Mixed crash test scores, questionable reliability, stiff ride, - 2016 Jeep Wrangler Review
2We test the 75th-anniversary edition if the iconic Wrangler wearing a utilitarian Sarge Green uniform.
Few things in the automotive world have remained consistent for 75 years. In spirit, purpose, and—to an extent—execution, the bloodline of the Jeep Wrangler has done so. The direct descendant of the “GP” military runabout whose production for the U.S. armed forces started in 1941, the 2016 Wrangler remains a preeminent off-roader with an instantly recognizable face, even as it has grown into a larger, heavier, and more comfortable device serving civilians. Jeep marks its icon’s diamond jubilee by offering cushy 75th-anniversary editions of several models. We strapped our test equipment to the coolest of the lot, a Wrangler Unlimited 75th Edition.
The 2016 Wrangler 75th Editions start out as mid-grade Wrangler Sahara models before being loaded up with $4680 worth of extras, most of which could never have been imagined by the factory workers at Ford and Willys as they scrambled to assemble more than half a million GPs between 1941 and 1945. While gear-laden GI’s would have been lucky to sit on anything comfier than a sheetmetal bench while traversing crater-riddled roads in wartime Europe, our test Wrangler boasts heated front seats and a rear bench upholstered in saddle-colored leather and mesh fabric, with red stitching and commemorative logos embossed at shoulder level. The gauge rings, door handles, and air-vent bezels don a metallic bronze color called Moroccan Sun, and the floor is protected by all-weather slush mats. Outside, the 75th Edition gets bronze-hued bumpers and 17-inch wheels, a “power dome” hood, and a specific-to-this-model color option, Sarge Green, which practically makes onlookers stand up and salute.
Our test example came with additional options totaling nearly nine grand. A big chunk of that sum went into the roof—$1785 to swap the Wrangler’s epically complex folding softtop for the three-piece, rigid “Freedom Top,” which was then coated in $1100 worth of Sarge Green paint and padded with a fancy $495 headliner. Another $1350 was added for the five-speed automatic transmission with hill-descent control, while remote start cost another $495. Other options included automatic climate control ($395), a navigation-equipped infotainment system with a 6.5-inch touchscreen ($600), and an audio system with nine Alpine speakers, including an “all-weather” subwoofer under the cargo floor ($945). Finally, our 75th Edition came with a $1500 locking rear differential that’s not available on standard Saharas and also brings 3.73:1 front and rear axle ratios.
The Wrangler is Mini-like in its list of personalization options; as with Mini, ticking every box that strikes your fancy is costly: At $48,630, this one was far and away the most expensive Wrangler we’ve ever tested, and at 4598 pounds, it was also the heaviest by a 13-pound margin.
HIGHS: Jeep charisma, timeless style, off-road dexterity, Sarge Green paint.
If past is prologue—the whole point here—we’d predict that this Wrangler Unlimited 75th Edition would make a poor showing on the track but generate big smiles when driven off-road. Like every Wrangler that has passed through our hands since the model was refreshed for 2012, our test example was powered by FCA’s 3.6-liter V-6 that makes 285 horsepower and 260 lb-ft of torque. Our truck’s optional five-speed automatic transmission (a six-speed manual is standard) is the same unit that was in both Wrangler Unlimited Rubicons that we tested in 2012, one of which emerged victorious in a comparison test against a Mercedes-Benz G550.
True to form—and slightly hamstrung by a green engine—this Wrangler wheezed its way to 60 mph in 8.4 seconds, 0.6 to 0.8 second slower than the aforementioned Rubicons (which had the advantage of 4.10:1 axles) and passed through the quarter-mile mark in 16.6 seconds at 83 mph. Braking from 70 mph required 209 feet, five feet more than both of the Rubicons, and the most it could muster in lateral grip was 0.63 g, splitting the difference between the knobby-tired Rubicons (0.61) and a short-wheelbase Wrangler Sahara (0.65) that we also tested in 2012.
Not only are the numbers modest, but also seeking out this Jeep’s on-road limits can be rather terrifying as speeds and g-forces climb. Our test driver complained of dull, lifeless steering, copious body roll, and a soft brake pedal at our Mojave Desert testing site, all of which became more than theoretical when we struggled to keep pace with him on our journey back to civilization. Granted, we were trying to follow a Porsche 911, but the Wrangler’s exaggerated body motions, intrusive stability control, and tires that always feel underinflated by 10 psi would have made keeping up with a Toyota Sienna a white-knuckle affair. It’s probably a good thing that the stability control steps in early and often, to prevent the driver from overcooking it.