2011 Jeep Grand Cherokee

The rocks and desert surrounding Moab, Utah, have seen a lot of things. Dinosaurs hatching, dying, and turning into tar. Mormons fleeing persecution, flourishing, and inspiring a hit HBO show. And Jeeps. Lots and lots and lots of Jeeps. But this is Moab’s first look at the 2011 Jeep Grand Cherokee. Ours, too, at least from behind the wheel.

It’s an eagerly anticipated one, with Chrysler hitting financial rock bottom last year and its new-product pipeline drying up like a desert riverbed under the sweltering summer sun. That makes this Grand Cherokee, the first Jeep product to emerge after the Fiat-Chrysler alliance, a hugely important barometer of vitality and competence for an organization that has displayed little of either for the better part of a decade. The latest Ram and Ram Heavy Duty pickups are good indicators of what Chrysler is still capable of—they’re very good. Hooray for Chrysler, then, that the 2011 Grand Cherokee is good, too.

Based on the same architecture as the current-generation Mercedes-Benz M-class, the Grand Cherokee has thoroughly modern running gear. The live axle of the previous generation was tossed in favor of an independent multilink suspension, and civility has taken a commensurate move upward. Even while losing the stick axle, Jeep calls this “the most capable Grand Cherokee ever.” Helping validate that claim is an optional Land Rover–style terrain-selection system, inventively called Selec-Terrain, as well as three different all-wheel-drive systems and an available air suspension.

We spent the better part of a day scrambling up, over, and around nature on Moab’s Hell’s Revenge and Fins and Things trails, which were thick with lifted Jeep CJs, Toyota FJs, and custom-built off-road beasts. The GC acquitted itself very well, a given considering the trails were custom-picked to showcase the SUV’s abilities. Still, we easily conquered super-steep rock faces, craggy stair climbs, and sandy washouts—all with ventilated seats whirring under our butts. The sweaty driver of the 1975 CJ we saw with no doors and a three-legged dog riding shotgun didn’t know what he was missing. We returned to the trailheads suitably impressed.