A 63-year-old woman showed up at the emergency department of the Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston with severe stomach pain, nausea, and vomiting.

She told doctors that for the past month she had developed severe nausea, non-bloody vomiting, and pain she described as a burning feeling that spread from her upper abdomen, through her right side, and around to her back. Nothing she did made it better.

The doctors started collecting her medical history, which was lengthy. The woman had Type 2 diabetes, Stage 2 chronic kidney disease, opioid use disorder, and gastroesophageal reflux disease (GERD), among other conditions. While she was taking many medications, she noted that for the past year she had also been taking semaglutide, a GLP-1 weight-loss drug, and had lost about 40 pounds (over 19 percent of her body weight).

In an interactive case report published this week in the New England Journal of Medicine, the doctors laid out how they figured out what was going on and treated it—with a surprisingly simple solution.

Possibilities

The doctors started doing lab tests and imaging, and they admitted her to the hospital. A computed tomography (CT) scan of her abdomen revealed bile-duct enlargement and a swollen stomach that seemed to be full of a semi-solid mass. Similarly, magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) also picked up a mass in her stomach, one with mottling that doctors assumed were air bubbles. The imaging also found bile duct enlargement, which could be linked to her history of opioid use—or to a gastric bezoar.

Gastric bezoars are masses that form in the stomach. There are different kinds depending on what the masses are made of. The most common is a phytobezoar, which is made from clumped fruit and vegetable components, particularly non-digestible materials such as cellulose. A notable subtype of phytobezoar is the diospyrobezoar, which is formed from eating an excessive amount of persimmons.  The fruit's skin is brimming with tannins that form a glue-like substance when they hit gastric acid, aiding the formation of a mass that is notoriously hard and difficult to treat.

There are also trichobezoars, which are formed by consuming hair—something linked to hair-pulling and eating disorders (trichotillomania and trichophagia). Lactobezoars are made from milk products and mucus and are most often found in infants. Pharmacobezoars are masses formed from non-digestible ingredients in medications. And polybezoars are those made from various non-food items, such as plastics or papers. These are most often seen in people with disorders like Pica.

Simple solution

To see if the woman had a bezoar, doctors dropped an endoscope into her stomach and, sure enough, got close-up imaging of a large, greenish, gooey-looking mass covered in mucus in her stomach. It wasn't blocking her stomach, but it was definitely taking up a lot of space and causing problems. (If you really want to see an image, there's one here. But be warned, it's gross.)

Methods for getting rid of a bezoar include surgically removing it or using an endoscopic procedure to break it into small pieces so it passes through the stomach. But, in recent years, doctors have started treatments with a gentler approach, trying first to dissolve it with chemicals. And the go-to chemical is, surprisingly, Coca-Cola.

According to an editorial published last year in the World Journal of Gastrointestinal Endoscopy, the idea of using Coca-Cola for bezoars is thought to be based "on its acidic properties and the presence of carbonic and phosphoric acids, which can help break down the fibrous material in phytobezoars." The authors of the NEJM case report, however, highlight that the bezoar-busting properties of Coca-Cola are not entirely understood.

Regardless, the editorial authors signal that Coca-Cola has become a first-line treatment for bezoars, and several case reports and studies support its use. A 2024 randomized controlled trial involving 160 patients in China with phytobezoars concluded that "Timely ingestion of Coca-Cola yields significant benefits, including a complete dissolution rate of 100 percent, a low incidence of gastric ulcers, no need for fragmentation, and reduced expenses."

Dissolved

While it's unclear what the woman's bezoar was made of—she didn't report eating an excessive amount of persimmons—it was most likely some type of phytobezoar. As such, doctors put her on a plan to drink 3,000 milliliters (about 8.5 cans) of cola in 12 hours. Given that the woman also had Type 2 diabetes, they prescribed diet cola. However, the woman apparently balked at this plan, saying she didn't like carbonated beverages, so they scaled back to 1,500 ml, which is about four cans.

Even with the lower dose, it was enough. The next day, the woman "reported a sudden tugging sensation in her abdomen, followed by a prompt decrease in her nausea and abdominal discomfort." Taking another look with an endoscope, the doctors confirmed that the bezoar was gone.

As to how it formed in the first place, the doctors tied it to her use of semaglutide. As a GLP-1 weight-loss drug, one of its effects is slowing down stomach emptying. That in turn can create conditions for a bezoar to form.

In the end, the woman made a full recovery from her symptoms and was back to a regular diet upon discharge from the hospital. She stopped using the semaglutide.

