Find him at hpayne@detroitnews.com or @HenryEPayne.

Braselton, Georgia — The bad news is the manual transmission is an endangered species these days as emissions regulations and electric vehicles have shrunk the options for American enthusiasts. The good news? Americans looooove to row the gearbox compared to their foreign peers (40% of VW GTI sales have been manual, just 5% in Europe), and so performance manufacturers continue to feed our addiction. For the 2025 holiday shopping season, there are 24 manual models available.

I reviewed the best entry-level manual sportscar, the Mazda MX-5 Miata, to open the summer. For Christmas, I present to you the King of the Manuals at the opposite end of the market: the Porsche 911T.

I climbed into the 911T at Lake Lanier to drive to Road Atlanta Raceway for the IMSA Weathertech Series season finale which I was covering for The News. The drive should have required 30 minutes.

It lasted two hours. I took the long way.

Henry Payne, The Detroit News

I blew by EXIT 8 on I-985 that would have taken me to Road Atlanta and headed north for the Route 52 twisties.

GRRRRRRR! I exited the freeway and immediately dialed the DRIVE MODE selector on the steering wheel to SPORT PLUS, deepening the growl from the 388 horses behind me.

VROOOM! I reached for the walnut shifter knob and downshifted from third to second gear — a loud rev match helping seamless cog swap.

Henry Payne, The Detroit News

WAAAUUUURGH! I buried the throttle and disappeared into the Blue Ridge Mountains. I flicked off shifts at the 7,500 RPM redline — THIRD, FOURTH, FIFTH — the rampaging German beast controlled by precise shifts and steering inputs.

I have driven and raced multiple manuals over the years, and few are as precise as a 911. The 911T benefits from the track-focused 911 GT3 RS (with which it shares a gearbox linkage) and I never missed a shift. Shift throws are short, the shift gates predictable, the execution always direct, never rubbery. Assisting this exactitude is a move back to a six-speed gearbox from last generation’s seven-speed experiment. Too many shift gates. The six-speed is killer.

Porsche offers steering-mounted paddle shifters on its entry-level Carrera models, but the stick is the most direct driver’s experience in the business. The $141k 911T is Porsche’s entry-level manual drug with the $160k GT3 the top of the mountain.

Pause, take a deep breath. This is rare air. It’s more than 100 grand above the Miata manual Grand Touring I tested last summer – and more than double that of the OG, modest, $55k (inflation adjusted), 1970 911T my uncle once owned. “Today’s 911 T only knows Modesty as the name of a yacht off the coast of Croatia,” snarks Car and Driver.

This, Enthusiast Nation, is the summit of the manual landscape. No other supercar manufacturer makes a stick shift above it.

If they did, they would be hard-pressed to make a more scintillating experience than the 911T.

Old school the manual may be, it is not immune to the advance of modern electronics. The digital tachometer comes with shift lights so that when I was really rowing the box, I could watch the lights for redline shifts without taking my eyes off the road.

The rev-match feature negates the need for double-clutching (aka, heel-and-toe) — always a fraught experience depending on pedal placement, shoe type and whether you have double-wide, size 15 water skis like me for feet.

The rev match feature makes downshifts more precise, though still not as quick as a paddle-shift car. If it’s raw speed you’re looking for, Porsche’s paddle-driven automatic PDK is your track tool. PDK will do insane, launch-controlled 0-60 mph times. Faster downshifts on corner entry. Quicker acceleration out of apexes.

But if it’s visceral thrills you want, the stick is sublime.

The manual box’s benefits aren’t just in the shifting experience. It tips the scales at 3,316 pounds — a significant 275-pounds less than the 911 GTS T-Hybrid I also tested this year. Weight matters, and the T’s fit physique made it more nimble across the Route 52 switchbacks — maximizing the extraordinary suspension. (Opting for the convertible 911T Cabriolet adds 189 pounds.)

But even Route 52 can’t contain the 911T. So capable is the T that I ran out of road long before I reached the supercar’s envelope. Ya’ gotta’ take it to a track — and, happily for owners, there are plenty of track day opportunities in Michigan at Gingerman Raceway, Grattan, M1 Concourse. Or, if you make occasional trips to Atlanta and don’t want to abuse your own 911T, then sign up for the Porsche Experience (conveniently right next to Atlanta International Airport) and add a half-day to your stay in the Peachtree State.

In addition to racetracks, Atlanta is also renowned for grisly Los Angeles-like traffic, and the 911T proved remarkably well-suited for a two-hour commute from ATL to Breselton. Just be sure not to option the hard-back race seats in my $162,895 test mule which are uncomfortable, incapable of flipping forward, and paired with deleted rear seats. Choose the standard seats, and the 911T is not only comfy, but utilitarian.

A parking attendant rolled his eyes at me when I told him I could get my carry-on, wife’s carry-on, giant tennis bag, laptop case and two shopping bags into the two-door sportscar.

