The Jeep of today has three models that seat seven people and one model that seats eight. But, historically, that hasn’t always been the case. If you were a Jeep buyer in the 2000s and you wanted something for your sizable family, you had just one choice with Jeep’s first three-row SUV, the Commander. This SUV had so much going for it, from Jeep’s iconic boxy styling to a healthy set of equipment. Yet, somehow, Jeep failed so hard that Fiat Chrysler CEO Sergio Marchionne allegedly minced no words when he said that it was ‘unfit for human consumption.’ Here’s how the Commander failed to take authority of the family SUV market.
The SUV and crossover spent much of the late 1990s and the 2000s planting their stakes in the ground as America’s new favorite family car. In decades past, if you had a huge family, you got a full-size van or a wagon. Then, Chrysler’s iconic minivan changed the game, and suddenly, doors slid open, children piled in, and America had a new obsession.


The sport utility vehicle quickly became like catnip to car buyers. The SUV had enough seating for the family, but towered off of the ground, was rugged, and looked cooler to many folks than any minivan did. It wasn’t long before the SUV became a status symbol, appearing everything from driveways in cookie-cutter communities to “pimped out” with spinners and big speakers in the era’s famed rap videos. SUVs grew to become such a huge deal that it wasn’t a minivan that Porsche used to secure its future, but a sleek off-road SUV. Aiding SUVs in their mission for world domination was the crossover, and the big SUV-like car-based vehicles got softer and friendlier with each generation.

America’s SUV fever also got really weird with entrants like the mammoth Ford Excursion, the Isuzu VehiCROSS, and the Dodge Nitro. Jeep, the brand known for its hardcore off-roaders, went on an all-out SUV offensive, producing an SUV for seemingly every kind of buyer. The Cherokee died and was replaced with the Liberty. The Grand Cherokee grew up a bit and tried to put on a nice suit. Jeep also punched out the Patriot and Compass, two Jeep-shaped objects that shared more in common with the Dodge Caliber economy car than they did with the iconic Wrangler. Jeep also got weird with diesel power.
One segment that Jeep didn’t leave out was the big family SUV. Three-row SUVs held 40 percent of the SUV market in the mid-2000s, and Jeep wanted in. If you wanted three rows, seven seats, and a boxy body, Jeep had just the thing. On paper, the Commander had all of the same looks and guts of the Jeeps you loved, but now with an upscale interior and room for everyone. What could go wrong?
Born From An Awesome Concept

The Jeep Commander was previewed on the 1999 auto show circuit with a frankly amazing concept vehicle.
The Jeep Commander concept was far ahead of its time. According to period press releases, the concept vehicle had rockers two inches lower than a 1999 Jeep Grand Cherokee. This was because the concept vehicle was marketed as being sophisticated and upscale. But at the same time, Jeep said that it still had to be a real off-roader, so it had a suspension capable of raising the vehicle four inches. The Commander concept also stood at the Grand Cherokee’s height of 69.4 inches, but had a 7-inch wider stance at 80 inches.

The 1990s were a time when automakers were experimenting with alternative fuels for a greener future and the Commander concept was wild. The concept featured a direct methanol fuel cell, which produced energy to charge a nickel–metal hydride battery. The SUV also had four-wheel-drive through a motor on both axles. Save for the methanol fuel cell, the Commander concept sounds a lot like today’s electric crossovers, only over 25 years earlier.
Jeep’s parent, DaimlerChrysler, said that the technology wasn’t just for show, either. A company report claimed that DaimlerChrysler wanted to produce the “world’s first methanol-powered fuel cell car” in the 2000s.
Trail Rated For Seven

Jeep sort of put a version of the Commander concept into production as the third-generation Jeep Grand Cherokee, which shared some of the concept’s styling. As for the Commander, Jeep would go in another direction for that. Allpar got the scoop on the Commander’s development, and what you’re about to read will explain part of why the Commander didn’t work out as well as expected. From Allpar:
According to Jeep’s Michael Berube, the Jeep Commander was the result of a decision to sell a three-rows-of-seats SUV. The three-seat desire expressed by many customers was not for permanent seating, but “in a pinch” flexibility – having to drive home two more kids or adults now and then.
The Commander was only two inches longer than the 2005 Jeep Grand Cherokee and was produced on the same assembly lines. Donald A. Renkert, Senior Manager of the Jeep Studio, who was the principal stylist for the Commander (as well as Dodge Caravans and at least one of the second-generation Neons) said, “Jeep is not about being too big – we’re not an intimidating brand. We don’t want to knock down the trees, we want to fit between them. .. We said, let’s embrace and celebrate the box. Let’s not think outside the box, let’s build a cooler box.”
The windshield, windows, and doors all got straightened, providing more room inside, and giving the Commander more of a visual connection to past Jeeps. Informally, Mr. Renkert said that, while the styling does have some elements in common with Land Rover and the G-Wagon, that was not intentional, but the pricey SUVs helped justify the boxy shape to executives.