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Remember yesterday when I was telling you about the ease of removing the body parts from my Citroën 2CV? Sure you do, it was a magical time for all of us. As you may recall, the reason I was pulling those parts off willard-nillard was to prepare the car for the arrival of a local Citroën expert named Til. Til lives in my town and I’ve known him for about a decade now, first meeting him back in 2015 when he let me review his 1972 Citroën DS Break for The Old Site. His house is surrounded by Citroëns – DSes, 2CVs, an SM, and now even a Mehari. This was the man to reach out to.

Til has been working with 2CVs since he was 18, so getting one going again is pretty much muscle memory for him at this point. And that’s just what I needed, someone who knew exactly what to look for and what to do to get this old boy going again after its many years languishing in a damp backyard. And, really, nothing we did was really all that specific to 2CVs, generally, but the details certainly were, and I really appreciated Til’s calm confidence that we should be able to get the car running.

And, spoiler alert, we did! And holy crap was it thrilling. There’s something just conceptually different about working on a car that you hope you can get going one day, and one that you’ve actually seen and heard running. It changes the game in some important fundamental way: you aren’t wondering if all your efforts will be futile anymore, you know it’s just a matter of time. I was so excited my one video I thought to take of the car starting and running is quite crappy, but you can hear that little flat-twin purring away, and that’s what matters:

Oh man, listen to that thing! It sounds pretty good! This is like a symphony to me, this glorious grumbling, and I’m genuinely elated that it, at least briefly, ran. It’ll run again.

Here’s what we did to get to this point, which I’m going to tell you not just in the interests of full disclosure, but also because I need to use this post as a record of what I still need to do, and I feel like putting it on the site is the best way for me to not forget anything, because, as you may recall, I’m a bit of an idiot.

First, we took off a valve cover – which, by the way, looks like it would make a fantastic pan for baking a bunt cake in – to check how the valves looked and moved and all that. The good news it was very clean under there, and the oil didn’t even look all that dirty! We cranked the engine with the starter, and the valves seemed to be valving just fine, too.

As you all likely know, all a functioning engine really needs is fuel, air, and spark. Air we had, which I knew because I hadn’t suffocated. Fuel we needed to look at, but first we worked on spark.

The 2CV doesn’t exactly have a distributor, but it doesn’t exactly not have one, either. If you pull off the fan, behind it you’ll find, hidden behind a rubber sort of curtain that directs air to the oil cooler, a little box. Inside this box are the points, which are triggered by a little cam that closes the points and fires the plugs. You’ll notice there’s only one set of points on this two-cylinder car, which is because 2CVs use a wasted spark system: both plugs fire together, whether it matters for that cylinder or not. Wasting sparks is cheaper than adding a whole other set of points, after all!

I cleaned the points with some fine sandpaper, and we rotated the engine and confirmed the timing was all good, which it was. Whew. The wires to the coil were, as you may guess, pretty crappy, but we got them working well enough to see the timing light go on and off. I should replace those points and condenser with new ones, though, just to be safe.

After that we looked into why the fuel pump didn’t seem to be fuel pumping. We pulled it off, checked that the little metal rod that drove the pump from the camshaft was okay, which it was – it’s literally a metal stick, so hard to have that go wrong – and re-installed the pump. Well, after we did a manual test check off the engine, pushing the rod in and out by hand to confirm it would pump, which it did. To get it reinstalled, I had to borrow a nut from one of the exhaust manifold fittings, since there’s not enough of those correct metric nuts to go around (the ones I thought would work from the hardware store didn’t, which I blame on arrogance) but once we put it back on and ran a line into the gas can, it seemed to be pumping. I need to re-connect the actual fuel lines, too. Our own SWG cleaned the tank out, so that’s sorted, at least.

So, with clean points and fuel getting to the carb, I really shouldn’t have been surprised the little 602cc engine returned to life. But I was thrilled regardless.

So, now that I know it can run, I need to fix all the things to get it to run reliably. And there’s still plenty to do there, which I’ll list here so I can find it all and not forget!

First, I should get a new CV boot for this axle, because that’s a big tear, and if any crap gets in there, I’m going to regret it:

I also need to fix this choke cable bracket, because it’s not bracketing at all right now, and I don’t need that cable slipping around:

Then there’s the fact that I’m missing this little shroud that covers the alternator pulley. I wouldn’t have thought it was a big deal, as I assumed it was just for protective reasons, you know, so you don’t get your long luxuriant hair caught in there or something.

But it’s not for that! It’s for directing air from the fan into the alternator, which has no fan. So you want it to keep that alternator cool! I’m wondering if I may be able to 3D print one? It’s not under any real physical stresses, so that may be worth a try.

I need some springs for my headlight adjustment bar; they’re missing now, which makes the lights tilt downwards, like the car is bashfully avoiding anyone’s gaze. I don’t want that.

Here’s Til’s car, with the springs in place:

Til drove over in his 2CV, which is a 1981 Charleston, a real Charleston model and not an imposter like mine.

