Okay. I know that we should be notionally and nationally Land Rover orientated. Yet, without Jeep, Land Rover would never have existed. The spiritual heartland of wide-open America is writ large in every visible screwhead and stupidly impractical design element of the latest Wrangler but this is the car that inscribed the off-road adventurers’ rule book. What’s not to love?
In 4.3m long Sahara diesel-auto trim it tips the scales at a chunky, cheeseburger-fries-and-double-Coke-eating 1,920kgs. Its boot floor, compromised by an in-built waterproof bass speaker, offers a feeble 203-litres of space. Access to the non-splitting rear seats (just two) is just about ‘child-friendly’, through the passenger side portal, with the roof panels on. Even cabin access for the front pair of seats demands a degree in calisthenics. Lose concentration for a split-second and the Wrangler will have wandered wilfully into another road space. No. It is not perfect but I shall defy you to emerge from the Jeep driving experience without an ear-to-ear smile, chortling a knowing ‘Hell, yeah!’.
Its mildly raucous 2.2-litre turbo-diesel engine develops a worthy 200bhp, allied to a rock-hauling 331lbs ft of torque, which is enough for it to surge from 0-60mph in a mildly alarming 8.6s, before topping out at 112mph. Emitting CO2 at a far from tax-friendly rate of 198g/km, at least its cleansed diesel-glugging rate (aided by AdBlu) is a more modest 37.7mpg. All of this is achieved by driving through a thoroughly modern, eight-speed automatic gearbox.
Coil-sprung all-round and with more combined off-road armoury than an ISIS-bound cruise missile, the latest Jeep Wrangler is also the most capable ever. If you were not aware, EVERY Jeep is required to pass the ‘Rubicon Test’, a self-inflicted destruction-fest that reveals much about the brand’s innate pride, and this model, even on road-biased tyres, passed with flying colours. Pay attention and, apart from the lack of return bias to its steering, its on-road manners are charming, the car possessing a moderately comfortable ride quality and a loping, mile-eating gait.
Its cockpit is a hearty mismatch of semi-luxurious, double-stitched leatherette and naked fibreglass (removable roof-panels), with colourful dashboard contents and the Jeep corporate touchscreen that controls just about everything. When not clashing cranium with purposeful roll-cage, there is enough space for well-judged jaunts but, much beyond short hauls and show-off shopping trips, this car’s real purpose lies in promoting fun, wherever you can get it, a factor not helped by its (pre-discount) list price of £44,865, bolstered by a £1,500 Launch Edition luxury pack and £775 for the Granite Crystal metallic paint finish.
However, as a largely out-of-step example of ex-militaria, the Jeep either takes the biscuit, or fulfils your wildest and most explorative dreams. I make zero apology for stating that I love it to death…but, then, I am not the person buying one.
