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I was driving one of the heaviest of the heavy-duties, the 2001 GMC Sierra 2500HD 4WD. I wanted respect. I fired up the truck’s 300-horsepower V-8 engine and headed southwest through Virginia toward the Tennessee border.

My tension decreased as my distance from the city increased. My blood pressure dropped. Maybe it was the rhythm of the open road, the way traffic moves when it’s moving apace, the intricate choreography of vehicles braking and accelerating, jockeying for position.

At least that’s what I was thinking.

I felt at home rolling along Interstate 81 in a big ol’ truck — quite different from the way I felt in Northern Virginia and the District.

There, I was greeted with the ignoble digital salute, even though I was on my best behavior behind the wheel. I signaled when turning, obeyed all stop signs and red lights, and prepared to stop on yellow. I gave other drivers plenty of space, staying off their tails, doing my utmost not to offend.

Yet, on numerous occasions, irate motorists in smaller vehicles sped around me, cut me off. One such driver did the finger thing when I slammed on the Sierra 2500HD’s power four-wheel-disc brakes to avoid crushing his rear.

I seemed to be in violation of some de facto law: “Do not drive big trucks in urban areas unless you are engaged in construction or commerce. Failure to obey is punishable by rudeness from other motorists.”

Enough was enough. I turned the truck around, picked up Interstate 66 going west before hooking up with I-81 moving south, where I and the truck were treated kindly and where the truck, at several stops, was outright admired.

In Staunton, Va., for example, some gas-station attendants gathered around the Sierra 2500HD making comments about its styling and asking questions about the “feel” of its new independent front suspension system.

I answered in the manner of a neophyte. Real truck people hate it when you pretend to know more than you know. It’s best to ask them what they think instead. Mostly the truck types liked the test model, though some complained about its “soft” exterior styling, referring to the new Sierra 2500HD’s rounded appearance.

Others praised the layout of the truck’s five-passenger cabin. The Sierra 2500HD has four doors, and they liked that, too. Nearly all of the truck people — people who routinely buy trucks — said they liked the idea that the test truck wasn’t, as one of them put it, a “toy.” The “toy” comment revealed a new schism in truckology. You’ve got your truck lovers and truck haters. But among your truck lovers, you’ve got your “real” truckers and the people they call “fakers.”

The “fakers,” according to the keepers of the faith, are those truck people who want “toys,” such as the highly styled Ford Explorer Sport Trac or Chevrolet Avalanche — sport-utility pickups designed to appeal to young buyers.

Detractors berate the short cargo beds (about five feet lon g) and the please-don’t-scratch-me paint jobs and exterior body graphics on the “toys.”

By comparison, “serious trucks,” such as the Sierra 2500HD, have cargo beds stretching six feet to a bit more than eight feet, and the appearances of their bodies seem to improve with a dent or two.

I take no sides in that debate, and took none during my journeys in the Sierra 2500HD. I just wanted to drive in peace, to be friendly, to offer and receive respect. I mean, heck, why can’t we all just get along?