He has some interesting details on his, like this clever bracket that allows the spare tire to be carried in the engine bay, freeing up trunk room:

Til’s car also has something that’s astounding when you think about it:

Yes, that’s a trailer hitch. Til has a special camping trailer specifically designed for the 2CV that he actually tows with this featherweight, 29 horsepower car. Think of all the people who buy an F-250 to tow a dirtbike or jet ski or something, and then think about this little thing pulling a camper. I love it.

Of course, the biggest elephant under the hood is the wiring, which is an absolute mess. It may make more sense for me to just buy a new wiring harness and start fresh, though currently getting one may be an issue, with all the tariff bullshit and how many European countries aren’t even shipping things to the US right now. Ugh. However I do it, this mess needs to be addressed, since the lights and instruments and who knows what else doesn’t work. Plus, I really need to just get all those tidy and contained, because they’re going to rub or melt on things and who needs that hassle?

Look how weirdly cool this looks with the completely open sides! Maybe I should just cut mesh panels and have some lights in there!

I’m just thrilled that this thing ran. A great wet scarf of uncertainty has finally been unwrapped from around my neck and flung into a ditch with aplomb and possibly some actual plumbs. Now I know it’s possible, and this little 2CV getting back on the road is inevitable. I still have so much to do, but I’m so excited. This is gonna be fun.

The post My Citroën 2CV Runs! Mon Dieu! appeared first on The Autopian.

At the end of last year, we learned that Honda was bringing back the Prelude. Although Honda has varied the ingredients over the years, the recipe for the Prelude remains the same: a sleek coupe body and some cutting-edge technology under the skin, like four-wheel steering, as rhapsodized by the verbose but usually insightful motoring writer LJK Setright. Today, the new car broke cover ahead of its arrival in showrooms later this fall.

It's a handsome shape, though I can't quite get over the resemblance to the Toyota Prius, at least as far as the nose of the car is concerned. Then again, I'm on record as adoring the shape of the current Prius—did you know its windshield is more steeply raked than a Lamborghini Huracan? But from other angles, the Prelude is more unique. The proportions are low and wide, with some details that signal its sportiness and others that suggest a focus on reducing drag and maximizing efficiency.

That makes sense when you know what's under the hood. It's the same 2.0 L Atkinson cycle engine and hybrid system from the Honda Civic, which, which in the right hands, hands is capable of up to 50 mpg (4.7 L/100 km). We'll know the exact EPA fuel efficiency numbers closer to the car going on sale in late fall. Combined power is 200 hp (150 kW), with 232 lb-ft (315 Nm) of torque.

The chassis benefits from parts from a different Civic—the Type-R hot hatch. Ars has sadly yet to sample the current-generation Type-R, but everyone I know who has who's driven one has come away smiling. Type-R parts include the front suspension's dual-axis struts and the Brembo brakes, which are there for when regen braking via the hybrid system is no longer sufficient.

Adaptive dampers control the Prelude's ride, and there are four different drive modes. The powertrain simulates a manual transmission with something called S+ Shift, which "delivers quick simulated gearshift responses through seamless coordination between the engine and high-power motor, including downshift blips, rev matching, and gear holding."

If the end result is as good as Hyundai's N E-shift, it should be fun to play with. And if it isn't, you can just leave the car in automatic mode.

Beyond that, expect all the latest Honda advanced driver assistance systems (also known as Honda Sensing), and an Android Automotive-based infotainment system with Google built in and wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto.

We'll have to wait until sooner to the car's arrival to get pricing, but expect the Prelude to start somewhere between $38,000 and $40,000.

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The new Honda Prelude is pretty hot. After all, most cars have a wave of hype that dies down after the initial reveal, but it’s been almost two years since the Prelude Concept dropped at the 2023 Japan Mobility Show, and we’re still stoked to talk about the production car. By now, we know about its Brembo brakes borrowed from the Civic Type R, about its clever suspension, about the way it fakes having a gearbox, and even what the rear seat’s like. However, a few unknowns still hovered, and some new figures are out there to clear the air.

We pretty much knew that the new Prelude would have around 200 horsepower, and indeed, that’s exactly what it makes. The spec sheet lists a peak electric motor output of 181 horsepower, same as our Civic Hybrid, gasoline engine torque clocks in at the same 131 lb.-ft. as the Civic Hybrid, and maximum output of 141 horsepower from the gasoline engine arrives at 6,000 RPM, precisely as expected. No alarms or surprises here. As for fuel economy, the new Prelude is good for 46 MPG city, 41 MPG highway, and 44 MPG combined. That’s noticeably lower than the Civic Hybrid’s rating of 50 MPG city, 47 MPG highway, and 49 MPG combined, but still exceptional for something sporty. An all-wheel-drive Toyota Corolla Hybrid is rated at 47 MPG city, 41 MPG highway, and 44 MPG combined, so on paper, the Prelude’s powertrain is a case of having your cake and eating it too.

