I’m Beating Up Our 107,000-Mile Nissan Murano CrossCabriolet Through Its First Midwestern Winter And It’s Not Happy

Last year, The Autopian bought what I think is its coolest company car yet, a 2014 Nissan Murano CrossCabriolet. This unloved convertible crossover has been through so much in our hands, from failed cop slides and rock crawling to silly modifications and an epic road trip. Now, the CrossCabriolet is currently living with me outside of Chicago. It’s probably the crossover’s first Midwestern winter, and oh my, so many amusing and concerning things have happened to the poor thing.

Our CrossCabriolet journey has been a fun one. These crossovers have always had a poor reputation in the car community. Prospective buyers didn’t seem to care about them, either, considering that Nissan just barely sold more than 6,000 copies of them. But I think all of The Autopian staff has come around on these crossovers. They’re stupid, they’re complicated, and they could break at any moment. But the CrossCabriolet somehow made its way into our hearts.

We picked up our example from a dealership in Texas and then immediately got to work doing shenanigans with it. We had our partner, XPEL, cover exactly half of the CrossCab in paint protection film. We also gave the CrossCab a lift kit, Ford Mustang Tri-Bar wheels, and our friends over at Vredestein hooked it up with Pinza AT tires. We’ve been pretty merciless in our treatment of the CrossCab since then. Jason scratched up its hood by sliding his butt across it while dressed up as a cop. We slammed shopping carts into it, and it also looks like someone drew on the hood with a sharp object.

Then, I took the CrossCab on its hardest test, driving it 4,050 miles across America. I bashed the crossover into bushes, scraped it on trees, beat it into rocks, and took it places that I bet no other CrossCab has been. I showed the poor CVT no restraint and tested the AWD system to its limit. The CrossCab survived all of it and got me back to Illinois safely.

I thought that the CrossCab’s life would get much easier here in the Midwest. I haven’t taken it off-roading, haven’t done any cannonball run-style trips, and it’s been months since the paint has last battled a tree. All the CrossCab has to do is get through a snowy, salty winter. Easy, right?

So far as we can tell from the vehicle’s Carfax, it was a southern vehicle for its whole life. This is probably its first-ever winter in the Midwest. Some parts of the CrossCab aren’t happy in the frigid cold.

The Roof Scares Me

The CrossCab wasn’t anywhere close to perfect when we picked it up. The crossover already had 100,000 miles, and it was clear that those miles were pretty rough. The paint already had plenty of dents, nicks, and scratches. The interior was scuffed, peeling, and worn, and it looked like a dog chewed on a panel.

But the worst of it was the roof. As we’ve reported in the past, the CrossCabriolet’s roof has a darn near 100 percent failure rate because it’s so comically complicated that you’d swear it was made by BMW or Mercedes-Benz, not Nissan. Our example already wasn’t great. David Tracy said that the top fabric’s “fitment is hideous,” that there was evidence of water leaks, and that the top mechanism had a knack for getting stuck.

Jason warned me that the roof had maybe two cycles left in it. Griffin and I opened the roof for off-roading in Sedona, closed it, and then didn’t open it again until we got to the Lone Star/No-Start Lemons Rally in Texas. Weirdly, I noticed that the more I opened and closed the roof, the better it worked. Each and every time I cycled it, the roof system would miss fewer steps and get stuck fewer times. By the end of the Lemons Rally, I had the roof opening and closing without failure. The roof error warning light even extinguished.

So, I ignored Jason’s warnings. So long as it’s at least 32 degrees outside, I will open the roof. I’ve lost count, but the roof has probably been through at least 20 complete cycles by now. The roof is working far better now than it was when I picked up the CrossCab in California.

Yet, I think David really undersold just how bad the roof is. Upon getting the CrossCab into this Midwestern winter, I noticed that the “fitment” got worse. Then, it hit me, the roof might not exactly have poor fitment, but the fabric itself is probably shrinking. I have seen convertible tops shrink before, especially on cars in the southern U.S. that are stored outside. Fabric shrinking is one of the top killers of Smart Fortwo Cabriolet roofs in places like Florida.

I have noticed that the top’s fabric is just barely covering the tops of the roof rails.

So far as I can tell, if it shrinks even just a half centimeter further, the headliner will not have much weather protection. This is probably why there are water stains on the headliner right now. If water hits the top just right, it can get past the fabric.

Now, you might wonder why I care so much about this when I don’t own the car. Well, I’m obsessive, and every time I see the roof, my head is inundated with questions.

This issue has been racking my brain, so I’ve been scouring the Internet to see if I can find other CrossCabs with roof shrinkage. I’ve yet to find another with shrinkage as extreme as ours. Now, I’m questioning if it’s even shrinkage, but something else. I know that some convertible tops can be adjusted to fix fitment issues. I have been looking into this for a couple of months now and haven’t gotten any closer to a clear answer. There’s so much that can go wrong with this roof that I’m not even sure where I’d begin.

