A Cinderella story? 2017 Toyota Tundra Limited Double Cab TRD

The Toyota Tundra, despite its Titletown-friendly name, doesn’t out-play rivals — and you won’t see many used for tailgating at Lambeau Field.

The Tundra is behind the times. The separate key and remote fob are clues this machine is late to the game.

Instead, go with TRD — Toyota Racing Development models — and you’ll get a large off-road bomber with underbody skid plates. Its altitude elevates your attitude. Drivers can tune the Sirius radio to Willie Nelson Roadhouse for Merle Haggard’s “Chase” or Patsy Cline’s “I Fall to Pieces.” They can ditch loafers for cowboy boots — I donned my scorpion-flouting Noconas for the test drive.

Climb up, watch your head (especially in the rear) and watch your knees or else you’ll bump the lower dashboard. 

Twist the ignition switch and a 381-hp, 5.7-liter V-8 lights. It’s hoarse-sounding in everyday use. It's docile when routing power to the rear wheels via the 6-speed automatic transmission. 

The Tundra’s engine power and build are capable of pulling 10,500 pounds.

On the road, the Bilstein gas shocks keep the 20-inch wheels and Michelin 275/55 tires pounding the pavement. Trekking on secondary roads is a wrestling match of rubbery kicks. When Wisconsin roads get angry, the TRD gallops, bounds and kicks hard enough to lock the seat belts. 

The hydraulic power steering isn’t precise — it doesn’t self-center well. Thus, Toyota’s beast requires much lane-keeping attention. 

Cornering is safe but uninspired as steering effort drops off the center, while the front tires cry uncle.

Due to the pickup’s ponderous behavior, the sway alert, blind spot detection and lane-departure warning are desirable. 

Drivers can select traction — 2wd, 4wd high and 4wd low. Four-wheeling works, when terrain or road toppings permit. 

While this Toyota is on-road mediocre, off-roading is a hoot. Its bailiwick is dirt, construction sites and gravel.

The EPA estimates miles per gallon at 13 in the city, 17 on the highway and 15 combined. I registered 17 mpg. Filling the 38-gallon tank is expensive, but the range is good. 

The EPA says the Tundra costs $5,250 more in five-year fuel costs than an average new vehicle. 

The truck gets five out of 10 for smog score and two in the greenhouse-gas rating — i.e., 6.7 gallons burned per 100 miles. This flexible-fuel vehicle can drink E85 — 85 percent ethanol blend — or regular gas.

The interior

“Less accommodating” describes the interior. 

Drivers don’t get an assist handle — but they could use one. 

This rig’s interior sports two stuffed-till-firm leather-clad, power heated front chairs. You sit on them rather than in them. 

There’s a huge center console bin with a padded top. The console-mounted shifter is a bonus — it’s handy, but you must contend with a clunky lever-gate maze.

An assortment of interior bits resembles Wisconsin gerrymandering more than a capable cockpit. Front doors have upholstered bits and soft armrests.

The steering wheel is leather-clad. Six bright-ring instruments provide accurate info — the oil pressure gauge, for example, points higher at low temps or high rpm. That’s correct. 

Entune Premium Audio with navigation has two knobs. They promise simplicity but don’t deliver. You must tap app, OK, radio and band in order to tune. 

Other switches and knobs are handy. 

Headlight height, cargo-bed illumination and trailer-brake level controls are placed too low. However, you can adjust your equestrian-toting device’s brakes before hitting the roadway. 

Behind the forward seats, there’s a split-fold padded rear pew. It’s adult adequate, but the center spot bulges too much for back comfort and sides lack thigh support. 

A sliding rear window permits bed access.

In back, the double-wall cargo bed includes several tie-down options. You can remove the easy-drop tailgate — ideal for fifth-wheel towing. 

I intended to load the Tundra’s bed with garage-door lumber. The plywood panels, however, fit in the rear cab, and I stuffed my work garb and ropes in an under-seat bin.

As pickups go, the Tundra needs further refinement, but the truck’s reliability is good. Should this step-up pickup skip the big game and head for an off-track cowboy shindig, it’s suitable. The MSRP is a modest $42,330.

