2017 Jeep Cherokee on 2040-cars

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Land Rover Defender V8 vs. Jeep Wrangler Rubicon 392 | V8 4x4s square off on paper

Land Rover pulled the sheet off its 2022 Defender on Wednesday, introducing another high-performance V8 to the off-road segment. This time, it's a 5.0-liter, supercharged V8 boasting 518 horsepower. It will be available in both the Defender 90 and 110 models. In the former, Land Rover says it can crack off a 0-60 run in just 4.9 seconds on its way to a top speed of 149 mph. The long-wheelbase 110 will be a bit slower, but "slow" probably isn't the right adjective to use here at all.  But Land Rover isn't the only automaker offering a high-performance variant of its off-road SUV. While Jeep may have been sneered at for presenting the 2021 Wrangler Rubicon 392 on the heels of the 2021 Ford Bronco's introduction, it starts to make a lot more sense in this context. There's reportedly a high-output Bronco on the way, too, so call Jeep the dinosaur of the group all you want, but you can't put a price on being first. Well, you can, actually, but that's not the point.  Thankfully, both Land Rover and Jeep have provided enough specs for us to rough out a comparison chart. Since the Rubicon 392 is offered only in four-door guise, we're looking at the long-wheelbase Defender 110 as its direct competitor here. Have a look: There are a few caveats to mention off the top. For starters, we don't have an official curb weight for the V8-powered Defender yet, as Land Rover has not finalized its U.S. specs. We used the European figures (as provided by a spokesperson), which we expect to be accurate within about 50 pounds. The 0-60 time provided by Land Rover was for the Defender 90, which is smaller and somewhat lighter than the 110. When equipped with the inline-6, the Defender 110 is about a tenth of a second slower to 60 than the Defender 90, so we figure it should be roughly the same for the V8.  While the Defender has nearly 50 horsepower on the Wrangler, that advantage disappears thanks to the Land Rover V8's monster weight penalty, which will fall somewhere between 600 and 700 pounds depending on equipment. Yikes. On the flip side, however, the Land Rover has the edge in top speed, and it's not even close. Chalk that up to the tires, we suspect. We know for a fact that the Rubicon 392's all-terrains dictate its speed limiter; Jeep's own engineers told us as much. This could make for a (hypothetically) interesting drag race, as the Jeep's advantage off the line may evaporate once triple digits come into play.

2014 Jeep Compass/Patriot sing their swan songs with a six-speed automatic

Unless the governor, Fiat CEO Sergio Marchionne, gives them a reprieve, the 2014 Jeep Compass and Patriot are expected to meet their makers sometime next year. Should they perish, it's a shame that it would happen just as they've shed the continuously variable transmission that was their major bugbear, and just as the Compass has gotten its best looks yet.
Both will roll with a proper six-speed automatic transmission, courtesy of PowerTech. Noise-resistant gears and tuning by Chrysler boffins should alleviate the unappealing sounds that were given off by the older CVT. Unless, that is, you choose to have either model equipped with Freedom Drive II; the serious off-road package, available on both baby Jeeps, will still come with the CVT. The base transmission on the entry-level Sport trim remains the five-speed manual.
Otherwise, it's minor changes for the Compass, set off by the new 18-inch wheel option, trim pieces around the car and a back-up camera. The Patriot gets seat-mounted airbags, but is carryover otherwise. With their expected demises perhaps a year away, not much has changed otherwise. Engine choices comprise the 2.0-liter four-cylinder with 158 horsepower and 141 pound-feet of torque or the 2.4-liter four-cylinder with 172 hp and 165 lb-ft.

2018 Jeep Wrangler Rubicon Alaska Cannonball | 14,000 miles to Deadhorse and back

I've never delayed big adventure long enough to fill a bucket. But I do have a bucket item that dates to 1992: drive from Deadhorse, Alaska, to Tierra del Fuego, Argentina. Twenty-six years later, it's time. But first, I needed a vehicle. And a Jeep Wrangler was not my first choice. Growing up as a kid in the Midwest, I loved Jeeps. But around 10 years ago I went on a camping trip to Death Valley with a colleague, testing the early JK Wrangler against the competition. By the end of it, I couldn't justify the ergonomic and physical punishment for the admittedly massive capability. So two years ago, I bought a 1994 Toyota Land Cruiser project truck to make the journey. I paid too much, and the Cruiser revealed itself to be not a garage project, but the Manhattan Project. I took this as a good omen. Adventure begins in the deep end, so why wait to get there? During a break from discovering enough gremlins to reboot the movie franchise, I had dinner with Jeep's West Coast PR guy. I mentioned my plans for a six-month overlanding trek to Alaska. He said, "You know, we've got a new Wrangler coming out — that might be a good test of the chassis." My outside voice said, "That would be interesting." My inside voice said, "Hmmm." Anything's possible after 10 years, right? I might like it. Might. Many plans have gone awry on the way to this moment. It's taken more than a year to lock in a start date, because Jeep couldn't spare a Wrangler Rubicon. Everyone else in America keeps buying them. A suitable Wrangler was found eventually, but now the deed had to be done in three months, not six. What was going to be a comfortably-paced, backwoods roll up to Alaska and back has turned into the Rubicon Overland Cannonball. I know 14 weeks is plenty of time to drive to the Arctic and back. (Tierra del Fuego is officially off the itinerary.) However, the point of this trip is to fit in as much dirt, as many bucket-list trails, and all the wild America possible. That means my route's about 14,000 convoluted miles of criss-crossing the country in all the cardinal directions. And that's assuming everything goes to plan. Until last week, I was doing this trip with a friend from college who lives in Marietta, Georgia. He was the photo/video guy. Then he had a medical emergency, so the only trip he's taking is to the OR and rehab. Now I'm going by myself, and I think it's important to point out that I have no idea what I'm doing. That isn't modesty, that's truth: zero clue.