Suburban’s cavernous cargo space and traditional V8 keep it top of mind for big families.
Armada’s new turbo V6 and air suspension surprise with comfort and lively torque, despite quirks.
Both cost well into six figures as tested, yet one of them skips small luxuries that should be standard.
If there’s one undeniable truth about today’s auto market, and for the last 15 years, it’s that vehicles keep growing. Whether it’s hatchbacks morphing into crossovers or SUVs bloating into near buses, the appetite for size seems endless. We justify it all by saying we’ve got gear to haul, hockey practices to attend, and kids that keep multiplying. My great-grandmother had thirteen kids! If cars existed a century ago like they do today, we’d all be rolling around in 15-passenger Transit vans.

Thinking about our families, it made perfect sense for us to round up two full-size, three-row titans that many Canadian families still eye with old-school affection: the 2025 Chevrolet Suburban and the freshly updated 2025 Nissan Armada. Both promise loads of space, towing chops, plush touches, and healthy doses of style. Both also come stickered at prices that would have made your grandfather question whether this amount of money was even possible. But hey, progress, right?
The Armada: a high-tech makeover in a traditional shell
Let’s start with the “smaller” of the pair, though that’s relative. The 2025 Nissan Armada stretches to 5.33 metres and starts around $85,000 in Canada. The version I drove was the Platinum Reserve with second-row captain chairs, massaging seats, adaptive air suspension and enough screens to rival a Best Buy store. Sticker? Just shy of $106,000.

Under the hood sits a new 3.5-litre twin-turbo V6 pumping out 425 horsepower and a stout 516 lb-ft of torque. It pairs with a somewhat fidgety 9-speed automatic, but when it finally drops gears, this thing scoots with genuine authority. Around town, it sounds grumbly and mechanical, not quite tuned to be refined at idle, but open it up past 3,000 rpm and there’s a sophisticated edge to the exhaust note that I didn’t expect.
Inside, Nissan’s done solid work. Twin 14.3-inch screens dominate the dash, graphics are crisp, and the layout is mostly logical. Storage, though, leaves something to be desired: the centre bin is awkwardly placed, under-console space is nearly hidden, and some cup holders are oddly positioned. At least the massaging seats, heated and cooled functions, and clean button layout elevate day-to-day life.

The air suspension helps the Armada glide over pockmarked pavement. Even on an off-ramp full of patchwork repairs, it settled nicely without the bucking or side-hopping you sometimes get in big SUVs. Paired with a towing capacity of 8,500 lbs and fuel economy that, surprisingly, can dip below 12 L/100 km on the highway, it starts to look like a genuinely thoughtful update.
But then there’s reality, and there are quirks. Returned fuel consumption hovered around the 15L/100km mark, which is to be expected. Nissan decided to plop a console between the captain chairs, which makes clambering to the third row awkward. The third row itself is reasonably spacious for two adults or three squirming kids but watch for squabbles. Behind it, cargo space measures an acceptable 578 litres, which triples when the seats are folded. Respectable, though not earth-shattering.

The Suburban: the icon that still owns the segment
Then there’s the Chevy Suburban. It’s practically an institution. Longer than the Armada by nearly half a metre, the Suburban clocks in at a whopping 5.75 metres. Starting at around $83,500, it’s oddly a touch cheaper than the Armada in base form. But load it up, like this RST model with a 6.2-litre V8, 24-inch wheels, adaptive air suspension and magnetic ride control, and you’ll be staring down an invoice just north of $114,000.
That said, there’s just something timeless about this truck. The design is squared off, broad-shouldered and imposing, which I frankly love. It’s a rolling billboard that says, “I have places to be and people to haul.” And haul it does: pop the hatch and you’ll find 1,175 litres behind the third row, just over double the Armada’s. Drop the seats and it swells to 2,656 litres. If that’s not enough, you may want to reconsider your Costco addiction.

Inside, it’s classic modern Chevy: big, simple controls, solid plastics, and a wide digital swath up front. The 17.7-inch touchscreen is angled toward the driver, Apple CarPlay works without fuss, and there’s ample room to stash everything from Timbits to tissues. But despite the six-figure price tag, it skimps on details. No cooled seats. Manual tilt and telescoping wheel. Auto-down rear windows, but no auto-up. My eight-year-old mid-trim Golf Sportwagen laughs at that.
Still, the driving experience largely redeems it. The 6.2-litre V8 is buttery smooth, rich-sounding outside, and matched to a 10-speed that’s generally relaxed, though it too can hesitate under throttle. Steering is nearly old-school light, so you can one-finger it through parking lots, and the overall vibe is wonderfully laid-back, until the ride starts to betray it. Those 24-inch wheels look killer, but hammer the suspension over repeated bumps. It can become unsettled in ways that are surprising for such a tech-laden chassis. Frankly, the 24s should be a no-no as the combined wheel-tire unsprung weight dramatically flusters the magnetic ride control dampers.

So who wins?
Honestly? My heart still belongs to these big GM trucks. Even with the rougher ride and the lack of some basic luxuries, the Suburban effortlessly performs the big family hauler role with disconcerting ease. It’s roomier by a country mile, can tow nearly anything, and serves up a style that’s tough to match.
But hats off to Nissan. The Armada is leagues better than the old model it replaces. It rides better, packs more torque, and the cabin tech is genuinely impressive. For some, the slightly tidier size and extra standard luxury will be exactly what they want.

Either way, both of these SUVs are rolling monuments to excess in the best possible way. They might not make sense for everyone, but if you’ve got the budget, the family, and the driveway space, they’re hard to resist. And if you’re anything like me, still a sucker for a body-on-frame brute with a burly V8, you’ll probably find yourself leaning toward the Suburban… even if you’ll grumble about the price over every.
If it were my money, I’d go all in for a 2025 GMC Yukon XL AT4 Ultimate with the 3.0L Duramax diesel engine with a few options, including front Brembo brakes. For approximately $136,000, before fees and luxury tax, it would truly be the Ultimate.