No sweat.

The frunk alone (rear-engine Porsches innovated this neat feature long before Tesla electric vehicles) swallowed my suitcase and the two shopping bags. Then (despite those hardback race seats) I shoved the rest of our luggage aft of the front thrones — the back shelf alone taking on the broad tennis bag. Mrs. Payne and I then managed stop-and-go Atlanta traffic even as the Porsche lacks adaptive cruise control.

So good is the manual, it shifted like butter in traffic.

Porsche interior ergonomics have come a long way from the days when Americans complained about the German’s lack of cupholders. I’m still complaining. The 911 rudely locates its console cupholder right in front of the manual shifter, which makes for awkward shifts when carrying a drink. Fortunately, the doors are equipped with cupholders so I could bypass the console.

My favorite ergonomic feature is the steering wheel scroll wheel (why don’t all manufacturers have these?) so I could scroll numerous features on the digital instrument display — even change it from the classic five Porsche instruments to my preferred, less-cluttered threesome.

Otherwise, interior buttons felt natural. Just like the walnut manual gearshift in my hand. Please, Santa.

Next week: 2026 Toyota 4Runner

2025 Porsche 911T

Vehicle type: Rear-engine, rear-wheel-drive, two-passenger sportscar

Price: $140,795, including $1,995 destination fee ($162,895 as tested)

Powerplant: 3.0-liter flat-6 cylinder

Power: 388 horsepower, 331 pound-feet of torque

Transmission: Six-speed manual

Performance: 0-60 mph, 4.3 seconds (mfr.); top speed, 183 mph

Weight: 3,316 pounds

Fuel economy: EPA, 17 mpg city/25 highway/20 combined

Report card

Highs: Manual shifter from the gods; lightweight athlete

Lows: Console cupholder obstructs shifter; manual, but price out of reach to many

Overall: 4  stars

Henry Payne is auto critic for The Detroit News. Find him at hpayne@detroitnews.com or Twitter @HenryEPayne.

Detroit — The striking, three-row Hyundai Ioniq 9 is an avatar for the electric niche.

I flogged the Ioniq 9 all over Metro Detroit — the 300-mile, natural radius of an EV — as I helped chaperone a racquets tournament and performed daily chores. From its sci-fi, “Blade Runner” exterior to its posh white interior, the Ioniq is dressed to, well, the nines with a serene elegance that is a match for an $80K Lincoln Aviator.

But with real-world range of only 249 miles (80% charge at a fast charger), it cannot match the dexterity of its $50K, gas-powered, 418-mile-range, three-row Hyundai Palisade peer that is a finalist for 2026 North American Utility of the Year. Use your vehicle locally and fly for business/family trips? Are you retired and enjoy relaxed road trips? Wowed by Hyundai’s new, sci-fi image? The Ioniq 9 is a luxury vehicle for you.

Henry Payne, The Detroit News

If you need a more versatile family vehicle, buy a gas-fired Palisade or Aviator.

I tested a $79,540 Ioniq 9 Performance Calligraphy model a week after completing a 15-hour, four-day round trip to Watkins Glen, New York, in a 418-mile-range, gas-powered, $51,110 Palisade XRT Pro. Palisade made the trip with one five-minute drink of fuel. Had I been driving the Ioniq 9, I would have required more than an hour over three charging stops — not to mention more time in the charger-starved Finger Lakes, where neither my hotel nor my destination — Watkins Glen International Raceway — were equipped with 220-volt overnight chargers.

The layouts of the Palisade and Ioniq 9 are the same with roomy, three-row interiors studded with gorgeous dual-screen dashes, comfortable seats, high-tech features and USB-C ports everywhere. Ergonomically thoughtful controls are expertly placed on the steering wheel for ease of use. The shifter alone is a masterpiece that frees up console space by harboring both START button and gear selector.

Then Ioniq 9 adds another $30K of sweets.

Henry Payne, The Detroit News

Think white leather that wraps the interior like icing on a wedding cake. White steering wheel, white seats, white console. The duo-tone interior is trimmed with gray bits: for example, seatbacks split by a line up the middle. Silver bezels and door handles are tastefully placed ‘round the cabin for added decoration. The interior reminded me of a Lincoln Aviator I piloted in 2020, which boasted similar interior appointments from a brand synonymous with quiet luxury.

“This is niiiice,” said a visiting racquets player slipping into the Ioniq 9’s second row. My third-row passenger was not as impressed, especially when I fumbled the controls.

“I’m getting crushed!” he said as I mistakenly pressed the automatic rear seat button to fold the rear seat (with him in it) into the floor. Sometimes a simple pull-loop in the seatback works better. And quicker.

