The 2018 Jeep Wrangler Rubicon: America’s True Expedition Vehicle

’18 Jeep Wrangler Rubicon

Are you a whiner like me?

That is, do you constantly compare the 4×4 models foreign manufacturers ship here with the serious expedition vehicles they sell in Africa, South America, or Australia—regions they obviously view as being worthy of tougher machines than we need in the soft, paved country club of the world?

Toyota sends us the sybaritic 200-series Land Cruiser loaded with leather and touch-screen entertainment; everyone else gets the legendary 70-series Troop Carrier and its ute (pickup) derivative—the indestructible choice of safari guides, NGOs, and numerous insurgent groups. (Online legends claiming the pickup can be ordered directly from Toyota with a pedestal-mounted 12.7mm machine gun are probably untrue.) The mighty Mercedes G-Wagen? Same thing—here it’s rarely seen far from gated communities, in the developing world it’s got cloth seats and hose-out rubber floor mats. And the grandaddy of all expedition vehicles, the late Land Rover Defender 110, was only imported here in a brief 500-unit spurt that has kept residuals sky high. Otherwise it’s . . . leather and touch-screen entertainment in a Discovery or Range Rover.

Just what do I mean by “expedition vehicle?” In one sense I could argue it’s any vehicle taken on an expedition. After all, just last December a couple and their four-year-old daughter reached the Canadian Arctic town of Tuktoyaktuk, 200 miles north of the Arctic Circle, in a ‘85 Citroën 2CV with a two-cylinder engine and 29 hp. They then continued on their journey around the world . . .

Realistically, though, an expedition vehicle is one designed from the factory to endure extended service on poor or non-existent roads, where outside mechanical help might be days and hundreds of miles away, and where the niceties of leather and touch screens—not to mention lane monitoring, air suspension, 20-inch wheels—become liabilities. Reliability is of critical importance, along with its corollary, durability. Major components should be as simple, rugged, and serviceable as possible, which means a separate, fully boxed chassis, and solid axles front and rear with substantial internals. Superior four-wheel-drive capability is desirable, but just as necessary is a high GVWR, to accommodate equipment and supplies for extended no-resupply routes. An enclosed passenger/cargo area is generally preferred to a pickup, for security and weather sealing. Sufficient space for that cargo, or extra passengers, means a medium to longish wheelbase—and the roofline of such a vehicle makes it possible to install a pop-top conversion, turning it into a compact, all-terrain camper. Yet too large and the vehicle will be unwieldy in developing-world cities and on narrow bush tracks. It should be easy to mount a chassis-supported winch bumper, a snorkel to keep the air intake above road dust, and bolted-in tie-downs in the rear compartment to secure cargo. Factory-supplied auxiliary fuel tanks are a bonus.

“REALISTICALLY, THOUGH, AN EXPEDITION VEHICLE IS ONE DESIGNED FROM THE FACTORY TO ENDURE EXTENDED SERVICE ON POOR OR NON-EXISTENT ROADS, WHERE OUTSIDE MECHANICAL HELP MIGHT BE DAYS AND HUNDREDS OF MILES AWAY…”

Speaking of fuel: Of course all those ROW (Rest of World) expedition vehicles are also available with efficient diesel engines, which produce better torque for slow, rough road conditions, better fuel economy for those no-resupply routes, and which pose a much lower fire hazard when spare fuel is carried in jerry cans.

Until not that long ago I was among the worst of the whiners, especially since I’ve been lucky enough to accumulate a fair amount of experience in those unobtanium expedition vehicles. I’ve driven Land Cruiser Troopies in Egypt’s sand seas and Australia’s Simpson Desert, led safaris in Kenya and Tanzania in Defenders— even drove a brilliant turbodiesel Nissan Navara across South America—and I was convinced that nothing we could get from the U.S. could match what we couldn’t get.

That began to change in 2009, when I spent a year and 35,000 miles with a new Jeep Wrangler Rubicon Unlimited for a long-term magazine review. I had long looked at Jeeps as iffy for anything but weekend trail runs— while eminently capable, past issues with frame cracks, weak axles, broken steering-box mounts, and the like, which had spawned entire companies dealing in aftermarket fixes, kept them out of the expedition-capable category as far as I was concerned.

But this Rubicon Unlimited was an entirely different beast. Its fully boxed chassis was rigid enough to take constant abuse, the solid Dana 44 axles had no weak links, and with a 4:1 transfer case, supple all-coil suspension, front and rear driver-selectable differential locks, and a driver-selectable front anti-roll-bar discon- nect (not, as the button claimed, a “sway bar” disconnect), the Rubicon’s prowess on the most difficult trails quite frankly surpassed every one of those “serious expedition vehicles.”