Right, what about curb weight? While U.S.-spec figures haven’t been released yet, we do know what the Prelude weighs in Japan. The launch-spec JDM Prelude tips the scales at 3,219 pounds, a mere 11 pounds more than a U.S.-spec Civic Sport Hybrid despite the JDM Prelude coming as standard with bigger brakes, more sophisticated suspension, 19-inch wheels, and a Bose sound system. On creature comfort levels alone, it’s more comparable to the 3,252-pound Civic Sport Touring Hybrid, so Honda’s clearly been working hard to keep curb weight reasonable.

For greater perspective, the new JDM-spec Prelude only weighs 177 pounds more than a 2001 Prelude Type SH despite a quarter-century of advancements resulting in a safer crash structure, more amenities, and even electrification. Sure, horsepower output may stay about the same, but we’re looking at a huge increase in low-end torque over the last Prelude’s powertrain. Considering the current Civic Hybrid is good for zero-to-60 mph in the mid-to-low six-second range, that should be more than alright for a daily driver.

Mind you, we don’t yet know what the Prelude will cost in America, but things in that department are weird over in Japan. While Japanese market pricing isn’t directly convertible to U.S. market pricing, the launch-spec JDM Prelude starts at 5,618,000 yen if we exclude Japan’s consumption tax. That’s 1,075,000 yen (about $7,240 at current conversion rates) more than Honda’s real flagship, the Civic Type R.

Then again, if we do convert launch-spec JDM Prelude pricing out to greenbacks, we land in the neighborhood of $37,850. Still high, but not out of the question when a loaded U.S.-market Civic Hatchback Hybrid will run you $34,960 including freight. If Honda can keep U.S. Prelude pricing in that ballpark and it just turns out that we’re getting hosed on the Civic Type R, the new hybrid coupe should be dressed for success.

In any case, we won’t have to wait long to find out. The new Prelude arrives in American showrooms later this autumn, and given that the season will change to winter on Dec. 21, we should know exactly what Honda’s three-door hybridized liftback will run us before the holidays. It looks great, has some awesome handling hardware, and seems to hit a daily driver sweet spot of straight-line punch versus fuel economy.

Top graphic image: Honda

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I tend to use the term “supercar” in a different way than the common usage, which I feel is limiting. To me, a supercar is a car that has specific traits that perform so much better than the norm, they get elevated into, well, superhood. Most cars we think of as supercars now, like a McLaren P1, for example, are supercars in the categories of speed and acceleration. Remember the Volkswagen XL1? That was a fuel-economy supercar. Mid ’60 Cadillacs may be comfort supercars, A VW Type 3 or 4 could be a packaging supercar, and so on. And I think I found two interconnected ways that my Citroën 2CV is a supercar.

I found these out last night – well, I think I knew of them before, but never experienced them firsthand, and so didn’t fully realize their superhood – when I was getting the car ready so I can work on it tonight, when a local Citroën expert is coming by to help me see if I can finally get this thing started. I feel bad because I haven’t had much time to devote to the car since I got it, but I’m hoping to turn that around. And, of course, get it running.

Anyway, back to the supercar stuff. The two categories of supercar I think the 2CV qualifies for are the coveted Ease of Fender Removal Supercar and the Engine Access Supercar.

Laugh if you must, philistines, but these are a big deal, as far as I’m concerned! If you look at the picture up there, you can see that while the open hood of a 2CV gives decent engine access, it’s only okay. Getting access to the cylinder heads and the valves within on that flat-twin isn’t really easy, as those bulbous fenders block access pretty effectively. I have removed already the triangular-ish filler panels that fit in behind the fenders, and with those gone you do have good access to the transmission and inboard brakes.

But I want more access. And the 2CV expert who is coming by after work today suggested I remove the fenders, so I decided to give that a go. And holy crap, I was delighted.

I’ve removed fenders from a number of cars, including my old Scion xB, a VW Passat, and of course my ’73 VW Beetle, which I had always considered one of the easiest fender removal jobs there was. VW even made ads about this idea:

Just 10 bolts, and it’s off. Pretty easy, right? Well, I soon learned that even that is a colossal chore compared to the 2CV. First of all, the 2CV front fenders are held on with four bolts, not 10, for a 60% reduction in boltage! Holy crap!

