Stratford, Virginia — If I had pulled up to the Lee family home in 1776 in a Tesla Cybertruck, they would have thought I was a time traveler from the future.

Which is not much different than the reaction I received when I pulled up in 2025.

I took a Cybertruck on a weekend trip with Mrs. Payne this fall to help prepare Stratford Hall, the historic home of signers Richard Henry Lee and Francis Lightfoot Lee, for next year’s 250^th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. Our Turo rental was mobbed by Stratford volunteers, staffers and board members as if I had driven onto campus in a Tron Light Cycle.

If the Ford F-150 is America’s best-selling pickup, then Cybertruck is its most famous. Six years after its wild Silicon Valley introduction, the electric pickup still creates a buzz.

From its radical shape to its face-flattening speed to its self-driving capabilities, Cybertruck is a celebrity that looks like it rolled off a sci-fi movie set. Bladerunner, Tron, Mad Max — take your pick. When I wasn’t giving thrill rides to just about everyone on the 1,800-acre Stratford farm, the truck was proving itself a useful Swiss army knife hauling cargo.

It is still a rarity — particularly in places like rural Virginia, where full-size work trucks are everywhere — with its rich, $82K starting price and propensity to attract domestic terrorists who want to blow it up. I was encouraged by the truck’s enthusiastic reception, a promising sign the furries have moved on to other targets. Still, the truck’s high price and sluggish sales are surely a disappointment to Tesla.

With Cybertruck, CEO Elon Musk was determined to jump-start the EV revolution in the market’s highest-volume segment. But the high price of batteries — and their inherent towing limitations — has kept Cybertruck (and other EV pickups) from competing in mass-volume, $40K truck business fleets.

Cybertruck competes against premium, country-club trucks like the Ford F-150 Raptor, Ram 1500 RHO, Chevy Silverado High Country, GMC Hummer EV and Ford Lightning Platinum EV.

In truth Cybertruck is a class of one, the most radical vehicle of the 21^st century.

Begin with its polarizing design. Everyone has an opinion. The truck’s militaristic vibe skews male, but female reactions were all over the map.

Very futuristic.

It’s ugly.

Can you take a picture of me with the Tesla so I can share with my kids?

Where’s the machine gun turret?

I’ve driven Tesla’s distinctive model lineup extensively, and Cybertruck’s design is the most extreme. Yet, once inside, I was reminded how similar its operation is to its siblings. iPhone simple aesthetics. Horizontal lines. Mono-screen housing most controls: mirror/steering position, climate controls, even shifting.

To a non-Tesla user, it’s an alien landscape.

Exiting Metro D.C.’s Reagan National Airport, I barked my destination to the truck — “Navigate to Tesla Supercharger in King George, Virginia” — then didn’t touch the wheel for the next 48 miles. As I tuned Sirius XM stations, Cybertruck drove itself through D.C. traffic, the I-495 Beltway and Maryland routes 210 and 301 before exiting to fill up on electrons for the weekend ahead.

The FSD (Full Self Driving) system has made steady strides since its 2020 introduction. The truck slowed down to avoid a rogue trash can in the road and executed round-abouts with aplomb. On other occasions it maneuvered uncomfortably close to other vehicles, a reminder FSD still needs a chaperone.

Hands-free driving and stainless-steel skin just scratch the surface of its ambitions. Cybertruck’s also the first vehicle to market with variable electronic steering. Together with all-wheel steer, it makes the 19-foot-long beast feel smaller than it is.

Once Cybertruck had delivered me to the Supercharger in a Sheetz lot, I needed minimal steering input to maneuver it in place next to the charging stalls. The truck ID’d an open space, then backed itself in. Whoa. Not so “whoa” are Tesla charging cables designed for compact Model 3 and Model Ys — not Cybertruck ocean liners. The cord just reached the left-rear-fender-mounted NACS port.

Twenty-five minutes later, I exited onto rural-lanes roads with 80% battery capacity. Enough self-driving. Time to wring the truck’s neck over the twisted roads of Virginia’s Northern Neck.

ZOT!

Cybertruck blew by a line of traffic on two-lane Route 3 in the blink of an eye. Car and Driver recorded the 6,634-pound Cybertruck hitting 60 mph in just 3.9 seconds (the same as a 3,241-pound Porsche Cayman GTS, for goodness sake). On a narrow secondary road, it felt like warp speed.

That precise variable steering and adaptive shocks helped keep Cyberrocket grounded. But with all-terrain tires and air suspension, the Tesla’s natural habitat is off-road. Perfect for Stratford farm’s endless fields (or Detroit’s pocked streets).

I stopped at a Marathon service station outside Stratford and loaded the pickup’s cooler with ice. Cooler?

Tesla is synonymous with frunks (front trunk) and Cybertruck is no exception. But Tesla also sports a substantial, sub-bed locker space.

