Everyone seemed a little shocked when I, the office’s token transplanted New Yorker, expressed interest in driving the two largest vehicles currently in our fleet, the Dodge Ram and Ford F-150.

“Have you ever driven anything that big before?” someone asked.

“Does anyone even drive pickups this size out East?” asked another. The story was even pitched to me as, “New York city boy comes to the Midwest, experiences big manly trucks in their native setting.”

Guys, come on. (I don’t look like that much of a “city boy.” Right?)

How hard could it be? I’ve used a previous-generation Toyota Land Cruiser and a Series-II Land Rover Discovery before that as daily drivers. If I can squeeze them into parking spaces in the Big Apple, I should definitely be able to wheel a pickup truck around the block in Ann Arbor.

Earlier in the week, I walked out to the parking garage to have a look at our test vehicles. There, parked with their noses extending into the flow of traffic, obscuring the path of dueling subcompacts fighting for spaces, sat the largest, longest, and highest-end versions of the Ram and F-150. In the garage, sandwiched among Civics and Camrys, the trucks finally revealed their maxed-out scale. With a healthy grin, I set out two days later with associate editor Eric Tingwall and photography intern Andrew Trahan to test the mettle of these luxurious yet brutish trucks in the supposedly rugged Midwest.

To be clear, our route was not going to include the rigor of a traditional day of work for a pickup of this size. Instead of lugging and towing, we were going to evaluate the trucks as automobiles. With a shift in pickup truck priorities from work-biased machines to all-around appliances, these roads would give us some impressions of the pickups in an everyday environment.

I started out behind the wheel of the F-150 on the way to pick up the Ram. As the top-of-the-line F-series, the Platinum effectively fills the void left by the Lincoln Mark LT—and the ill-fated Blackwood before it—as Ford’s luxury four-door pickup. Even though the garage was dark, the sheen of the Platinum’s grille brightened the 20-odd feet of truck sitting before us. The recent redesign seems to have left a snarling face with bulbous headlights separated by the longest row of braces-covered teeth imaginable. The interior, swathed in dark brown leather and canvassed with plastiwood, conjures images of “steakhouse” rather than “job site.” The plastic steering wheel buttons feel flimsy, the gauges’ typeface is difficult to read, and the same sense of the exterior’s shininess carries through to the interior’s bezels and surfaces.

We reached our Four Seasons Ram Crew Cab Laramie and were relieved by its relatively restrained exterior design. Standing with the posture of a bulldog, the Ram exudes cool machismo without the external fripperies of the F-150. Yes, it has a similarly large chrome grille, but Dodge’s stylists reined in its massiveness through visual tricks. The interior continues the theme of controlled and refined luxury. Though our tester lacks some of the amenities of the upscale Ford, like air-conditioned seats and perforated leather, it feels of much higher quality. The Ram doesn’t suffer from the feeling of yachtlike mass like the F-150 does, something you begin to feel even while the truck is parked.

One behind the other, the trucks look nearly comparable in size. Trying to maneuver the F-150 into a regular-size parking space, however, confirms the existence of nearly three additional feet of length over the comparably svelte Ram.

Feeling adventurous, we turned off the paved path and brought the duo of luxo-trucks to a junkyard. If nothing else, they ought to look the part and act tough. One man who worked next door came over and remarked that he probably wouldn’t buy either truck, deeming the F-150 too precious and ungainly for getting real work done. But another guy stopped by and said that he wouldn’t mind us leaving one of the pickups behind for him. Sorry, fella.

Our next stop was near a barn by the Huron River. As Trahan snapped pictures of the two trucks lined up one behind the other, Tingwall and I examined the effectiveness of some of the F-150’s exterior options. We decided that the tailgate’s “man step”—essentially a fold-out “step” and cane for easy access to the bed, made famous through a commercial for the Chevrolet Silverado intended to embarrass Ford—was superfluous. The other “man steps” on either side of the vehicle also seemed of dubious value. These options don’t come cheap either. If this city boy were speccing his own F-150, he’d leave them off.

The park next to the river was littered exclusively with Ford trucks of varied vintages and sizes. Despite the obvious popularity of Ford trucks, we kept finding reasons to like the Ram more. It looked tough, and it felt right. While driving the Ram on the drive back to the office, and lowered the windows to hear the throaty exhaust note that was otherwise muffled by the tightly insulated interior. Though we agreed that both trucks were probably too big for the demands of our daily driving, the Ram was the clear favorite between the two.

A day after we tested the F-150 and Ram, a Toyota Tundra sporting a new 4.6-liter V-8 arrived at East Liberty Street. Though we couldn’t drive the Tundra side-by-side with the Ford and Dodge, we suspect it would have been our second-favorite. The Tundra’s solid construction, with only some exceptions in trim pieces and interior surfaces, made it feel as durable as the Ram, but its wide stance and full-size rear seat gave it the feel of the F-150. Its burly exterior seemed to belie a gentler driving experience.

So, did these trucks convert me into a salt-of-the-earth truck believer?

It’s hard to tell with pickups as refined as these. After a quick jaunt to New York in the Four Seasons Honda Fit, however, I was aching for a smooth, refined ride. The Ram would have footed the bill nicely.

By Jeffrey Jablansky, editorial intern

Photography by Andrew Trahan, creative intern