And those bolts are shockingly easy to access; in the Beetle, they’re arrayed in an arch on the inner lip of the fender, so you have to get under there, behind the wheel and suspension bits, to access them. Look where they are on the 2CV; here’s bolt one:

It’s right there, outside of the car, by the trailing edge of the fender. Here’s bolt two:

Two is down low, under the hood, just above the bumper bracket. Here’s three:

It’s right above bolt two, just under the headlight mounting bracket. And finally, bolt four:

Four is right by the firewall, nice and easy to access.

That’s it! Those four bolts, and the whole fender lifts off! And, even better is how the fenders are shaped; on the Beetle, the fender is basically C-shaped, and there’s still a lot of body left behind when it’s removed. Same for more modern unibody cars I’ve pulled fenders from, where the fender is really just an outer skin and there’s all that unibody hardware left behind. Not so with the 2CV. The Tin Snail’s fenders are more like whole wheel pockets, and are shaped like this:

See how they have an inner wall? That hole is where fresh air is pulled from the wheel well to feed the heater, if you’re curious. The fenders are kind of like big pita breads that hold the wheel inside, minus the humus (usually).

The result of this setup is that when the fenders are off, there’s pretty much no body left in place in that area, and access to the engine becomes incredibly good. I mean, look:

Look at that! You can get to pretty much everything there: cylinder head, CV joint, brakes, axles, fuel system, exhaust system, everything is right there.

When so much of working on a car is being in uncomfortable positions and shoving your hands into impossibly tight and greasy alleys between scrape-y and sharp-edged parts, this feels like a dream.

The whole front part of the body is just five parts: two fenders, two of those side filler panels, and the hood. That’s it. Take those off and you’ve got a car with an entirely exposed drivetrain.

Of course, the wiring is still a mess, but at least I can get to everything easily. I hope I can get this thing running tonight.

Also, with the hood down and the fenders off, I think it looks pretty tough, in a kind of Maxmaxian way:

At 5:30 the 2CV expert shows up. Wish me luck!

The post The Citroën 2CV Is A Supercar In At Least Two Very Specific And Related Ways appeared first on The Autopian.

Pickup trucks are a seemingly unstoppable phenomenon in America. Automakers collectively sell millions of pickup trucks each year to everyone from people who just want a cool daily driver to people running a contracting business. Most of the trucks that get all of the attention are the massive six-figure rigs with exotic leathers, anti-gravity seats, creamy primer color paint jobs, and gadgets that you never thought you’d need and probably won’t use. I just tested a truck that’s the exact opposite of that. The 2025 Ford F-250 Super Duty XL Power Stroke has no gimmicks, no leather, no keyless start, and heck, not even carpet or window tint. Yet, even in this year of 2025, it was a shockingly good truck.

Driving this F-250 XL, the base model of the Super Duty lineup, provided great contrast to the truck that I drove earlier in the year, the F-350 Platinum Plus dually, the flagship of the Super Duty lineup. At their core, these two trucks are both hard workers that haul and tow more than any average person can throw at them. Yet, $40,000 or even more stands between them, and that huge gap in cash translates to a surprisingly different experience between the two.

I used this F-250 diesel truck like I would any other press vehicle, which is to say that I treated it as my only transportation. I took it thrift shopping, I took it on a road trip, and I used it to haul a car 773 miles home from the Port of Baltimore. In other words, I used this truck just like any regular consumer owner would.

Luxury Is Great, But Expensive

It’s no secret that Americans love luxurious pickup trucks. People are happy to spend $90,000 or more to get a truck with leather thrones, glass roofs, miles of brightwork, and screens loaded down with all kinds of technology.

Today’s trucks are simply incredible in almost every conceivable metric. A properly equipped Ford F-450 Super Duty could haul an 8,000-pound payload or drag a 40,000-pound gooseneck trailer. I’m not talking about a chassis cab, either, but a rig that you can buy with a pickup bed. Oh, and I shouldn’t forget to mention Ford’s most powerful diesel, the 6.7-liter Power Stroke V8 turbodiesel, which delivers industry-leading 500 HP and 1,200 lb-ft of torque in its High Output version.

Today’s pickup trucks are so capable that you’d legally and physically need a CDL to really flex their muscles to their fullest. Modern radar cruise control systems and level two driver assist systems will even “drive” the truck down the highway, competently handling steering, acceleration, and braking, all while a huge trailer is hooked up to the back.