In press releases, Jeep says that the Commander, which entered production in 2005, was its first three-row SUV. This distinction is important because in the past, it built full-size SUVs, with good examples being the original Jeep Wagoneer and the FSJ Jeep Cherokee of the 1970s and early 1980s.
As MotorTrend notes, apparently, Jeep also initially claimed that the Commander was its first seven-seat production vehicle, and that part isn’t quite true. The ’50s Willys Jeep Station Wagon had room for seven. As David Tracy wrote in 2022, Jeep also made the Australian Jeep Overlander, which had room for eight! So, the only truly new Jeep thing here was that third row.

What’s interesting is that according to this paragraph from the Commander’s press release, perhaps the marketing people should have known that the Commander wasn’t Jeep’s first vehicle for seven:
In developing the 2006 Jeep Commander, designers looked to past Jeep vehicles for inspiration: the Willys Station Wagons (1946 to 1962), the Jeep Wagoneer (1963 to 1991) and especially the Jeep Cherokee (1984 to 2001). All were classically Jeep in appearance, with sharp lines, planar surfaces and rugged looks. The 2006 Jeep Commander is a modern interpretation of that design ethic.
The Commander’s body looked like the second-generation Liberty, but shared its bones with the third-generation Grand Cherokee. That meant unibody construction, a five-link rear axle, and an independent short/long arm front suspension. Jeep says it put a ton of emphasis on making the Commander upscale. Yet, it also wanted to make sure it could go off-road with the best of the Jeep lineup. Jeep says that the Commander shares the 109.5-inch wheelbase of the Grand Cherokee and that the Commander is “as maneuverable and off-road capable as the Grand Cherokee.”

Jeep also got really clever inside. The second and third rows were given stadium seating, or where the second row sits higher than the first row and the third row sits higher than the second row. This is supposed to give everyone a nice view of the road ahead and maybe make the interior feel a little roomier. Another nice touch was the Command-View polycarbonate skylights over the second row seats.
The Commander was also filled to the brim with technology. Buyers had the choice of three Quadra-Trac permanent four-wheel-drive systems, two transfer cases, brake-based traction control, and an electronic limited-slip differential. Other equipment included, from Jeep:
Jeep Commander is the first Chrysler Group vehicle with electronic roll mitigation. Using input from multiple sensors, the system deploys the air bags in certain rollover scenarios, as well as side impact events.
Crash protection features available on the Jeep Commander include advanced multi-stage air bags with an Occupant Classification System, available side curtain air bags, seat belts equipped with pretensioners and digressive load limiting retractors, and BeltAlert®, a buckle-up reminder system for the driver.
Crash avoidance features on the 2006 Jeep Commander include standard Electronic Stability Program (ESP), Anti-Lock Brake System (ABS), and an All-Speed Traction Control System (TCS). A tire pressure monitoring system, ParkSense™ rear park assist, Uconnect™ hands-free communications, DVD-based navigation system, SmartBeam® headlamps, and rain-sensitive wipers provide additional safety and security on the road.

Wrapping up the Commander was a handful of engines. The weakest of the bunch was the 3.7-liter Powertech V6, which was good for 210 HP and 235 lb-ft of torque. The hottest mill was a 5.7-liter Hemi V8 making 360 HP and 390 lb-ft of torque. Buyers outside of North America got their Commanders with a 3.0-liter Mercedes-Benz OM642 V6 good for 218 HP and 376 lb-ft of torque.
In theory, the Jeep Commander had all of the right ingredients to be a home run. It was luxurious enough, it had V8 power, it had eight rows, and it had the status that comes with a Jeep badge.
A Tough Crowd

Getting the Commander into the hands of customers had a rocky start. Aside from the somewhat confusing marketing on passenger counts, the media wasn’t exactly lapping up the Commander.
In November 2005, Car and Driver held an interesting comparison test. The Ford Explorer, which got a facelift, went up against the Commander, which, as we established, was largely a tarted-up three-row Grand Cherokee. This test is a neat read because when the publication performed a six-way comparo in April of that year, the Explorer finished dead last in the pack, but the Jeep Grand Cherokee finished first.

