Even in the dim hours before daybreak, Russell Builta's vehicle is unmistakable -- the super-wide frame, the stout, muscular body, the sparkling chrome on the trademark grill. It could be confused with no other vehicle on the road, save for, perhaps, a Brink's truck.
Sonia Janowsky's car is also a head-turner. It looks like a regular sedan, but one that has been pressed into that ultra-aerodynamic style that is a car's way of saying it comes from the future.
They are the Hummer and the hybrid, the two most extreme cars on the road, as different as Bach and Kid Rock.
Their differences have brought them together in the public eye in recent months, as gas prices have soared to unprecedented levels and a war some see as wrapped in the politics of oil has turned the Hummer, for some, into a symbol of all that is wrong with America. Hybrids have emerged as the "in thing" after an era of bigger-is-better SUVs -- even the new Hummer is leaner and more fuel-efficient -- and virtually all automakers are rushing models onto the streets.
They are entangled in a different way in the Washington area, where a Virginia law that allows hybrid owners to drive solo in carpool lanes has made the vehicles as reviled as Hummers. The provision has led to a flood of hybrids in HOV lanes -- a study released this year estimated that they account for 17 percent of vehicles -- and carpoolers blame them for slowing the lanes.
The view is quite different from the driver's seat, where Builta and Janowsky said that they love their cars and that the criticisms are misguided.
Hybrids "are certainly not causing the traffic," said Janowsky, who drives a Toyota Prius. "I don't think it's a problem yet."
Builta, an ex-Marine, brushes off any suggestion that Hummers are any worse for the environment than any other gas-thirsty car, RV or boat or that they are somehow linked to the war in Iraq. "We didn't go to war for gas," he said. "We'd be there no matter what."
Builta said he bought his Hummer H2 SUT in July because of its unparalleled off-road capabilities.
"It's like buying a four-wheeler," he said. "You're looking to have fun with it, and you get the bonus of the daily drive."
Everything about the Hummer experience on Builta's commute from Woodbridge to McLean is "Like Nothing Else," as ads for the vehicle declare. The thing is wide -- 81.2 inches from end to end -- and riders have the sense of being very close to the cars next to them and very far from each other. Riders sit nearly as high as truck drivers, and even big SUVs seem small and distant on the road below.
"One of the good things about it is I'm a little bit higher up," Builta said. "If five cars up someone is stopping, I'll be ready."
