No modern vehicle eschews modernization more than the Wrangler, especially the two-door variant. In an off-roading landscape that increasingly favors large, luxe overlanders with trick tech and all the comforts of home, the Wrangler soldiers on with two doors, two solid axles, and recirculating ball steering. Base models have a folding cloth roof, a stickshift, and crank windows, for God’s sake.
The 2024 Wrangler was bestowed
The Wrangler is widely known as a handful at highway speeds, especially with its short two-door wheelbase. It won’t win any awards for ride comfort either. (A three-mile jaunt on I-5 confirmed this.) This truck, in Rubicon X guise, is $64,905 as delivered, gets an EPA-rated 21 miles per gallon from its turbo four-cylinder, and can fit about three shopping bags in the trunk when the rear seats are being used. If I applied traditional car-reviewer math to this truck, it would not add up.
Despite this, the Wrangler is an American cult classic, an alien phenomenon to those who have never experienced Jeep Life. The common refrain of owners is that “it’s a Jeep thing.” Without driving one, you’ll never understand.
There’s decent evidence supporting their case, too: Wranglers hold resale values better than virtually any other 4×4 truck on the market, and since the current-generation JL Wrangler was introduced in 2018, Jeep’s sold 1,288,099 of them—roughly 50% more sales than the Toyota 4Runner over the same period. I’ve never had enough hands-on time with a Wrangler to grasp their appeal, but I do love to go off-roading.
Even if I didn’t get “the Jeep thing,” I’d probably still have a good time.
The Jeep arrived exactly the way an irrational car-loving 29-year-old would want it. Two doors—check. Rubicon trim with 35-inch BFGoodrich K02s, electronically-disconnecting front sway bar, Dana axles, lockers front and rear—check. High Velocity Yellow—check. I made one last special request: Hold the doors and roof.
Jeep set me up with a set of Mopar tube doors, mirrors, and mesh covers ($1,463 at a dealership), unbolted the roof, and told me to go have fun. When the Wrangler arrived at my apartment, I giggled with glee. In this spec, it looked like a cartoon drawing of a Jeep given physical form. Delightful.
Of course, I immediately ran into some practical issues. I don’t have covered parking at my downtown Seattle apartment, and thunderstorms were forecast for the weekend I had the Jeep. I had to get out of town quickly to avoid the rain—the Wrangler’s interior is water-resistant, not water-proof.
I rapidly assembled a loose collection of ideas that I referred to as a “plan,” of which it was…