The Commander ultimately won the head-to-head comparison test in 2005, with the SUV’s styling, almost perfect driving position, intuitive controls, and growly Hemi V8 all getting compliments. But don’t mistake that for perfection, because Car and Driver had plenty to complain about, from the issue:
Lows: Gun-slit windshield, dismal mileage, cramped third-row seat, numb steering.
The Commander instantly earned points for its wide and roomy front seats, its control relationships, and its agreeable arms-out driving position. The front footwells proved more spacious, too. Then it lost points for its constricted third-row seat. The uneven floor made it tricky to climb back there, and “climb” is the correct descriptor. Third-rowers sit with their heads jammed into the 3.2-inch step in the roof, and their view of passing scenery is scant. Come to think of it, the driver’s view isn’t so vast, either, limited by the stubby, upright windshield. Retro design comes at a price.
The Commander’s steering is a hair too lazy off-center and more or less numb thereafter. Truth is, neither of these trucks offers anything like true road feel. On the ballot to rank steering, one editor eschewed numbers and simply wrote, “Some.”
Robert Farago reviewed the Commander for Jalopnik in 2005:
So I was heading toward the new Commander when a-million-miles-from-MILF Mommy commandeers me. “Is that the new Jeep?” she asks, cutting off my escape route. Oh crap. She gazes at the Commander’s ungainly form like a crutch-wielding supplicant encountering a vision of The Mother Mary polishing the cross at Fatima’s Little Chapel of the Apparitions. I heard it’s got a third row,
she announces with alarming interest. As a professional car reviewer, I am committed to telling the truth, the ugly truth and the really entertaining ugly truth. But I thought, screw that. Let’s do this empirically.So I pop the Commander’s hatch, yank up the fold-flat seat and show the child-ferrying harridan the back of the bus. I move aside so she can see that the legroom is as shallow as the British Royal Family’s gene pool. Lots of room back there, she remarks. If you know what I mean. I don’t, and I don’t want to. To distract her and physically remove myself from her immediate vicinity, I clamber into the rear row and try to resist the urge to scratch my nose with my right knee. Terrific! She pronounces, as if she was hoping that the Commander’s extra accommodation would violate The Geneva Convention.
I mumble something about the hallucinatory effects of branding. She doesn’t even duck. I retreat to the Commander’s helm to try and sort out what just happened. My analytical abilities are short-circuited by the steering wheel’s faux chrome center ring. It’s about as convincing as the ad for Valenti International Matchmaking that’s been cluttering The Robb Report’s classified section since the day of The Excalibur. Why in God’s name are there fake Allen screw holes in the thing (the steering wheel, not Irene Valenti)? The ones in the dash are at least real fake Allen screw holes. The wheel ones are embossed, for Christ’s sake.

Ok, that’s hilarious, but Robert got serious in the ratings section:
Exterior Design *
Just what the world needs: a large, gas-guzzling SUV with all the aerodynamic efficiency of a flying brick. Why didn’t I think of that?
Acceleration ***
Our tester’s 4.7-liter V8 didn’t have enough to power to motivate this 5273 lbs. behemoth into anything remotely resembling a sprint. Sixty comes up from rest, eventually, in 10.2 seconds. On the positive side, the engine torques a good game, imparting a reasonable facsimile of forward thrust. If for some reason I’ve yet to discern, you buy a Commander, be sure to equip it with a Hemi. The 5.7-liter mill increases the Commander’s ability to get out of its own way and increases the lumbering lummox’s staggering afrugality.[…]
Why you should buy this car: It s a Jeep. It s a well-built Jeep. It s a well-built Jeep that looks like a Cherokee Limited from the late-80 s. If you re a nostalgic outdoorsy-type who doesn’t mind torturing that spare set of sprogs, you re good to snow.
Why you shouldn’t buy this car: It’s ugly, cramped, thirsty (we saw 7.9 mpg) and slow.
Not everyone was negative. You can count on the legendary John Davis of MotorWeek to give any car a fair shake:
What’s interesting is that as time went on, some journalists soured on the idea of the Commander. Car and Driver reviewed the Commander again in 2009 and wasn’t nearly as nice that time:
Lows: Does nothing particularly well, nobody but the driver is comfortable.
Movies might placate the kids in almost any circumstance, but adults relegated to middle- or back-seat duty will be begging for more territory. The second-row seats recline individually, but the seatbacks are narrow enough to strand the inboard shoulder on the middle seat, which only folds forward. Free up some shoulder space by flipping down the center section, though, and the narrowness of the bottom cushion forces those of ample bottom to ride knock-kneed.
The third-row perches are about 25 percent wider but come with their own compromise, namely, the positioning of the seat only eight or so inches off the floor. Imagine sitting on a pair of phonebooks with your knees in your face, and you have a pretty good sense of it. And, the third row tucks so tightly against the back glass that it leaves only eight cubic feet for cargo—barely more than a Saturn Sky roadster’s trunk. At least the power-adjustable pedals, the tilting and telescoping steering wheel, and the eight-way adjustable seat mean the driver can get perfectly comfortable.
Oof.

