I Took Our Lifted Nissan Murano CrossCabriolet Off-Road And It Impressed Everyone

This week, Griffin and I are driving 3,400 miles across America in the Autopian‘s Nissan Murano CrossCabriolet to take part in the Lemons Rally in Texas. Nissan’s most ignored crossover has been a surprisingly awesome steed across our first 500-mile leg from Los Angeles. Yesterday, we drove this Murano to a place where it probably has never been before and took it rock crawling in Sedona, Arizona. The awesome part? The CrossCab was so good off-road it impressed everyone, even me. Welcome to Day 2 of CrossCab CrossCountry CabCross CountryCab.

On Monday, we drove about 500 miles from Los Angeles to just south of Flagstaff, Arizona, where we got acquainted with our steed for the week. Yesterday was all about getting the CrossCab dirty and scratched up. We put a lift kit, Vredestein Pinza AT tires, and Ford Mustang wheels on this thing, so of course, we had to take it off-road.

We actually had no idea how this was going to go. The CrossCab has all-wheel drive, but it doesn’t even pretend to be off-road capable. Sure, the CrossCab looks mean on its chunky tires and lift kit, but would it be any good?

To answer that question, Griffin and I hit the trails around Sedona with a recovery Jeep going along for the ride. Our main trail of the day was Schnebly Hill. Then, we went to Broken Arrow and attempted the Devil’s Staircase. Sadly, we started our day way too late to have a reader meetup, which is sad.

Once we reached the beginning of the trail, Griffin hopped out of the CrossCab and into the Jeep, while I dropped the CrossCab’s top down. If you’ve been following our stories on the CrossCab, you know that our example has a roof that’s absolutely on its last legs. But I wasn’t about to go wheeling on a sunny day in the mountains with the top up. I put the top down and decided to deal with the consequences later on.

My measure for trail difficulty is different than most: I grade trails based on how easily a Smart Fortwo or Honda Civic could handle the terrain. If a Civic could do it, then it’s not even worth noting. Our morning started off like that. We hit some washboards and a little mud, but it wasn’t anything that a family hatch couldn’t handle.

Then it got rough. The dirt gave way to miles of rock crawling. The trails out here were driven by Jeeps, Broncos, Toyotas, side-by-sides, and one lonely Suzuki Samurai. The Nissan stuck out like a sore thumb.

I won’t reveal how the CrossCab wheeled until I write my full story about this, but I will say that it impressed everyone, even me. I’m not even exaggerating here. There were several times throughout the day when a Jeep driver or a side-by-side driver stopped and reacted to the CrossCab climbing over rocks with shocking ease. I heard “Jesus Christ” more than once, and there wasn’t a church nearby.

Griffin called this the “easy day” of our trip since we weren’t going to get any closer to Texas. But it wasn’t easy for me. If you’ve read my work for long enough, you know I live by a sort of “full send” mentality. I like to solve problems with a heavy application of my right foot, and this is bad for vehicles that weren’t built for off-roading. My unintentional destruction of our old Ski-Klasse project is an unfortunate example.

I had to fight my desire to send the CrossCab flying through the air at all costs. It’s not my car, and it still has to drive another 2,900 miles before it eventually reaches my apartment in Illinois. At the same time, I couldn’t be too timid. It takes some effort to get a car like this to rock crawl. So, I had to fight myself to reach a happy medium.

Thankfully, a little restraint and the low-key solid off-roading ability of our CrossCab meant that I concluded the day of wheeling with minimal casualties. There were only two obstacles that the CrossCab was not able to conquer, and you’ll have to read about those later. Along the way, I deleted one exhaust tip, lost about a millimeter of skin from a portion of my right hand, and beat the snot out of the CrossCab’s fake front skid plate.

About that hand: almost immediately after the exhaust tip fell off, I pulled the driver’s door handle, and it somehow sliced through the top layer of a portion of my right hand. The door handle is in two pieces, an outer decorative plastic chrome layer, and the inner black part, which appears to be the handle itself. In our CrossCab, the outer decorative plastic plastic has separated from the inner piece. This normally has the effect of jamming the door handle, so you have to yank it a bunch of times before it’ll open.

This time, I apparently yanked it hard enough that the two door handle pieces closed on my palm.

I was also able to confirm my suspicions from Monday: The CrossCab’s right front wheel bearing was bad, and was getting louder quite rapidly. After consulting the Autopian’s leadership, the decision was made to march forward and monitor the situation. Unfortunately, we don’t really have the parts or tools to tackle a wheel bearing replacement right now. Come to think of it, we don’t even have a spare tire.

Yesterday was also when – and I can’t believe I’m going to say this – I fell in love with the Nissan Murano CrossCabriolet. I spent much of Monday complaining about how the CrossCab was loud inside, had a stupidly complicated roof, had a trunk that was too small, and got putrid fuel economy. But all of that was changed when I dropped the top. Now I understand the CrossCab. Stowing the roof made the CrossCab feel like an entirely different car, but you’ll have to wait for my full love story about this thing. I think I’ll have to check with my doctor about this, because I never expected it.

Maybe the CrossCab appreciated the love, too, because when I closed the top last night, not only did the top quickly close entirely on its own, but the convertible top error light extinguished. Jason Torchinsky told me that, until just then, the light had always been on. Maybe all the CrossCab needed was a bashing off-road and a driver who now seriously loves it. And maybe my blood sacrifice on the door handle was a factor, who knows.

Anyway, today is going to be the actual easy day. After I finish writing this, Griffin and I will take off toward Lubbock, Texas. We’ll be spending most of our time on I-40, sort of tracing much of the old path taken by Route 66. I expect a whole lot of nothing to happen today. Or, at the very least, I hope nothing too exciting happens.

Oh, one more thing: you wanna hang out? Come and see me and Griffin tomorrow in Texas!