Ellington

"Well, in a way, a boring truck sort of appeals to me," said Mr. K, on our way to the Toyota dealership. We were headed out there to see a Toyota Highlander, which I thought he might appreciate, as he'd been complaining about gas prices and the mileage he gets from his 10-year-old 4Runner.

"Feature Bloat" syndrome seems to have hit Toyota pretty hard—in fact, it's a fairly common occurrence with Japanese automakers who keep making their mid-sized cars bigger and bigger until, finally, they have to introduce a new mid-sized car. That 's what happened with the Highlander, which was introduced a few years back to fill the gap between the 4Runner—which has gotten huge—and the Rav4, which has gotten only a little bigger (and much more toy-like) than its previous body style.

(Ms. D calls this phenomenon "blowing on the tailpipe," which is meant to suggest her theory on how manufacturer's design departments come up with improvements to their SUV designs these days.)

What I had noticed about the Highlander on a previous visit was a reasonably impressive EPA rating on the sticker—with a four-cylinder engine, the Highlander claims 27 mpg on the highway in a 2WD model. Not bad for an SUV that is decidedly un-Cute-Ute.

Not to be crass—the Highlander's appearance is serviceable, with a profile that's something between the 1986 Toyota Corolla 4WD that we currently drive and, say, Mr. Handy's Happy Milkman truck circa 1958. It looks like a big station wagon with about seven inches of ground clearance, meaty (but pragmatic) tires and big, wide doors.

Which was probably the point. The Highlander has a comfortable—if somewhat Spartan—interior, where everything about the design makes sense. Rear seat space is good, and the rear seats recline comfortably. It sports grocery hooks, an available cargo cover, automatic climate control, multi-stage airbags, dual power outlets, backseat bottle holders and four-wheel ABS. The AC blows cold, and the stereo system plays plenty loud enough for the target market. And, like many of today's cars, it boasts an interval between tune-ups of over 100,000 miles.

The 155-horsepower, 2.4-liter four-cylinder is a little huffy on the highway, but Toyota has been known for years for its ability to make a good four-cylinder engine (Mr. K swears by them, not to mention rebuilds them). We were forced to drive an automatic, but felt the engine would be a little more disciplined of a worker with a five-speed manual—were one available. (It's not.)

The Highlander's handling is designed for comfort—built on the same platform as the Lexus RX 300, this really isn't a truck at all, but a wagon in SUV's clothing. Toyota's brochures like to call it "civilized," and I felt like calling it "utilitarian." In fact, the line-up doesn't even push four-wheel drive on you as you'll find with many SUV lineups—you can get any engine size or trim level in both 2WD and 4WD configurations.

That said, the Highlander isn't much of a 4WD vehicle in the trail-riding sense, opting instead for an automatic all-wheel drive system that simply detects slippage and applies torque to the wheel that needs traction.

The base-model Highlander starts around $24,000, but that price has a penchant for climbing, particularly if you want options such as power seats, keyless entry or a compass and outside thermometer features that are sometimes available as standard on competing models. Still, a nicely loaded model can be had for well south of $30,000, which is the lofty perch where many family-oriented SUVs teeter these days.

Put plainly, there's not a ton of S in this SUV. Then again, maybe there's a new class being created here—the UV. It's a utility vehicle, thank you, and it does a fine job.

What's most impressive is that something as big as the Highlander—maximum cargo capacity is 81 cubic feet—can get gas mileage as good as it does. By comparison, the 4Runner is rippled and muscular hunkered over on the other side of the lot, but it almost looks a little sheepish—coyly turned in such as way as to hide the embarrassing EPA figures on its right-side window.

The Highlander, on the other hand, seems unapologetic. Pick the right package and you'll get something that amounts to a minivan with a linebacker's stance. There's plenty of room for four or five of you, plus all of your picnicking or Grandma-visited equipment. The Highlander isn't going bouldering anytime soon but, then again, you probably aren't either. In the meantime, it can handle gravel and dirt roads just fine.

And just think, you might be able to get back on the same tank of gas that you left with.