Based on the reviews, you might think that the Commander failed because it was bad at being a big SUV. I mean, at its core, it was a Grand Cherokee massaged into a shape only barely capable of seating people in a third row. But that’s only part of the story. The Commander still had an epic list of features and could even tow up to 7,200 pounds. They also seemed to be reasonably reliable for a DaimlerChrysler product of the mid-2000s.
While lots of folks have reported issues, lots of others report great reliability. Some folks have complained about finicky transmissions, and some others have complained about leaking skylights. Yet, I haven’t found anything that really stuck out. Even the most reliable cars have at least some sort of population of problem children.
Instead, Car and Driver offered a different explanation for why the Commander failed. Sales were actually decent at first, with 88,497 units finding new homes in 2006, the first full year of production. Sales were still strong enough in 2007 with 63,027 units sold. Then, sales fell off of a cliff to 27,694 in 2008 before halving to 12,655 in 2009.

What gives? Well, our old friend the Great Recession reared its ugly head. Practically overnight, gas-guzzling SUVs were deemed unpopular, and people especially weren’t going to pony up the cash for one with cramped seating. The economy clipped the Commander’s wings before it could really fly.
Still, sales slumped until Jeep took the Commander out back and put it down. In 2011, the body of the Commander hadn’t even cooled down yet before the late Fiat Chrysler Automobiles CEO Sergio Marchionne was shockingly honest to Automotive News about how he felt about the vehicles designed before FCA took over:
“That car was unfit for human consumption. We sold some. But I don’t know why people bought them.”
Australia’s Drive reported that Marchionne even took a shot at the Dodge Durango, saying:
“If I had been here, the Durango would have been a Grand Wagoneer.”
I don’t think the Commander is really that bad. Is the third row tiny? Yes, sure, but a lot of SUVs were like that back then. On the bright side, the Commander had Hemi V8 power, a decent tow rating, actual off-roading capability, good features, and proportions that weren’t quite full-size.

