Same Name, but Gentler in Attitude

FREDERICK, MD. — “But is it a Jeep?”

The cry goes up every time a new model appears from the venerable marque, so no doubt the marketers at Fiat Chrysler knew what they were provoking when they went a big step further in resurrecting the Cherokee nameplate for their new midlevel Jeep.

It was a risk, starting with the look. Few American vehicles are as recognizable as the old Cherokee, which ended a 17-year run in 2001 but still commands passionate devotion among its many owners. That Cherokee combined the sharp angles, seven-slot grille and off-road prowess of the classic CJ Jeep with the convenience of a station wagon to create what Robert Cumberford, the automotive design critic at Automobile magazine, proclaimed “possibly the best S.U.V. shape of all time.”

The 2014 Jeep Cherokee Trailhawk in Deep Cherry Red that I recently drove would have trouble living up to that claim. Viewed from the side, its soft edges looked a tad generic, though the brand’s signature trapezoidal wheel openings and chunky tires kept it respectable.

Meeting it head-on for the first time, however, was a bit of a shock, with three squinty lines of lamps (running lights, headlights and fog lights) bracketing the trademark slotted grille and a broad grinning opening below the bumper. It takes a bit of getting used to.

Before I go on, full disclosure: I’ve owned a ’96 Cherokee for many years and have a deep emotional tie to it, even though a lot of its green paint has peeled off, it left me to spend a night in the woods when some of its wiring melted and it is tricky to maneuver on pavement because of the huge tires I installed last summer.

Look, it makes me feel good, especially when we churn fearlessly along a flooded, deeply rutted, rock-strewn Quebec logging trail in the Laurentians with a couple of kayaks strapped to the conveniently low roof, in search of big bass.

In the end, it’s not the look, but mountain-goat sure-footedness that makes a Jeep a Jeep. The Cherokee Trailhawk carries the Trail Rated designation, which is Jeep-speak for real cred in five aspects of off-roading — traction, ground clearance, maneuverability, articulation and water fording. So off we drove to the Catoctin ridge in northern Maryland in search of bad roads.

Granted, Catoctin Mountain ain’t Moab, the mecca for off-roaders in Utah, but we crept up some pretty steep trails, bumping over logs and rocks and slithering through mud with no complaining or creaking from the Jeep. My main plaint was the curtailed visibility over the rounded hood and through the high rear window, which I coped with by raising the driver’s seat as high as it would go.

The 3.2-liter V6, with 271 horsepower and 239 pound-feet of torque, was quiet and had plenty of power, especially in the crawl ratios, though I missed the instant kick of the old Cherokee’s in-line 6 — a factor, perhaps, of the more refined 2014 model being more than 1,000 pounds heavier. The hill descent system was an especially fun feature, in the way roller coasters are nail-bitingly fun, keeping speed in check down one long, badly rutted hill. At the bottom, though, a vehicle marked Volunteer Sheriff slowed for a look — maybe it was the shock of the front end styling, or maybe we were close to Camp David.

Then we came upon an almost vertical hillock strewn with boulders under wet leaves. Three times I tried, engaging various electronic off-road aids — the low range with locking differential, the Selec-Terrain system that let me choose among Auto, Snow, Sport, Sand-Mud and Rock — but I never did crest that hill. There was a lot of very energetic back-and-forthing among the front and rear wheels, but not enough to put us over the top.

To be honest, I have no doubt that with a running start and the pedal closer to the floor the ’Hawk would have made it. But this is a problem with luxurious S.U.V.’s like the Cherokee: Many, no doubt, have the wherewithal to take abuse, but few actively invite it the way old Jeeps do. I just wouldn’t feel right ramming a shiny new vehicle through conditions that have so deeply and nobly scarred my old XJ.

Which brings up a second point: Not many shoppers would buy a crossover if their specific intention was roughing it up. The first design proposals of the XJ date to 1978, and it arrived in showrooms in 1984, ages before sport utility vehicles gave way to car-based models like the Toyota RAV4 or the Honda CR-V and became one of the most competitive segments of the market.

Today, buyers of these tamer, more civilized S.U.V. successors are really looking for a comfortable station wagon with a bit of attitude and some extra traction, not an agricultural implement. Those who long for a true successor to the XJs of old would probably be best served by a four-door Jeep Wrangler Unlimited.

My wife underscored this reality when I put the Big Question to her: So, is the Trailhawk a true Cherokee? “Thank God, no,” said she, poking the 8.4-inch display to turn up the seat warmer under the supple and elegantly stitched brown leather of the front passenger seat.

That sums up the challenge faced by Chrysler and its Fiat owners when plotting a replacement for the Jeep Liberty, the discontinued (and little-mourned) successor to the XJ: to produce a crossover that could compete with the likes of the RAV4 and CR-V for the suburban market — and still get some respect from the Cherokee nation.

Their answer, in effect, was to make one of every flavor, starting with a front-wheel-drive Sport model at $23,990 for entry-level suburban duty, and working their way through three 4-wheel-drive systems, two engines (a 4 and a V6) and three levels of equipment to the stand-alone Trail Rated Trailhawk, at $30,490 and up. That’s a lot more range than the competition offers.

Transforming a front-wheel-drive crossover into an off-road contender required, first of all, bolting in Jeep’s most sophisticated drive system, called Jeep Active Drive Lock II, which incorporates a low range and locking rear differential. To that, Jeep added the Selec-Terrain system, hill descent and ascent control, an off-road suspension with an extra inch of ground clearance, skid plates shielding the vulnerable chassis underpinnings, bright red functional tow hooks front and aft, all-terrain tires, provisions for wading through 20-inch-deep water and a singular look expressed in a hood painted flat-black, special wheels and different fascias front and rear.

I drove only the Trailhawk with an optional 3.2-liter V6. With a power liftgate, remote start, backup camera, heated seats and steering wheel, power-adjustable seats and some other extras, the sticker price was $36,120. The E.P.A. rates fuel consumption at a decent 18 miles per gallon in town and 25 highway, and that’s about what we got with the hills and all.

The interior of the Trailhawk is hard to fault. It’s quiet, the surfaces are high rent, the leather beautifully stitched, the controls intuitive and where you want them to be. Storage compartments abound, including a generous one under the passenger seat cushion.

Despite the off-road suspension, the ride, whether cruising on the highway or meandering on paved mountain roads, was serene and smooth. It would have been nice to add a few all-terrain touches inside, like a grab handle on the A-pillar for the passenger, but there were multiple hooks and nets in the back to secure gear.

The main nit I had was that the Cherokee seemed a bit slow to react to the accelerator, especially when reaching for a lower gear to gain speed. All Cherokees share a 9-speed automatic transmission, and there were reports that the introduction of the model was delayed to give Chrysler engineers more time to tailor the transmission to all the engines and drive systems.

Is it a Jeep? I say yes. The Cherokee Trailhawk is a nice, competent and comfortable entry that can also romp with real 4-by-4s.

Is it a worthy successor to the Cherokee? Well, it is definitely not the old XJ, for better and for worse, and I doubt it will ever replace the emotional bonds that icon commanded. And it will take a few years to see whether that funny face and car-based chassis will hold up in the real world.