I tend to buy new, and keep long. My last car was bought new, lasted 15 years and over 225,000 miles. Nothing major, original rings and valve seats. And it is still running strong for its second owner with 35,000+ more miles. That was a Honda. And this is a Jeep. I like reliability. We shall see.
Grand Cherokees seem to last long. Maybe it’s confirmation bias but now that I drive one I notice them all over. The 1st-gen, ZJ, was from 1993-1998 and I see them on the road all the time. And the other gens too, WJ and WK. With the Diesel engine I’d love to get half a million miles and more on my WK2. Only time will tell. I plan to post if that happens, or if it becomes time to put a bullet in its head prematurely. I’ll fess up if that happens.
Yeah yeah guys, I get it. If it ain’t a CJ then it ain’t a real Jeep. I get that. And this is coming from a retired Marine who drove the old M151s (and the old M998s too). And the YJ, TJ, and even the JK pilots dish that out too. Fair enough. But I hit the trails pretty seriously in my WK2. Seriously, that is for its factory stock suspension. Is it as capable as a stock Rubicon JK? No, but it’s pretty capable. This WK2 can do some pretty wild things, especially with the rear ELSD. As I get older, I’ll take it. I’ve always wanted a Jeep, and this baby is so cushy and luxurious and the wife loves that. Me too, no doubt. And I can cruise down the highway at 90+ MPH all day long, especially with the Diesel and its long range. (There’s a lot of open range land here out west, and on the highways there’s a whole lotta nuthin’ between small towns. 90 MPH and the WK2 is barely breaking a sweat, it’ll do that all day long. In quiet comfort.)
As we’re on the trails I see the young couples in their Wrangler types. Sometimes the guy’s young lady is quite attractive. Hot weather, skimpy shorts and all that. I almost want to pull up next to her side, roll down my window, turn down the XM radio and the A/C, and ask,
*“Pardon me, but do you have any Grey Poupon?”
“And just WTF is that?”*, I imagine his response might be, as he clears the grit from his teeth and sees me admiring his passenger.
And then she turns to him and says, “Hey, why can’t I ride in that?”
My imagination can be pretty good at times. As I like to say, I am a legend in my own mind. 