As a teenager, I remember loving the boxy look of the Commander, its sweet skylight windows, and how the Limited model had cool handles on the rear end. Truth be told, the Jeep Wrangler JK didn’t do much for me, but the Commander seemed like my jam. While I’m not exactly in a rush to buy one, I’d love to at least drive a Commander one day.
When new, the maxi-Jeep had a base price of $27,985. That got you a 4×2 V6. $29,985 was the floor for a 4×4 model and if you wanted a V8 Limited 4×2, that was $36,280. Paying $38,900 got you the full ride with the Limited trim and 4×4. Today, you’ll find used Commanders for under $10,000 all day long, and some even under $4,000. Jeep sold over 230,000 of these things, so they’re not at all rare.
Today, the idea of a plus-size Jeep isn’t new or radical. I mean, Jeep’s longest SUV is as long as the Ford Excursion was. The Jeep Commander was a pretty big deal when it hit sales floors. But, for a number of reasons, the Commander started off strong before landing with a thud. Still, if you’re looking for a cheap Jeep with a big interior, maybe you’ll take the lead in a Commander one day.
I test drove a Commander in ’09 because I really liked the boxy exterior styling. I also test drove the Grand Cherokee, and ultimately ended up buying one. The overall experience with the Commander just wasn’t good compared to the Grand Cherokee; the visibility was definitely a big factor. I still have that Grand Cherokee, and recently passed 200,000 miles…no complaints!
And it will please me greatly if I never encounter another excerpt from Robert Farago’s “work” again. Yikes.
As a several time XJ owner, and having had good experiences with ZJ and WJ Grand Cherokees I was excited when these came out. Never liked the Liberty. But when I finally got a chance to ride in one I couldn’t believe how cheap and crappy it felt inside. And with Jeep that’s not a high bar. Also can confirm the back rows are quite tight and the third row is only fit for small children but I will add that’s true for nearly every midsize 3 row SUV.
One of my buddies had an early V6 example that we used for traveling to crew practice in the early 2010s. That car could take absurd abuse – he once jumped it off a speed bump with 7 full grown men on board – and ran flawlessly until he traded for a Trackhawk. That Commander and another teammate’s Olds Delta 88 rewired my car preferences from Euro superiority to large Yank tanks. So gotta give the Commander it’s due, that’s a well screwed together automobile (just not where the screws are visible)
The Commander came out at the same time that I had been wanting Jeep to go ahead and build the four-door Wrangler they’d teased years before. Instead, I’d traded my TJ Wrangler (and its host of Chrysler-induced quality shortcomings…) for a used, high-mileage (some might say slightly abused) Land Rover Discovery I. I had faith that my ability to wrench, plus surprisingly good parts availability on the East Coast, would make any needed repairs relatively painless.
My wife and I quickly became enamored of the Disco; it delivered quite capably as a go-anywhere family hauler and workhorse. The side-mounted pair of rear jumpseats were favorites for the kids even as they got bigger, since you sat in them comfortably like a proper chair and the tall roof section was more than sufficient for kids and still acceptable at leaving headroom for adults. The Buick/Rover V8 wasn’t fabulous for gas mileage, but it got at least 18 if not 20+ MPG, which wasn’t horrible in the early 2000s; its biggest drawback was that it required high-octane fuel, so trips to the pump were still a bit pricier compared to other SUVs with similar mileage. But, it was the price of admission for a genuine off-roadable SUV that also had more power and acceleration that something of its size really had a right to. Oh, and as for repairability, it bore out to be true that, armed with a Haynes manual and the simple acceptance that the Brits build cars their own way, wrenching and repairs were straightforward for the most part, and what needed fixing stayed fixed. Which was doing a bit better than entirely too many other people we knew at the time, who seemed to be continually bringing late-model cars back for warranty service for things that broke repeatedly. The early 2000s were a time of growing pains for a lot of new car technologies and shops adapting to them, to say the least.
So in the light of all that, I recall seeing Commanders on the road, and liking the styling which visibly harked back to the old XJ Cherokee. But I had zero interest in buying one, since I already had the very capable Disco. And I may have been (and still am, sadly) a bit leery of Jeep products given my TJ Wrangler not having quite lived up to the Jeep quality I remembered from the Kaiser and AMC years. Now I’m certain I made the right choice back then!
Since I hadn’t paid a lot of close attention to the Commander, the article is an interesting revelation. I hadn’t known it even had the second-row sunroofs, such cramped third-row seats, or that it was as underpowered as it apparently was. Reading about it now, though, it’s kind of hard not to wonder if Jeep hadn’t attempted (but failed) to come up with an Americanized version of the Disco — a vehicle they surely knew about since it had been in production since the 90s, and the coil-sprung live axe suspension was the direct inspiration for the TJ Wrangler’s and successive Jeep iterations. It turns out that most of what defined the Disco was in the Commander — Raised rear roof (though hidden by very thick roof rack rails, probably on purpose), second row sunroof (Though split, and were they even openable?), and seating for two more in the rear (though far more cramped due to what looks like too high of a floor and not enough raised roof height. The problem, to me, is that the designers knew what they wanted, but packaging it in anything that didn’t essentially ape the Disco’s looks didn’t work. A Disco looks the way it does — tall ride height, stubby overhangs, notably stepped roof and slightly widened rear quarter — for extremely functional reasons. The (slightly gawky) look is dictated by practicality. I doubt if Chrysler’s design committee would have accepted something like it both for fear of being copycats as well as wanting to keep within more conventional styling expectations. So what they came up with was successfully marketable, but a failure in the real world.