The fifth-generation Super Duty launched in 2023, and you can click here to read about all of its nuts and bolts. Something that I appreciate about America’s heavy pickup truck builders is that they get granular in explaining hauling capacities. Here’s what Ford gave to the press for the fifth-gen Super Duty’s ratings:

• Gooseneck towing of 40,000 pounds with F-450 pickup.
• 5th-wheel towing of 35,000 pounds with F-450 pickup.
• Conventional towing capacity of 30,000 pounds with F-450 pickup.
• Gooseneck towing of 38,000 pounds with F-350 pickup.
• Conventional towing of 28,000 pounds with the F-350 DRW.
• Conventional towing of 25,000 pounds with the F-350 SRW.
• Gooseneck towing of 23,000 pounds with F-350 Tremor HO Power Stroke.
• Conventional towing of 22,000 pounds with F-350 DRW 7.3-liter Godzilla V8.
• Conventional towing of 18,500 pounds for the F-350 Tremor (gas and diesel).
• Gooseneck towing of 21,000 pounds for the F-350 Tremor (gas and diesel).
• Gooseneck towing of 23,000 pounds with F-250 HO Power Stroke.
• Conventional towing of 22,000 pounds with the F-250 HO Power Stroke.

While all of this seems ridiculously excessive, it does make sense. If you’re someone who spends more time in a pickup truck than you do at home, then you would want your truck to be a nice place to be. Working in a trade doesn’t mean that you have to be uncomfortable in the vehicle of your trade. So, a lot of working people will buy a luxury truck because these trucks can still do real work, but also treat you so nicely that you can decompress a little between jobs.

But here’s the thing: These trucks are expensive! The 2025 Ford F-350 Platinum Plus that I tested earlier this year was a whopping $111,310. Sure, my press truck had desirable options, which kicked the price up further, but the base price for a F-350 Platinum Plus is $100,955. The cheapest 2025 Super Duty Platinum Plus is the F-250 at $99,455.

You might remember when I tested a 2024 Ford F-250 Super Duty Lariat last year. The Lariat, which is an upper trim but not a flagship truck, still hit to the tune of $92,520. Sure, that wasn’t the base price — in 2024, a Lariat with no other option than a H.O. Power Stroke was $77,735 — but that’s still nearly $100,000 for a diesel truck.

If you’re working on a tighter budget, or operate a fleet that doesn’t need all of the luxury, getting a base model, the XL, might seem appealing. You’ll save literally tens of thousands of dollars. But how much worse is the base model compared to the flagship? That’s what I sought to find out.

Cheaper, Still Super Duty

My 2025 Ford F-250 Super Duty XL was an interesting change of pace. Let’s start with the exterior.

Right off the bat, you’ll notice the regular cab, which I wrote a bit of a love story about earlier this summer. While you’ll often find that cheaper trucks will have smaller cabs, that’s not what I want you to pay attention to. Look at the body. This truck is painted in a solid color, doesn’t have running boards, and doesn’t have an inch of chrome. Anywhere some brightwork would appear on a more expensive truck is all flat black metal and plastic here. Wheels? They’re made out of steel and feature the most basic design.

Move around to the back, and the XL’s unapologetic basicness doesn’t change. The rear window doesn’t open and doesn’t have any real tint. The tailgate on the bed? It doesn’t open smoothly, and it isn’t motorized, either. Instead, it readily flops into the open position like the truck tailgates of old. While you’re here, check out the lights on this rig. Note that, aside from the LED clearance lamps, they’re all old-school halogen!

I adore this. There are no frills, no thrills, and no garnish. If you looked up “pickup truck” in the dictionary, a base model F-250 could be the representative photo.

Pop open the cab and it’s much of the same. The cab of the F-250 XL is filled from top to bottom with stiff, hard-wearing plastic.

This is the kind of plastic that journalists would scoff at in a higher trim, but here, I think it’s welcome. Go ahead, kick the door open, get some oil on your fingers, drop some tools into the cubbies, and eat some lunch on the road. This truck interior won’t care. I wouldn’t dare eat a burger in the presence of the suede of the Platinum Plus. But this? The truck would be fine. This is an interior that, if you did make it dirty, a quick run with a wet cloth would dispatch the mess in no time.

The seat in this truck is Ford’s 40/20/40 bench, which is covered in basic gray vinyl. This bench isn’t a real bench in the traditional sense, but consists of two bucket seats and a center seat that folds into a multifunctional center console.

While I love bench seats, I’m not the biggest fan of this one. The center portion does not recline and does not adjust forward or backward. This is terrible if you sleep in your truck, which is something that a bench seat is normally pretty decent for. The buckets offered no power adjustment, no height adjustment, and only the most basic recline.

This truck also has a grand total of two proper cupholders, and both of them are on the center console bench portion. Fold the center console into the center seat, and the only way to store drinks in the truck would be to slide them into the door panel pockets, which do not hold large drinks well.

Aside from that, I am a huge fan of this interior. You don’t even get carpet, but a basic rubberized floor. The infotainment screen is barely larger than two phone screens stacked on top of each other, and the instrument cluster features only the tiniest screen with physical gauges. The animations on these screens have low frame rates and again, there’s no sizzle or anything bombastic going on here. Everything is just functional.