It Gets Worse

Another problem is the fact that the roof fabric appears to be brittle. The leading edge of the roof fabric has been tearing off. This is another issue that I’m not sure how to fix. The good news is that our CrossCab doesn’t seem to experience some of the other big issues that these roofs can suffer from, namely, fabric getting threadbare near the rear window.

For now, we’ve all just sort of ignored the condition of the fabric. Thankfully, it is possible to separate the fabric from the roof mechanism. It should technically be possible to replace the fabric if that’s something that we choose to do down the line. I even know of a CrossCab specialist right here in Chicagoland.

James Gilboy wrote an extensive piece concerning the wacky engineering and wild flaws associated with the CrossCab’s roof. In it, he notes that YouTuber Savagegeese doesn’t recommend opening the roof when it’s colder than 40 to 50 degrees Fahrenheit. A Nissan TSB says that you shouldn’t open the roof below 32 degrees. The reasoning is that, if it’s too cold, the fabric might not stow correctly.

Well, I’m stubborn and allow intrusive thoughts to win. I mean, why else do I own so many cars? I open and close the roof whenever I want to, so long as the temperature is 32 degrees or higher.

Though I did break my rule once and opened the roof when it was 30 degrees outside. The system worked just fine. It has gotten to the point that I reflexively open the roof on every single drive so long as it’s not actively snowing and the temperature is at least 32 degrees.

It’s not as crazy as it sounds. The CrossCab’s interior stays pretty warm so long as you keep the windows up when the roof is down. Okay, maybe it is crazy.

It Froze Still

Illinois was recently subjected to a deep freeze. I’m talking several days where temps barely cleared single digits or hovered in the low teens. There were also a few days where nighttime temperatures were below zero. The coldest of those nights was -17 degrees. During that deep freeze, I started the CrossCab when it was -10 outside, and wow, it wasn’t happy. The vehicle did not have power steering for a whole minute as the pump screamed in pain. The power steering fluid must have been like syrup.

I also didn’t have brakes for at least a minute after the power steering finally decided to join in. I just sat there pressing the pedal, and it was rock-hard with maybe a centimeter of movement if I pushed hard. The pedal did work enough to allow me to move the shifter. After a couple of minutes of sitting, I threw it into gear and reversed a bit. I heard a series of scrapes and clunks. Then, a moment later, the brakes worked. I got out, looked behind the wheels, and didn’t see anything immediately obvious that would have caused it.

I have lived in the Midwest my entire life and have driven in every sub-zero winter since I got my license. I’ve never had a car wait minutes to give me brakes before. I didn’t find any obvious issues with the braking system. The brake fluid even tested okay. Maybe the calipers physically froze to the rotors or something?

I Stupidly Tempted Fate With The Roof

Thankfully, temperatures are slowly climbing back to what’s normal for February, but I admit that I did get some cabin fever. Temps got up to 25 degrees the other day, and I let the thoughts win and hit the open button for the top. Oh my, that was a mistake. The top moved in slow motion and then got stuck about four-fifths of the way through the opening. The scary part was that I did give up and hit the close button, but the roof responded by opening further. Uh oh. Then it got stuck on the very last step and wouldn’t close the deck lid. Some furious button mashing and some work with my hands later, and it completed the open cycle. I then became too scared to try to close it.

But I had no choice, I had to get it closed. So, I drove around top down for long enough to warm the car up as much as possible. Luckily, the CrossCab gods were in my favor, because after a 30-minute drive, I pulled over and hit the close button. It completed the close cycle without issue. It didn’t even get stuck while closing. Alright, so I learned my lesson. Our CrossCab is not invincible.

In fairness to the CrossCab, we have been intentionally treating it like crap. It probably hasn’t been washed since Pebble Beach. I know I haven’t washed it since picking it up in California. We sort of want all of the dirt, grime, and road salt to get all caked up on the paint.

Still A Champ

All of that aside, the CrossCab is surviving winter pretty okay. The cabin gets plenty toasty, even in negative temps, and the Vredestein tires haven’t failed me in any winter scenario thus far. The wheel bearing issue that I reported during my road trip is still there and hasn’t really gotten worse, but the team has authorized me to get it fixed, so I’ll do that once it’s warm enough outside. My fuel economy average around home has been an unwavering 17.1 mpg.

Otherwise, I’ve been using it as a winter sled. I take it to doctor appointments, I take it to the airport, and it even brought my tiny bird home after her seizure. It was, unintentionally, also the car Sheryl got to ride home in from the hospital after a surgery.

So, the CrossCab will survive its probably first Midwest winter. It has about 107,000 miles on its odometer and shows no sign of stopping anytime soon. Even the CVT is still kicking despite our abuse.

Despite all of this, I’m still in love with this stupid thing. Sure, its roof might be shrinking, and the mechanism will probably fail at the least opportune time, but I can’t help but cheer it on. I shudder to think how much the roof will cost to fix, but I can’t stop opening it because driving the CrossCab makes me smile. The CrossCab and I have been through so much together that I feel like we have a good rapport. Is this the automotive equivalent of Stockholm Syndrome?

Top graphic image: Mercedes Streeter