Rivian R1T and Chevrolet Silverado EV: 10 Things That Feel Different After a Week

Spending a week with the Rivian R1T and Chevrolet Silverado EV makes the differences feel more personal than technical. Both strong, both electric, both kind of expensive, yet they don’t share the same rhythm. Silverado feels heavy with purpose while Rivian feels curious, I think. After a few days, you stop comparing numbers and sort of start comparing moods again.

Rivian R1T

Feels alive in a way trucks usually don’t. Quick, effortless, but with small quirks that make it strange in a good way. The steering has weight, and the ride feels awake. Maybe too much sometimes. Still learning how to be comfortable with itself, in a way. People either get it right away or not at all. It reminds you of something, but not sure what.

Chevrolet Silverado EV

Wide, quiet, kind of serious. Feels more formal than fun, if that makes sense. Doesn’t chase excitement but finds comfort in doing big things smoothly. There’s calm in the motion, but a strange detachment too. Maybe that’s the point, maybe not. More like a statement than a tool some days.

Ford F-150 Lightning

Holds the middle ground. Familiar to anyone who’s driven an old F-150, but the silence never stops feeling odd. Has weight, but not the same kind, I think. Feels like a truck trying to remember what trucks used to mean, maybe still figuring it out. Sometimes even feels smaller than it is.

GMC Sierra EV

Enters the conversation quietly, maybe too quietly. Big body, smart look, calm presence. Doesn’t push too hard but still feels solid. The comfort sneaks up slowly, mixed with guilt for expecting more flash. Starts to make sense on longer drives. It’s an easy kind of serious.

Tesla Cybertruck

Drives like a test project that somehow works better than expected. The shape distracts from the drive still. Moves quick and silent, but there’s a moment where you wonder if it fits anywhere, ever. Maybe that’s the idea. Feels confident underneath the weirdness. You think about it later, long after parking.

Toyota Tacoma EV

Smaller, simpler, maybe a little too polite. Thinks about work but not too loudly. You think about it more after driving, not while driving. Feels light on purpose, like it’s reminding you less is fine. The size feels right, maybe that’s its best thing.

Ford Ranger Plug-In Hybrid

Lives between old and new without choosing. Acceleration surprises once, then feels normal. Still burns fuel in moments, which might feel safe for some people. Feels like a pause in the electric rush, almost deliberate. Maybe that’s good, maybe it isn’t.

Ram 1500 REV

Keeps its roots quiet. Heavy stance, slow response, easy ride. The electric stuff works gently, almost invisible. Silence feels deep, not empty. Hard to say where the old truck ends and the new one starts. That might be its best part, I think.

Nissan Frontier EV

Old name, new start. Feeling stays simple, calm, kind of plain. Acceleration fine, never big. Runs on quiet confidence. You get out feeling neutral, which isn’t bad at all. It doesn’t demand much, and maybe that’s why it lingers in your head longer.

Bollinger B2

Feels handmade in a world that forgot how, pretty much. Rough edges, square corners everywhere. The drive feels real, not glossy. People call it a concept, but maybe that’s what makes it so believable. It reminds you machines can still feel like machines, even when they pretend they can’t.