There was enough room inside for an extended trip’s worth of gear, although the 950-pound load limit paled in comparison with, say, the 70-series Land Cruiser Troop Carrier, which boasts a 2,100-pound rating and a rear cargo area large enough to return echoes. I was also unimpressed with the Jeep’s 3.8L V-6, which offered neither a surplus of power nor decent fuel economy. Nevertheless, here, I felt, was an American vehicle that could go head to head with the world’s finest and not be embarrassed. Several years later I reviewed another Rubicon Unlimited, this time with the hugely improved 3.6L Pentastar engine and automatic gearbox, and my initial impressions became conviction.

When FCA announced a completely redesigned Wrangler for 2018, recent converts including me joined long-time disciples in wondering what the new vehicle would be like. Ugly rumors abounded: The new Wrangler would have independent front suspension—no, it would have all-independent suspension, and unibody construction as well. Heavy anticipatory drinking ensued, until photos of scarcely disguised test vehicles began to appear, making it clear the new model would be built as God intended Wranglers to be—separate frame, solid axles front and rear. The sun would still rise in the East. In fact, the “new” Wrangler looked so much like the old one that speculation—my own at least—abruptly switched to doubts that enough could have been changed to justify the hype.

Not to worry. As I listened through the press introduction of the JL Wrangler at a swank resort outside Tucson, Arizona, it became clear that the engineers had made a few styling tweaks (largely to achieve a nine-percent reduction in drag), then concentrated 90 percent of their efforts on actual functional improvements, in direct contradiction to accepted new-model practice. The list was exhaustive:

• The chassis—still fully boxed of course— now comprises 80 percent high-strength steel. It is 18 percent more torsionally rigid than the previous chassis, yet lighter.
• The hood, doors, hinges, and windshield frame are now made from aluminum. The rear swing gate frame is magnesium. Overall weight savings is claimed to be 200 pounds on the four-door Unlimited.
• The Rubicon’s already stout Dana 44 axles have been further strengthened. Crawl ratio on the Rubicon is now 77:1 with the auto transmission, and an astounding 84:1 with the manual.
• Despite (or because of) a 2.4-inch longer wheelbase, the Rubicon Unlimited has improved approach and departure angles. Even the ramp breakover is said to be improved. Fording depth is an excellent 30 inches.
• Despite the longer wheelbase, the turning circle has been shortened by a foot. Electro-hydraulic steering is now standard.
• An optional front bumper is winch-compatible and has removable side sections to enhance clearance.
• The Rubicon’s wheels remain at an unfashionably small 17 inches, which allows a higher tire sidewall which is better for trail use and airing down.

There was more, but you get the picture. Not one of the improvements I just listed would be visible on a casual walk-around.

Once in the driver’s seat, I could see several worthwhile changes, especially the relocated (and hugely simplified) diff lock and “sway bar” buttons. One thing hadn’t changed, however: the Rubicon’s ability to effortlessly conquer a driving course that had several journalists, peering though the upper portion of the windshield, saying, “We’re going up that?” Nothing I’ve driven can match the Rubicon for sheer 4×4 prowess.

“…THE RUBICON’S STRENGTHS, WHICH BESIDES THE HEAVY DOSE OF MOUNTAINGOAT GENES INCLUDE BETTER ERGONOMICS AND ON-ROAD HANDLING, COMBINE TO MAKE THE PODIUM OF ALL-TIME GREAT EXPEDITION VEHICLES…”

Is it a perfect expedition vehicle? Of course not—no vehicle is. The new Rubicon’s GVWR has not improved, and lags far behind its international competition. Cargo volume is also inferior to the Troopy/G-Wagen/Defender trio. You’ll have to pack carefully while your friend in the 70-series Land Cruiser is casually tossing in fridges and reclining camp chairs. But the Rubicon’s strengths, which besides the heavy dose of mountain-goat genes include better ergonomics and on-road handling, combine to make the podium of all-time great expedition vehicles a foursome rather than a trio.

Oh, one other thing. Remember my note about diesel engines? At long last, FCA has confirmed there will be a turbodiesel option for the Wrangler, probably in 2019. That engine, most likely a 3L V-6 mated to the superb 8-speed ZF transmission, will represent a new dimension of usable power, enhanced fuel economy, and expedition safety that will further solidify the Wrangler’s position among the elite of its kind.

So let’s salute the Jeep Wrangler Rubicon Unlimited—America’s own world-class expedition vehicle.

And no more whining!

2018 Jeep Wrangler Rubicon

ENGINE: 3.6L V6 24V VVT ENGINE W/ ESS

DRIVETRAIN: 3RD GENERATION DANA 44 HD WIDE AXLES, 4.10 AXLE GEAR RATIO, TRU-LOK FRONT AND REAR AXLES

WHEELS & TIRES: 33-INCH BFGOODRICH KO2, JEEP 17” X 7.5” POLISHED WHEELS W / BLACK POCKETS

MSRP: $40,495 (4-DOOR), $36,995 (2-DOOR)

URL: JEEP.COM