Once their chauffeur (me) had figured out the controls, five passengers arrived at Adaline Restaurant on Woodward in quiet luxury. Ioniq 9’s electric drivetrain is a treat in stop-and-go urban environment.

Henry Payne, The Detroit News

Heading down Jefferson Avenue, my 5,900-pound chariot squirted ahead of traffic to make a Michigan Turn. “IndyCars go 180 mph down these west-bound Jefferson lanes at the Detroit Grand Prix,” I informed my guests.

Ioniq 9 won’t go that quick, but its 4.4-second vault to 60 mph is impressive for a three-ton ute. Better yet, the power it delivered was linear, quiet, mannered. No gear shifts, no downshift hiccups from a multi-speed transmission. The Hyundai does have steering wheel paddles — but they are to adjust electric motor regenerative braking, not gear shifts. I preferred Level 4 regen (to the harsher MAX setting), which allowed the SUV to slow to a stop without me ever touching the brake.

“That was a smooth ride,” commented a passenger, emerging to take a slow walk around the car curbside.

I first saw the Ioniq 9 at the famed Goldstein House overlooking Beverly Hills at its November 2024 Los Angeles Auto Show debut. A distinctive architecture for a distinctive car. The Ioniq 9 is no less a standout in downtown Detroit traffic. That “Blade Runner” rear is its signature, but the fascia is memorable for its wraparound headlights punctuated by pixel LED blocks and vertical, pixel-block headlights.

Sitting on big, 21-inch, low-profile wheels, it’s more space age than the handsome, rugged design of its sister Palisade XRT Pro, which drives on high-profile, all-terrain tires.

Ioniq 9 is a Concorde, the Palisade a Boeing 737 airliner. And not just because Ioniq is more posh.

Yes, it’s spectacularly outfitted with luxuries like self-park assist, automatic panoramic roof, head-up display and programmable massaging seats. But it’s also oddly fragile due to the limits of EVs.

I have two chargers in my garage: a NACS charger for Tesla and a Juicebox J1772 connector for everything else. The NACS-equipped Hyundai should be able to charge on both (a J1772 connector is in the trunk). The Ioniq 9 worked on the Juicebox with the adapter, but not the Tesla charger, because it wasn’t a current-generation NACS.

Unlike just a few years ago, there are chargers everywhere in Oakland County. But the charger world has a language all its own.

When I searched for a nearby charger in the Ioniq 9’s screen, a blizzard of options came up from 350 kW to 150 kW to 50 kW at multiple locations. With a packed schedule, I didn’t have time to wait at an occupied charger (unlike a gas pump where customers cycle through in minutes). Helpfully, Ioniq 9’s software showed me the number of charging stalls at each location. I picked the one with the most (four, at a BP gas station in Southfield) — compared to a closer, smaller charger at a Ford dealer.

Upon arrival, I discovered the BP actually had eight charging stalls. Only one was occupied, and I plugged in for 25 minutes to go from 22% of charge to 80%. That is 63 miles to 277 miles — a top-up that would take three minutes in a gas car.

I used the 25 minutes to shop for a newspaper, buy Snapple and check email.

The cost for this inconvenience was 49 cents per kWh, which is about the same cost for 214 miles ($35) of regular gas at $3.10 a gallon. But it takes five times longer. That inconvenience multiplies on road trips.

The trip to Watkins Glen? It would take 1.25 hours longer than a gas-powered Palisade (or comparably priced Lincoln Aviator). Not to mention anxiety upon arrival about where to charge or how weather conditions might affect range.

No wonder Lincoln has scaled back its plans to go all-electric and instead is making the three-row, V6-powered, 480-mile-range, instant-fill-up Aviator.

The Korean automaker, on the other hand, is determined to change its image. Gas-powered Palisade or luxe Ioniq 9 EV?

Next week: All I want for Christmas is a manual Porsche 911

2026 Hyundai Ioniq 9

Vehicle type: Battery-powered, rear or all-wheel-drive, six-or-seven-passenger SUV

Price: $60,555, including $1,600 destination fee ($79,540 Sport 3 AWD as tested)

Powerplant: 110.3 kWh lithium-ion battery with single rear or dual electric-motor drive

Power: 215-422 horsepower, 258-516 pound-feet torque (422 horsepower, 516 torque as tested)

Transmission: Single-speed direct drive

Performance: 0-60 mph, 4.4 seconds (Car and Driver); top speed, 129 mph; towing, up to 5,000 pounds

Weight: 6,034 pounds (as tested)

Fuel economy: EPA MPGe 85-92; range, 311 (AWD) to 335 (RWD) miles

Report card

Highs: Sci-fi design, acceleration, Tesla-like NACS charging port

Lows: ICE peer sports similar tech, better range; NACS doesn’t work on all Tesla chargers

Overall: 3 stars

Henry Payne is auto critic for The Detroit News. Find him at hpayne@detroitnews.com or @HenryEPayne.