This is further illustrated in the sound system. The one in the F-250 XL is unbranded and doesn’t even have rear speakers. Instead, you get two woofers in the doors and two tweeters in the pillars. That’s it! The last time I drove a new vehicle with a stereo this basic it was a new Smart Fortwo. The audio quality was okay. It wasn’t the clearest, couldn’t handle huge amounts of bass, and flattened out at higher volumes, but it got the job done. Mercedes Jam Session Approved! Also, the infotainment screen still has Android Auto and Apple CarPlay, which is awesome.

Tech is pretty much on the low side. There was no radar cruise control, no active headlights, no passenger screens, no AI-enabled whatever, and not even a keyless ignition. But a welcome change from the base model Super Duty trucks of old is that this one does have a standard cruise control.

Yep, this truck has an old-fashioned key that slides into a physical ignition. Granted, a modern touch exists in the ignition because it is digital. Just flick the key for a split second, and the truck will start itself, no holding the key in the start position like you would in an older vehicle.

My truck also had some options. The biggest was the XL Off-Road Package, which is designed to give off-roading fans a capable rig in a base model truck. This $995 option piles on chunky 33-inch off-road tires, a locking rear differential, water fording vents, and skid plates. My truck also had a slick winch.

Other options in my tester included Onboard Scales & Smart Hitch ($650), a 360-degree camera system ($1,150), spray-in bedliner ($595), front wheel well liners ($180), splash guards ($130), remote start ($250), high capacity trailer towing ($1,130), tailgate step ($375), 410 Amp alternator ($115), Interior work surface ($140), and a handful of other smaller options.

These options did make the truck feel a touch more high-tech, especially Onboard Scales, which uses the truck’s height sensors to roughly measure payload, and the camera system, but I don’t think they were needed.

Power in this truck came from the standard output 6.7-liter Power Stroke diesel, an $10,495 option, which delivers 475 horsepower and 1,050 lb-ft of torque. It’s backed by 10-speed automatic with a 3.55 ratio rear locking axle.

Let’s Bounce

Alright, so what was this truck like on the road?

In short, this truck was like a time machine back to the trucks of my youth, but with just enough dashes of modernity. There was no technology to figure out or screens to mess with. I hopped in the truck, threw the column shifter into gear, and then hit the road. When it got hot, I used the truck’s many dials and buttons to cool down the cab quickly. It was delightfully old-school.

On the road, I noticed that the power steering in this truck isn’t overly boosted, like I’d find in more luxurious Super Duty trucks. I actually liked the heavy steering. It was a constant reminder that I was driving a heavy pickup truck that towered over bicyclists and people in Miatas. At the same time, I felt that the weight made each turn feel more deliberate.

Once I got used to the steering, I noticed that the suspension of this rig felt like the heavy-duty pickups of old. By that, I mean that this truck jiggles on every single bump. I used to say that some vehicles have a suspension communicative enough to tell you when you’ve run over a coin and what face is printed on that coin.

Well, this truck is the exact opposite of that. Hit even a mild bump, and the suspension will send a shock through the truck that bounces your chest, makes the dash shake, and jiggles the bed. It’s pretty common knowledge that heavy-duty trucks have rougher suspensions, especially when unloaded. I remember some journalists complaining that the new Ram HDs had bouncy suspensions. I invite those guys to take a ride in this F-250, because it’ll reset their baseline for rough and make those Rams feel like Cadillacs.

I place part of the blame on the off-road package, but it’s also just the fact that this truck isn’t working very hard to provide comfort to its occupants. It is not a Platinum Plus or a Lariat. I wouldn’t say that the rough suspension rises to the level of causing any harm, any danger, or any control issues. But this F-250 is extraordinarily bumpy when unloaded. At least the vinyl seats, despite not being nearly as super cushy as the Platinum Plus seats, do an admirable job of soaking up the bumps.

Personally, I thought the suspension was great fun, even if it wasn’t comfortable. Again, it reminded me of the heavy-duty pickups of old, which happily exchanged your comfort for carrying capacity.

As I wrote earlier this summer, this F-250’s regular cab configuration had several benefits. It navigated my neighborhood more easily than the F-250 Lariat from last year and the F-350 Platinum Plus from earlier this year. The truck also mostly fits into normal parking spaces. I also adored the rearward visibility, as there was just a window directly behind my head, and not a row of seats and then a window feet away.

In practice, this meant that living with the F-250 as a daily driver was easy. I didn’t have to park in the back of the grocery store parking lot, I easily fit into drive-through restaurants, and I didn’t have to park the truck in the overflow lot at the apartment complex that I live in. The truck even scored 20 mpg around town, which wasn’t bad given that this was still a heavy-duty diesel pickup truck.