I emptied four bags of ice and only filled it halfway. Throw in a case of bottled water and I was a rolling fridge for thirsty Stratford staff.

Cybertruck’s six-foot bed is also unorthodox with its sloped panels. They make it difficult to load from the sides, but twin 110-volt plugs and a 240-volt plug are a tailgate party’s friend. The automatic tonneau cover is a welcome innovation for inclement fall weather. As I hauled beverage cases and event signage, protecting my cargo from a sudden change in weather was as simple as pressing the screen’s tonneau cover button.

I crisscrossed the farm’s dirt roads and grassy fields. Giant Pirelli Scorpion all-terrains are complemented by an air suspension so I could hike Cybertruck’s steel skirts to 16 inches off the ground. Shred a tire and it will cost (cough) $529 to replace. On the other hand, Stratford’s landscape chief Matt Peterschmidt approved of the simple drop-gate compared to competitor’s multi-action contraptions.

“Tailgates are the first thing to fail on a pickup,” he smiled.

In the middle of a field, I asked the truck to self-drive back to the main house and, remarkably, it found the fence opening and got to the main road.

At weekend’s end, I headed back to D.C., the truck’s 320-mile range proving accurate (I got 98% of predicted range) despite my heavy left foot.

Turo required the Tesla be returned with 80% battery range, which exposed the EV’s weakness compared to gas-powered peers: efficiency. Tesla’s Supercharger network was accessible — even in rural Virginia — but charging back to 88% (at the closest charger to the airport) from 32% added 40 minutes to my 90-minute journey. Cost? At 44 cents-per-kWh, the same as $2.75-a-gallon gas in an 18-mpg F-150 Raptor.

While it may look like it came from Mars, Cybertruck proved right at home at the historic preserve. Heck, in 1776 — after the shock wore off — the Lees probably would have adopted it for use in the American Revolution. After all, its stainless-steel skin is bulletproof.

Next week: 2026 Nissan Sentra

2025 Tesla Cybertruck

Vehicle type: All-wheel-drive, five-passenger pickup

Price: Base $82,235, including $1,995 destination charge ($90,235 with FSD as tested)

Powerplant: 123 kWh lithium-ion battery pack mated to dual electric motors

Power: 593 horsepower, 525 pound-feet of torque

Transmission: Single-speed automatic

Performance: 0-60 mph, 3.9 seconds (Car and Driver); towing, 11,000 pounds

Weight: 6,634 pounds

Range: 320 miles on full charge

Report card

Highs: King of the Road; FSD OMG

Lows: Polarizing styling; $$$$

Overall: 4 stars

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

Portland, Oregon — The Forester used to be vanilla in Subaru’s delicious store of off-road flavors. No more.

My white 2026 Forester Wilderness swaggered up to the foothills of the Cascade Mountains sporting a chocolate grille, syrup-black hood decal, bold lines, chiseled rocker panels and sinewy Yokohama Geolander all-terrain tires.

Forester Vanilla just got a healthy shot of Chunky Monkey.

Henry Payne, The Detroit News

I nailed the throttle and the rugged ‘Ru clawed up a dirt trail flinging chocolate chips — er, gravel — behind it. To my right the trail was bordered by a sheer drop into the valley below. Forester dispelled my acrophobia. Geolander A/Ts gripped the slippery surface and we charged on while drinking in the breathtaking view.

Along with Jeep, Subaru pioneered the off-road SUV space with standard all-wheel-drive machines that can go anywhere all the time. That fundamental goodness has won over generations of fans who confess undying loyalty to ‘Ru even as other brands have begun to crowd the shelves with their own affordable off-road flavors. Badges like Toyota RAV-4 TRD, Honda CR-V TrailSport, Mazda CX-50 Meridian, Nissan Rogue Rock Creek, and, most significantly, Ford Bronco Sport Badlands.

Bronco Jr. has stomped into the segment sporting Ford’s full off-road arsenal: all-terrain tires, ubiquitous storage cubbies, sub-rear-seat storage, twin-bicycle-friendly cargo bay, twin-rear clutch packs, and a 250-horse turbo-4 mill. Go to the head of the class, Sport.

Curiously, the Jeep Cherokee didn’t show up for the popular compact segment in model years 2024-25 — and Forester Wilderness is jumping in with all fours.

If the subcompact Crosstrek looks like a running shoe and the midsize Outback is a hiking boot, the Forester has been a … shoebox.

Square, tall and roomy, it lacked the personality of its teammates even as it offered excellent all-season utility, interior ergonomics, even a sippy hybrid model. The Wilderness edition brings the wardrobe to match its off-road capabilities. I mean, just look at those bronze tow hook/roof rail highlights and Wolverine-like front fascia lamb chops that complement its big claws.

Those claws are assisted by a front skid plate to protect the jaw, and a 9.2-inch ride height so I could sail over pointy rocks and splash across creek beds.

