2009 Jeep Wrangler Rubicon: Daily Driver, meet Weekend Warrior.

The world is conspiring against the fast cars. In a tragically ironic twist of fate, the fastest and most capable cars the world has ever known have been birthed into a world filled with exorbitant fuel prices and enough anti-speeding legislation to make OJ Simpson’s defense team spin. So, while you peruse these glossy pages filled with high-zoot automobiles equipped with more horses than the Kentucky Derby, when it comes time plunk down your very own hard-earned greenery, chances are that you’ll spend more time musing over fuel economy figures than horsepower curves. But that doesn’t mean that you have to throw yourself in front of the bus that’s headed to no-fun-driving town.

A quick lesson in psychology: you don’t like things; you like the sensations those things create. Driving fast creates sensations that cause your brain to secrete pleasurable chemicals. If you can find a way to secrete those same chemicals in a legal and less expensive manner, you will have arrived at a replacement for fast cars. Combine this little nugget of information with the previously discussed reality check, and you arrive at this: the Jeep Wrangler Rubicon. How, you ask? Well, because it’s the first vehicle I’ve ever tested that has driven me to sell my own personal car.

Once a proponent of horsepower and speed, it took no more than a single week aboard a Rubicon to convince me of the magical effect roofless, doorless driving has on a person. Sure, it has a reasonably powerful and yet surprisingly thrifty V6 that propels it up to and even past (gasp!) some local speed limits, and yes it’s definitely comfortable enough for daily commuting, but the enjoyment that can be by simply removing the roof and lifting the doors off easily catapulted the Jeep’s fun factor past even such exotica as the Audi R8, for while the R8 was lauded for residing at the pinnacle of practical performance, I conjecture that the Wrangler is in fact more fun and eminently more practical. The latter is hardly an argument, for while any road trip in the R8 requires its two occupants be comfortable with both each other and a tiny trunk, the Jeep requires no such relationship. Should a fight break out, peacekeeping is as easy as relegating the obstinate party to any one of the other four seats available. And should the fight be carried out to a bitter and oh-so-very-Sopranos-esque end, the Rubicon has a capacious cargo compartment that can easily swallow even the largest cooler. Likewise, while the Jeep will undoubtedly be found miles astern of the R8 on any road, there’s certainly places where the Jeep can leave the R8 behind; namely, everywhere that isn’t on a road. Boasting ultra-short gearing, and a beefy transfer case, the Wrangler already starts off as a pretty capable little trail truck, but with the additional locking front and rear differentials and electronic disconnecting sway bar of the Rubicon, it’s nigh unstoppable.

But exploring the world that exists off the beaten path is only half of the Rubicon’s Recipe of Fun. On a warm summer’s day, with not enough spare time to explore British Columbia’s amazing network of forestry roads and off-road trails, I spent fifteen minutes removing both the roof and doors of my Rubicon test vehicle. Staring at the white lines flashing literally beneath my foot as I cruised along the highway, it occurred to me that I’d never had as much fun in a vehicle with the cruise control set to the speed limit. Picking up a coupe friends before heading down a local deactivated forestry service road that circumnavigates a local lake, the Rubicon’s coil spring suspension proved far smoother over the rutted and potholed road than the various leaf spring trucks I’d driven down the same road. Likewise, those leaf-spring and load-bearing tire equipped trucks were brought to a standstill at a particular stretch of road that peters out into a rock-strewn washout followed by some severe drainage rutting that would high center a longer vehicle. Engaging the locking differentials, disconnecting the swaybar, and airing down the tires to provide purchase, the short wheelbase Rubicon slithered over the rocks and came through the ruts with plenty of room under the thick skidplates over the crown of the ruts. That said, the relatively long overhang of the front bumper did provide for a few sharp intakes of breath, especially given it’s relatively easily damaged plastic skin. Given the off-road preparation of the remainder of the vehicle, it’s odd that Jeep hasn’t fitted something slightly more rugged. Likewise, while the big plastic bumpers may be easily replaceable, but one can’t help but look at them and consider how much wheelwell room a set of flat, Willys-esque fenders would free up for bigger tires and increased wheel travel. Reaching the north end of the lake, a deserted mill town rose out of the brush completely unpredicted. Obviously earning closer inspection, the town had been abandoned for at least 80 years, although the site was in fantastic shape, with four residences intact and one mill building remaining. The forest had reclaimed the remainder. Turning around and heading back the way we’d come, the Rubicon’s fuel gauge still read half full, even with extensive use of the 4:1 low range transfer case.

Erupting back onto pavement three hours later, unlocking the diffs and reconnecting the sway bar, the smooth ride of the Rubicon felt, to be honest, broken. After being jounced around for an entire day, the magic carpet ride provided by the pavement was eerily good! The entire ride home along the Trans-Canada highway was windblown and warm, and although we were burning between two and four more litres of fuel for every 100 kilometers traversed than the hordes of Civics, Mazda3s, and Corollas passing by, the additional cost was well worth it. The seed had been sown.

And thus, two weeks later, my own car was up for sale to fund the purchase of a vehicle along same vein as my memorable Rubicon. And while the proceeds of the sale may force me to compromise with something perhaps a little older, slower, and less reliable, I won’t have a problem with that. So long as I can once again enjoy the view of the trees passing by without a roof or doors to get in my way.