By: Uday Mohan
February 5, 2026
The 2025 Jeep Wrangler Sport S arrived in my driveway in Firecracker Red, a colour that feels bold, loud, and definitely attention-grabbing. Before I even climbed in, I already knew this wasn’t going to be a normal week. The Wrangler has that effect on you. It doesn’t blend in, it doesn’t apologize, and it certainly doesn’t pretend to be something it’s not. It’s a shape that hasn’t really changed since the 1940s, and Jeep knows exactly what it’s doing by keeping it that way. The prison-bar grille, the two big round headlights, and the upright windshield are all here, and the interior even echoes that face with vents placed like eyes and a dashboard silhouette that mirrors the front end. Nostalgia isn’t a theme here; it’s the entire design language.
But nostalgia doesn’t move two tons of steel, and the first thing I noticed was just how much encouragement the 3.6-litre Pentastar V6 needs to get this thing going. Under light throttle, the Wrangler barely acknowledges your request. You really have to lean into the pedal before anything meaningful happens. First through third gear feel like they’re geared for torque, but once you get into fourth and above, the ratios stretch out so far that even in sixth the engine is barely spinning above 1500 rpm. It’s relaxed to the point of feeling half asleep. The manual shifter, tall and long-throw, looks the part and feels like it was designed to mimic the original Jeep experience: light and easy, but not exactly mechanical or engaging. Same story with the clutch. It works, but it doesn’t talk to you.
Inside, the Wrangler plays tricks on your perception. From the outside it looks big, boxy, and ready to swallow gear, but once you’re in the driver’s seat, you realize how close everything is. The dash sits right in front of you, the passenger is practically within elbow-bumping distance, and the lack of a dead pedal reminds you that space is at a premium. Sure, you can push the seats back, but doing that erases whatever rear-seat usability existed in the first place. With four people on board, the cargo area becomes more of a suggestion than a functional space. A grocery run becomes a game of Tetris, and any weekend getaway requires a level of packing discipline normally reserved for backpacking trips.
Then there’s the canvas roof. It flaps, it rustles, and it makes you think a window is open even when everything is sealed. The steering has a surprising amount of play at low speeds, and the headlights, well, let’s just say they feel more like candlelight than modern LEDs. I actually double-checked to make sure they were on, and to my surprise, they were. Meanwhile, the interior lights, when fully turned up, could probably guide aircraft in for landing. It’s a strange contrast, but it fits the Wrangler’s personality: rugged where it matters, quirky everywhere else.
And just when I thought I had the Wrangler figured out, winter decided to throw a plot twist. We got more than 25 centimetres of snow overnight, the kind that turns neighbourhood streets into soft-serve ruts and makes most crossovers curl up and whimper, something I witnessed as I dug the Jeep out from under all that snow. Once cleared, I slipped the Wrangler into 4H and, despite not being on snow tires, it clawed its way off my street and back on again without much fuss. This is where the duality of this thing really shows itself. The Jeep will get you moving when logic says you shouldn’t be moving at all, but it will also remind you of its quirks the entire time. I could make my way through the snow just fine, but I couldn’t see anything out the back because there’s no rear wiper, a consequence of the removable canvas roof. Sure, plenty of cars don’t have rear wipers, but on an SUV you expect one, and not having it takes some getting used to, especially when the weather decides to test your patience.
That snowy morning was the moment it clicked for me: the Wrangler isn’t trying to be a polished daily driver. It’s built for the parts of life that don’t happen on clean pavement or under perfect weather. Once you accept that, the Wrangler makes perfect sense. The manual 4L–2H selector is a refreshing reminder that not everything needs to be controlled by a computer. The Alpine audio system, once you crank it, fills the cabin with enough sound to drown out the roof noise. I can’t help but imagine how different this experience would feel in the summer: roof off, doors off, sun out, music up, coffee run turning into a mini-adventure. That’s when the Wrangler stops being a compromise and starts being a companion.
Because that’s really the point. You don’t buy a Wrangler because it’s the most comfortable, the most refined, or the most practical. You buy it because you want to be part of something. You want the off-roading, the customization, the rock-crawling weekends, the wave from other Jeep owners, and the sense that your vehicle is built for the path less travelled, even if you’re just heading to the mall. The Wrangler will do the daily grind, but it will never let you forget that it wasn’t designed for it. It’s like wearing a suit when you’re happiest in overalls. It’ll play along, but it’s always itching to get dirty.
After a week with it, I still struggle to define the Wrangler in conventional terms, and maybe that’s the point. It’s not a polished SUV. It’s not trying to be. It’s a throwback, a tool, a toy, a symbol, a community, and a commitment. It asks you to accept its quirks in exchange for access to a lifestyle that no other vehicle really offers.
In the end, it’s a lifestyle, not a vehicle.
Vehicle Specs
Segment: Off-road midsize SUV
Powertrain: 3.6-litre V6 Pentastar VVT engine with Stop/Start
Output: 285 horsepower, 260 lb-ft. of torque
Transmission: Six-speed manual
Drivetrain: Part-time four-wheel drive
Fuel Economy (NRCan city/highway/combined): 13.9L/100km / 10.2L/100km / 12.2L/100km
Observed Fuel Economy (Combined): 11.3L/100km
Wheels and Tires: 17-inch aluminum wheels wrapped in 245/75R17 all-terrain tires
Price As Tested: $51,795 + fees + taxes