The Toyota Tundra, despite its Titletown-friendly name, doesn’t out-play rivals — and you won’t see many used for tailgating at Lambeau Field.

The Tundra is behind the times. The separate key and remote fob are clues this machine is late to the game.

Instead, go with TRD — Toyota Racing Development models — and you’ll get a large off-road bomber with underbody skid plates. Its altitude elevates your attitude. Drivers can tune the Sirius radio to Willie Nelson Roadhouse for Merle Haggard’s “Chase” or Patsy Cline’s “I Fall to Pieces.” They can ditch loafers for cowboy boots — I donned my scorpion-flouting Noconas for the test drive.

Climb up, watch your head (especially in the rear) and watch your knees or else you’ll bump the lower dashboard. 

Twist the ignition switch and a 381-hp, 5.7-liter V-8 lights. It’s hoarse-sounding in everyday use. It's docile when routing power to the rear wheels via the 6-speed automatic transmission. 

The Tundra’s engine power and build are capable of pulling 10,500 pounds.

On the road, the Bilstein gas shocks keep the 20-inch wheels and Michelin 275/55 tires pounding the pavement. Trekking on secondary roads is a wrestling match of rubbery kicks. When Wisconsin roads get angry, the TRD gallops, bounds and kicks hard enough to lock the seat belts. 

The hydraulic power steering isn’t precise — it doesn’t self-center well. Thus, Toyota’s beast requires much lane-keeping attention. 

Cornering is safe but uninspired as steering effort drops off the center, while the front tires cry uncle.

Due to the pickup’s ponderous behavior, the sway alert, blind spot detection and lane-departure warning are desirable. 

Drivers can select traction — 2wd, 4wd high and 4wd low. Four-wheeling works, when terrain or road toppings permit. 

While this Toyota is on-road mediocre, off-roading is a hoot. Its bailiwick is dirt, construction sites and gravel.

The EPA estimates miles per gallon at 13 in the city, 17 on the highway and 15 combined. I registered 17 mpg. Filling the 38-gallon tank is expensive, but the range is good. 

The EPA says the Tundra costs $5,250 more in five-year fuel costs than an average new vehicle. 

The truck gets five out of 10 for smog score and two in the greenhouse-gas rating — i.e., 6.7 gallons burned per 100 miles. This flexible-fuel vehicle can drink E85 — 85 percent ethanol blend — or regular gas.

The interior

“Less accommodating” describes the interior. 

Drivers don’t get an assist handle — but they could use one. 

This rig’s interior sports two stuffed-till-firm leather-clad, power heated front chairs. You sit on them rather than in them. 

There’s a huge center console bin with a padded top. The console-mounted shifter is a bonus — it’s handy, but you must contend with a clunky lever-gate maze.

An assortment of interior bits resembles Wisconsin gerrymandering more than a capable cockpit. Front doors have upholstered bits and soft armrests.

The steering wheel is leather-clad. Six bright-ring instruments provide accurate info — the oil pressure gauge, for example, points higher at low temps or high rpm. That’s correct. 

Entune Premium Audio with navigation has two knobs. They promise simplicity but don’t deliver. You must tap app, OK, radio and band in order to tune. 

Other switches and knobs are handy. 

Headlight height, cargo-bed illumination and trailer-brake level controls are placed too low. However, you can adjust your equestrian-toting device’s brakes before hitting the roadway. 

Behind the forward seats, there’s a split-fold padded rear pew. It’s adult adequate, but the center spot bulges too much for back comfort and sides lack thigh support. 

A sliding rear window permits bed access.

In back, the double-wall cargo bed includes several tie-down options. You can remove the easy-drop tailgate — ideal for fifth-wheel towing. 

I intended to load the Tundra’s bed with garage-door lumber. The plywood panels, however, fit in the rear cab, and I stuffed my work garb and ropes in an under-seat bin.

As pickups go, the Tundra needs further refinement, but the truck’s reliability is good. Should this step-up pickup skip the big game and head for an off-track cowboy shindig, it’s suitable. The MSRP is a modest $42,330.