+1 on the Disco. I’m struggling to say something about the Commander that hasn’t been said about the LR3. Maybe the interior is ugly?
I’ll read the comments below to see if I’m alone, but the Jalopnik review sucks. That million miles comment is especially stupid.
If thats what Jalopnik was like in 2005 I’m really glad I didn’t start reading regularly until 2011 or so.
Yeah that review reads like a kid trying to be edgy.
As a young adult, I hated the way these things looked. I saw the Jeep Liberty influence but they mainly just looked like that plastic piece of junk Jeep Patriot. These things were supposed to be upscale and they looked like fisher price cars. Ugly ass design with horrible mpg. That third row was so idiotic as well. I had most of the same arguments for the Durango at the time. Bland, cheap plastic looking shitbox. The Aspen at least looked ok. They should have made the Commander a truly body on frame 3 row SUV and called that a Grand Wagoneer. It might have still died due to The Great Recession but maybe not if it was good enough.
The egregiousness of putting round headlight reflectors into square holes exemplifies the problems withe Jeep and Chry corp during this era.
I don’t know about other parts of the continent but on Canada’s Wharf these rusted with terrifying speed. Witnessed one which was on the road for just 4 years suffer catastrophic suspension failure, ejecting its rear control arms like candy from a gumball machine.
Fisher Price interiors didn’t help the cause, though such misery was par for the course in that era.
2 years out of college my buddy bought one of these. I said it looked cross-eyed and called it the Commandeer. That may have been the moment I went anti-new-car.
Man, that 2005 excerpt from the old German Lighting Site reminds me of how far that site has fallen. Farago, Spinelli and crew were so great.
My best friend’s parents had one of these while we were growing up. They treated it like a majority of 3 row crossover owners do and left the tiny cramped third row down except in a pinch when they had to transport an extra kid or two somewhere. Those skylights were so rad to me the first time we went downtown for a Cardinals game at night time. Also for a factory sound system, it was pretty incredible. his folks ended up replacing it in 2020 with a lightly used ’19 Toyota 4Runner. I guess boxy and bad gas mileage is their thing
We had one for many years. we got it used with about 17k on it and it was not my choice to replace our dying ZJ but my wife found it while minivan shopping so I was ok with it. It was the top of the line Limited 5.7 Hemi in dark blue and it had the saddle brown leather seats. It was our Brownie troop bus. I got 8-12 MPG and the full time 4wd was hard on front tires. The transfer case and transmission were very problematic. I got it for a while after my wife wife was done with it. She drove it one time and said “the transmission gets worse every time I drive it, replace it” this is how I got my JKU. the wrangler has more space behind the second row of seats, and gets 50% BETTER gas milage.
Yes the info above it correct with the third row up there is almost no storage space. like the seat backs are like a hand width from the back glass.
I liked the rear grab handles. If jeep would have marketed it as a jeep more than a fancy luxo-status city show off vehicle and toughened up the look, it they would have sold more. ALL that implies it would have been built better.
Similar experience, I loved ours with the Hemi but turned in at end of lease for sus tranny and lack of interior space for its exterior dimensions.
The joy of 8-12 mpg AND a 21 gallon tank is that I fueled up several times a week. I was lucky when the range said 250 miles until empty I knew I was being light footed.
Special Agent Hank Schrader approves. At least one of the Salamanca twins does not.
I think of this often whenever I see one of these.
We focus alot on the size/volume but that gas mileage might have been the death of the Commander.
I can get +20 mpg out of a V8 explorer of the era and this thing only got 8? With skyrocketing gas prices around 2008 people probably looked at that and ran.
I’d take Car and Driver’s mpg with a grain of salt, they typically flog their test vehicles pretty hard. Still I think mid teens was about the best this woudl do with the V8.
This. I’m sure that mileage includes all their acceleration testing as well. I subscribed to that mag for years; they almost always got lowsy mileage with their testers.
From browsing Fuelly.com, it looks like these got about 13 – 17 mpg for the regular folk.
That sounds about right. My exwife had an 07 grand cherokee with similiar drivetrain, slightly smaller and probalby a little slippier, but still it was around 17-18 on a good day.
I had a hemi commander limited with full time 4wd and got 8-12mpg. 17 would have been miraculous but the smaller and not FT4wd may have done that well.
I don’t remember the gas mileage being this bad with ours and the Hemi and I pay close attention to such things.
Back in 2005, I had a Commander as a rental when I was working in Lake Tahoe. What I recall most vividly was waiting in traffic to make a left turn. There was finally a small break in the line of oncoming cars so I punched it… And nothing happened other than the Commander nosed into the opposite lane with cars heading towards me! So I let off the go-pedal. And then the vehicle surged forward when I wasn’t expecting it to. I was only in my 30s back then, but I think that’s the closest I came to having a heart attack.
Busy traffic is no place to have throttle-by-wire brain farts in a vehicle.