2011 Jeep Cherokee: Purposeful Perfection

There is but one single thing that separates successful brands from unsuccessful brands in the automotive industry: a purpose. When you examine brands at their best and at their worst, you see them at the height of their purpose, and dwindling into the purposeless existence that precedes bankruptcy, respectively. Consider, for example, the story of Pontiac. At its height, Pontiac was permitted little more than the ability to successfully fulfill its role as a GM’s youthful, exciting brand with vehicles like the immortal GTO and Trans Am. But as the decades wore on, and General Motors rescinded Pontiac’s excitement order, sales dwindled. Trans Ams became Grand Ams became Aztecs became bankruptcy. But that’s not a feat that Jeep has ever even so much as flirted with. A brand fired in the crucible of war with a name that emerged from but a single vehicle, Jeep has been forced to maintain strict adherence to their tried and tested platform of producing rugged, simple, go-anywhere vehicles, and although today’s Wrangler has certainly taken the prototypical Jeep layout to new heights, it remains true to its purpose and thus, popular. The same cannot be said for the Cherokee. 

Having grown in both mass and complexity over the past few years, the problem with the last couple of Cherokees can once again be attributed to a lack of purpose. As Jeep engineers struggled to marry the luxurious qualities of a modern SUV with the bush-busting attitude that Jeep has built their reputation on, buyers and critics alike balked at the notion of a quasi-luxury full-size SUV riding on highway-biased tires, affixed to solid axles, beneath cabins equipped with rear seat entertainment systems. In short, the Cherokee was suffering a serious identity crisis, the likes of which would have left Donald Trump’s hairline feeling pretty confident in itself. Note the use of the past tense terminology. 

Because if there’s one thing this new Cherokee isn’t lacking, it’s identity. It knows precisely what it is, and so will you within about seven seconds of setting foot inside it: a full blown luxury SUV. Gone is the expansive (not expensive – decidedly not so, in fact) plastic swath that constituted the dashboard, AWOL is the hideous steering wheel, and best of all, so too the terribly textured rubber upholstery that was masquerading as “leather.” Instead, there are cosseting and supportive seats wrapped in a much better rendition of leather, and a dashboard that’s as nice to look at as it is to touch. That’s because it’s very pleasantly sculpted, and adorned with resplendently soft leather, replete with stitching. That’s a feature that I’ve only seen in Cayennes and Range Rovers. And it isn’t really carried out any better in those vehicles than it is in here. 

And then of course there’s the features. Testing the loaded-to-the-gills Overland edition, I was surprised to find everything from heated and cooled seats to a heated steering wheel to a terrain response dial all mounted within easy reach from the commanding driver’s seat. In fact, given the equipment set found within the Overland, I again found myself struggling to find competition for the big Jeep on this side of a Porsche/Land Rover dealer. But while I wouldn’t consider using a Cayenne’s heated wheel to warm my digits after anything more strenuous than a day on the slopes, the Jeep’s features seem to be quite well suited towards off-roading, and all the things that go along with it. Take, for example, the carpets. While a Cayenne’s thick piles may be luxurious, they’re also possibly the most difficult carpets to clean. Conversely, a day spent at a sublime, sandy, fog-covered lake shore accessible only by a 20 minute muddy footpath with two fishing buddies was easily erased by 15 minutes with the vacuum. And whilst returning from said fishing trip, such features as a power liftgate, a heated second row seat, a 120-volt power inverter, remote starting, and a massive trunk came in pretty handy, too.

Likewise, the four wheel drive system, although now driving through a fully independent suspension system (more on that later though), features an electronically locking rear differential, a proper two-speed transfer case, and the aforementioned electronic terrain dial that allows the vehicle’s stability, traction, throttle, power delivery, and suspension settings to be tailored to the ground underfoot. And having witnessed the Cherokee haul its impressive bulk up some particularly steep and slick trails barely wider than the truck itself, I have a lot of faith in that computers’ ability. On rain-swept roads carpeted with the particularly slippery softball-sized rocks that characterize the geology of BC’s annual spring thaw, the Cherokee excelled where even feet failed, as one particularly small-bladdered fishing buddy found out. Whirring, clunking, and clicking its way up and down (thank the Lord for hill descent, by the way) every hill I could find, it was simply indomitable in BC’s backwoods. 

But unlike the Wrangler, which can do all this and more, the Cherokee doesn’t travel back in time with each mile on the highway. Quite on the contrary, in fact; with that new fully independent suspension system and the great Hemi underhood, it churns through the miles in great leaping bounds. It’s smooth, it’s quiet, and feels remarkably stable even in terrible conditions, making it a great car for Canadians forced to endure hundreds of kilometers atop snow-filled winter highways and ridiculously dusty, arid summer roads. And when the asphalt crumbles and turns to dirt, it doesn’t pause. Well equipped to handle pretty much any task you happen across, it is in an ironic way, everything a Jeep needs to be. Sure, it’s soft, cushy, and complex… in other words, everything you never expected a Jeep to be, but it’s decisive in its existence and almost perfect in its execution. And this is precisely why you can expect this new Cherokee, alongside the inching-closer-to-perfection-every-day Wrangler, to carry Jeep into success for the next decade.