The Yukon ran Florida to Las Vegas to Florida without a hiccup.
Forty eight hours out, gas stops only. Sixty hours back five days later. Deer. Sketchy fuel. Mountain grades. Dust storms. Some cactus encounters. Mostly at 80 where legal. Never flinched. The tires lived too.
200,000 miles on the clock when it left the driveway. A salvage title in the registration folder. A backyard paint job under matte clear that survived a hurricane flyby. Lower control arm replaced with the lowered-truck arm. Mount pulled back into spec with a chain and a palm tree.
It hauled an enclosed trailer. The trailer carried the cargo for the show. The truck carried itself and everything else.
Then a second run. FL-CT-FL, this time with the fam. Mother-in-law's driveway as the destination. One hiccup in middle-of-nowhere New Jersey. The starter tapped out. Roadside trick, kept the engine alive all the way in. Fifty-inch piles of snow met the 4x4 6.2 and the truck treated them like warm butter.
Battle tested, officially. The matte black wrap with the matte red metallic center is up next, matching the paint underneath. Then the trailer in the same livery.
A salvage Yukon, a 20-foot trailer, and 5000 miles
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