2017 GMC Acadia Wants To Rock The Suburbs
The world skipped a beat today as the reveal of one of the most important production vehicles of our time graced the Detroit auto show. The crowd gasped when learning of its 700 lb. weight loss, and the inclusion of its Herculean V-6 sent shock waves—at least for those of us that live in Indiana.
The 2017 GMC Acadia, at first glance, does not seem like the machine to cause such a ruckus. (And, honesty, it didn’t.) But if you, like me, live on the north side of Indianapolis—an area known as the Beverly Hills of the Midwest (at least to those that have never been to Beverly Hills or indeed left the state of Indiana)—the Acadia is a big deal.
A short while ago, I drove my kid to preschool. It’s a 10-minute drive each way, and upon my return, I counted 38 separate Acadia sightings. Five of these occurred prior to leaving my own street.
A few days later I went to my kid’s soccer game. Parking was at a church, because Indiana, and I counted 11 Acadai dueling within my vicinity—including three that were side-by-side, as if they were locked in an intense battle for parental brinkmanship. If Bravo ever chose to create a “Real Housewives Of Indiana,” GMC would make a killing.
My own wife dragged me to a dealership the other day. Her friends on our street rave about their Acadias, and she wanted to see what all the fuss was about: “It has three rows, a decent sized trunk,” she said. “What more do we need?”
I forget my reply, maybe something about how cults recruit new members. We didn’t buy one that day, but I have little doubt an Acadia will one day grace my driveway. After all, I was never much for having kids. Now I have four.
I’ve wondered how the Acadia movement here in the suburbs began. The truth is GMC does no more advertising in this region than anywhere else. We don’t have an abundance of GMC dealerships. What we have is word of mouth, and this speaks of its importance.
Mrs. K speaks to Mrs. C during her hot yoga class. Mrs. K drives an Acadia. Mrs. C thinks it looks pretty, and practical, and convinces Mr. C that they should have one. Mrs. C then gushes to Mrs. E about her new ride, who in turn goes out and buys one as does her neighbor and fellow scrap-booker Mrs. F. Mrs. Z sees the influx of GMCs on her street, and decides that her next rig should be an Acadia too.
Thus, the revolution continues—evolving into this unfathomable, unstoppable force, lining every driveway within a 15-mile radius.
“It’s ‘word of mom’ marketing,” said Rebecca Lindland, senior director, commercial insights at Kelley Blue Book. “They have similar lives, they have similar schedules, they have similar needs. These are probably moms that are young, staying in shape, taking care of themselves. And it looks sporty—appealing to husbands too.”
Rich Latek, GMC’s marketing director, told Yahoo Autos that: “Acadia is coming off its best year ever. We did have it on TV last year…and we really supported it at the local level, with local marketing.” He noted that the Acadia’s best selling region is the northeast, but he’s well aware of pockets like here in the ‘burbs of Indianapolis. “It the best kind of marketing you can have,” he says, “when your neighbors say they love it.”
Outside of these pockets, in mainstream America, the Acadia is little more than an upscale Chevy Traverse. But within them, it rules supreme. It boasts status. It speaks to an underlying level of class, of sophistication. It also still looks more truck-like, square-jawed and linear, unlike the more expensive and curvaceous Buick Enclave.
So I was excited about this 2017 version. As a resident of Acadiaville, I was first in-line for the reveal at today’s Detroit auto show. There wasn’t much of a queue, in fairness, but if northern Indy is anything to go by, that may well soon change.
As for GMC’s new runner, it looks surprisingly masculine, and meaty. It’s a vehicle I’d drive without shame. That whopping 700 lbs. diet is due in part to a significant shrinking of the SUV, both in terms of length and width, squarely placing it in the midsize crossover division.
This, to me, is a problem. The reason suburbanites in my hood flock to the Acadia is its spacious third row and usable trunk (when all three rows are in use). Even the titanic Cadillac Escalade is useless with its third row up, and the fact you can visit Costco with the kids in tow is a big deal around here. Latek, however, says research suggests owners want better maneuverability, and its shrinkage squarely places it in one of the most lucrative segments in the industry.
That aforementioned weight saving, however, grants you 28 mpg on the highway and an estimated 22 in the city, using the standard 2.5-liter motor. The burly 3.6-liter V-6 pushes 310 horsepower, which is perhaps irrelevant to its customer. It may, however, help convince dad that it’s a worthy investment—plus it’ll tow up to 4,000 lbs.
And hey, if you’re prone to forgetting your kids in the backseat, the new Acadia features an alert that shouts at you: “Oi, you Sir with the organic satchel,” it almost certainly doesn’t say. “Forgetting something?”
Those safety features continue while driving, too, with the inclusion of “Low Speed Forward Automatic Braking,” a “Surround Vision camera system,” and “Lane Keep Assist,” among other goodies. An electronically controlled continuous damping system is also available in “Denali” trim, which again, will be like speaking French to most of the crossover’s core clientele.
In all honesty, arriving with optional all-wheel-drive, the 2017 Acadia looks to be a nice improvement—providing that trunk is still usable with the third row up, which upon inspection appears to be doubtful. I, for one, am excited. Like many husbands in the boroughs north of Indy, our ladies’ Acadia affection has left us rather fond of it ourselves. In my case, I’ve never actually driven an Acadia. Perhaps this will be the first.
And remember: Crazes start off small, forming in inconspicuous areas. Perhaps this new Acadia will be the catalyst, the one that launches it into the mainstream. Remember planking? That began in a small colony in Australia, before crossing the ocean and plaguing the world. It was massive—everybody planked. That is, until we realized it was dumb.