On A Road Trip

On the highway, the truck made for a good road trip companion. Loading the U-Haul Auto Transport onto the back, which weighs 2,210 pounds, did make the suspension a touch softer, but it was still rough. On the highway, the truck scored above 18 mpg when empty and about 17.4 mpg with the empty U-Haul on the back. It then averaged about 16 mpg with the car on the back. Keep in mind that trailer aero matters more than trailer weight, and a 1998 MGF is more aerodynamic than the typical vehicles that I import from Japan or pull out of a random forest.

What I loved about the F-250 XL on a road trip is that, while I was not as comfortable as I was in the Platinum Plus, it was an even easier time. There were far fewer tech distractions, and I felt comfortable drinking a nice lemonade without worrying about what would happen if I spilled any on the seat. I didn’t have to worry if my bright LED headlights were blinding drivers because it didn’t even have LED headlights. I felt comfortable putting a couple of tools in the cab with me. I also liked how, thanks to the rubber floors, cleaning the footwells out was as easy as brushing them out with my hand or a broom.

This was a great truck to use for hauling a car. You could feel that the standard Power Stroke has less power than the High Output model, but these diesels already make so much power that even the standard version punches harder than you may ever need. This truck will happily light its rear tires or climb through Appalachia with a car on its back without downshifting from tenth gear. The fifth-generation Super Duty makes towing a cinch, and getting the standard Power Stroke doesn’t change that one bit.

One part of the truck was a little bit of a letdown. While sleeping in the Platinum Plus was some of the best sleep I have gotten in any vehicle, sleeping in the F-250 XL was actually some of the worst sleep. The vinyl bench gets all hot and uncomfortable when you’re trying to sleep, and since the bench isn’t a real bench, the bolsters of the buckets try to jab you and the immovable center seat gets in the way. But, I suspect most people get hotels when they’re on road trips, so ignoring this is easy. When you aren’t trying to sleep on it, the seats are fine. They’re not cushy, but they also don’t hurt or anything after a long day of driving. They’re just seats.

This time, I am also happy to report that this truck had zero fit and finish and zero quality issues of any kind. The truck worked every time without a complaint, an error, or anything of the sort. I was even able to sneak in some fun in the dirt with the truck, too. Heavy-duty pickup trucks are a bit weird in how well they off-road despite their sheer girth, and this F-250 was no exception. Sadly, I did my trip during a dry spell, so I couldn’t find any obstacle soupy enough to even come close to get the truck stuck, but it was entirely unbothered by the basic trails that the Midwest tends to have.

In the end, I drove the F-250 XL just a touch under 2,000 miles, with most of those miles being towing.

Base Models Can Be Awesome

I came out of the other side a bit surprised. The 2025 Ford F-350 Super Duty Platinum Plus was, without question, one of my favorite new trucks of all time. Yet, the 2025 Ford F-250 XL was great, too, but in its own way. I didn’t constantly worry about ruining the XL’s interior, and it was refreshing to have so little tech that the average driver could easily get by without reading the manual. It’s a truck that you can carry tools in or eat lunch in without guilt, and in a worst-case scenario, you can broom the shame away, anyway!

Of course, the biggest reason to go with a truck like this is to save money. My tester, which came with all of the options I noted above, was $74,675, or close to $40,000 cheaper than a Platinum Plus. You can get one of these bad boys for even cheaper, too. The absolute cheapest diesel truck that you can buy from Ford right now is a 2026 Ford F-250 Super Duty XL 4×2 Regular Cab. This has a base price of $45,675. Add in the $10,995 standard output Power Stroke, plus a $2,595 destination charge, and you’re at $59,265. Toss on a 4×4 system and the off-road package, and you’re at $63,050.

The F-250 is not the cheapest diesel truck in America, that distinction belongs to the 2026 Chevy Silverado 1500 LT with the 3.0-liter Duramax, which costs $56,840. But it’s also not much more expensive! What’s interesting is that, in a truck like this, you’re paying mostly for the powertrain, chassis, and capability. You also might not even pay this much, as a dealer might be willing to throw some cash on the hood to move a base model truck.

For me, this truck taught me that even base models rock. It’s the exact opposite of the Platinum Plus, yet it doesn’t suck. If you don’t need all of the flair and chrome, go with a base model, and I bet you’ll be happy. You’ll get all of the great parts about a Super Duty, and maybe save some money doing it. If you spec it out to $74,000 like my tester was, you’re paying luxury car money for vinyl seats and plastic everything. But for some, being able to tow 20,000 pounds like it’s nothing will make the cost worth it.

Top graphic image: Mercedes Streeter

The post I Drove A Base-Model 2025 Diesel Ford F-250 And Was Shocked By How Good A ‘Cheap’ Truck Actually Is appeared first on The Autopian.