Those athletic attributes outside are mirrored with digital tech inside. I kept a window open in the digital instrument display to monitor tire pressure (35 pounds) as I charged across the rocky landscape. Get a flat tire? A handy spare is right underneath the rear hatch.

Never mind off-roading out West; I’d recommend the Forester Wilderness as a daily driver for Metro Detroit, where the always-under-construction roads can feel like the Cascade trails. WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP! How many low-profile wheels have I scarred across Motown’s lunar landscape? Better to have tall-sidewall Geolanders at the ready. WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP!

Inside this little tank, Subaru has created a sanctuary from the mayhem outside.

Product chief Bill Stokes and his Jersey-based elves have outfitted Wolverine with gritty all-terrains that are quiet as a mouse in daily driving. How? By designing a new chassis from the ground up, with the Wilderness bruisers in mind — more welds, isolated wheel wells, cabin soundproofing.

On the way back into Portland from the Cascades — the Forester Wilderness caked with dirt ‘n’ dust — I sat in the back seat while a colleague took the wheel and quickly forgot this was an off-roader while catching up with email and texts.

Forester’s rear couch is palatial, a nice upgrade from Crosstrek, which is no slouch in the subcompact rear-room department. The big difference between the siblings is the front seat, however, as Forester affords a lot more headroom thanks to its upright A-pillar. Crosstrek looks like a running shoe thanks to its sloped S-pillar (as does hatchback cousin Impreza). The compromise is less headroom for giraffes like me.

That explains the Forester shoebox.

Forester Wilderness brings its off-road mission to the interior as well. Door storage is designed with tall water bottles in mind — the door armrests abbreviated so you easily slip in tall flasks. I recently piloted an off-road-focused, $52K Hyundai Palisade XRT-Pro to New York and back and struggled with its shallow door storage.

The Subie’s rear door inserts are similarly thoughtful. For its sixth gen, the center console has been redesigned for better storage: seat heaters are now in the screen, cupholders enlarged, the front phone charger more accessible. That phone charger — standard on all Foresters — is more important than ever as passengers use their phones’ Google Maps to navigate to the far reaches of, say, Oregon. Or Michigan.

Also standard is the 11.5-inch vertical screen, now common to Subies across the lineup. With its big graphics and complementary buttons for volume and climate control, it is easy to navigate. Even better is the steering wheel (highlighted by a bronze insert so you know it’s a Wilderness model), which is smartly designed with raised volume and adaptive cruise controls so you never need take your eye off the road. Or off-road.

This being a performance-focused Forester, Subaru has outfitted it with shift paddles behind the wheel should the droning automatic transmission ever drive you nuts. I found the paddles as useful as shoes for a fish. Armed with 178 pound-feet of torque and 180 horsepower, Forester’s 2.5-liter flat-4 engine has a tall task.

That task includes competing with the Bronco Sport Badlands, which brings significantly more capability. Its shift paddles are actually fun given the Badland’s substantial 280 pound-feet of torque and more sophisticated eight-speed transmission. Feel adventurous? Take the Bronc Jr. to Holly Oaks ORV Park in Holly and it will do doughnuts in the sand thanks to its rear twin clutch pack. Ooooooh.

That’s some serious off-road cred from the Ford. Heck, the Subie’s 180 horses are just enough to keep up with the base Bronc’s 180-horse turbo-3. The Sport Badlands’ 250-horse turbo-4 is in another league.

Which is here the Forester’s upgraded curb appeal is so important. It looks like a proper Subie dirt-kicker to go with its more affordable sticker — a meaningful $2,500 cheaper than the Ford. That, and it tows 800 pounds more than the Ford, expanding the Ru’s demographic. Subaru opened the door to compact SUV off-road capability, and Ford has rushed in. So will the Jeep Cherokee as it returns to market over the next couple of years with a trail-focused variant.

Rugged looks, off-road utility, towing, and … oh, yes, there is one more ‘Ru feature Forester is counting on: reliability. With a top rating from Consumer Reports, it boasts better grades than segment classmates.

Reward that ‘Ru with a Chunky Monkey ice cream.

Next week: Drivin’ the OG 1925 Ford Model T

2026 Subaru Forester Wilderness

Vehicle type: Front-engine, all-wheel-drive, five-passenger SUV

Price: $42,035, including $1,450 destination fee

Powerplant: 2.5-liter inline-4 cylinder

Power: 180 horsepower, 178 pound-feet of torque

Transmission: Continuously-variable automatic

Performance: 0-60 mph, 8.0 seconds est. (Car and Driver); towing, 3,500 pounds

Weight: 3,675 pounds

Fuel economy: EPA, 24 mpg city/28 highway/26 combined; range, 465 miles

Report card

Highs: Rugged looks; appealing interior

Lows: Lacks performance, interior features lag competitors

Overall: 3  stars

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