JK-Forum Reviews the 2014 Compass Latitude 4X4

By Derek Shiekhi - September 24, 2014

Jeep’s reputation for producing legendary off-roaders made life difficult for my 2014 Compass tester. It didn’t get the same treatment as my previous review vehicles from other manufacturers. It was a Jeep — and a “Trail Rated” one at that. It had to take me around town in comfort, and then claw and climb its way through the outdoors. Here are a few of the things I learned about it in both environments over the course of a week.

1) Familiar Yet Unusual Styling

I knew there was a reason why the front end gave me a sense of deja vu. I had seen it before. When Jeep designers restyled the compact SUV for 2011, they dove into the corporate parts bin and surfaced holding up the headlamps to the Grand Cherokee. The visual similarity to its upmarket brother made my Compass look more expensive than its $27,530 as-tested price. Large triangles of sheet metal behind the greenhouse simultaneously gave the rig some of its distinctive looks and created blind spots.

2) Light Under the Hood

Given that Jeep doesn’t offer a V6 in the Compass, I knew my review vehicle’s engine wasn’t going to be a powerhouse. So it came as no surprise that the 172-hp/165 lb-ft. 2.4-liter I4 felt a little short on thrust. In its defense, it was difficult to feel how fast or slow the Compass truly was because of its annoying continuously variable transmission.

3) Droning Gearbox

When I gave the right pedal a push at access-road or highway speeds, the CVT2L made an awful, guttural buuuuuhhhh as if it were annoyed by my request for acceleration, then seemed to grow lethargic. It masked any sensation of an increase in power as revs climbed, making me feel lost on the engine’s power band.

4) Surprising Features

It makes sense that the Latitude is the middle trim level for the Compass range because mine was a mixture of basic and luxury features. For instance, its front vinyl-and-mesh seats could be heated by pressing a button. Those in the back row could be manually reclined. Although the 6.5-inch touch screen wasn’t connected to a navigation system, it did give me access to SiriusXM satellite radio and a 40-GB hard drive*.

Not surprisingly, a trip meter at the bottom of the chrome-ringed tachometer gave me the numbers I needed to use to figure out if I was achieving the EPA’s calculations of 20 city, 23 highway, and 21 combined mpg.

5) Crude Interior

The dashboard of the Compass was a landscape of hard plastic. Only the thinnest of padding was under the surface of the upper door panels. When I pressed the buttons for the map lights, I felt plenty of give in the headliner above them. Driving was an act of charging into wind and road noise.

You know what, though? I didn’t care. I loved the Compass.

6) More Likeable Than a Certain Other Jeep

In fact, I enjoyed it more than I enjoyed the new Cherokee. Despite its rear end’s unusual lines, overall, it didn’t look as alien to me as the relaunched icon. It’s true that both the Compass and the Cherokee had disappointing transmissions; however, I’ll take a noisy gearbox over a nervous, overactive one.

Most importantly, the Compass validated my perception that Jeeps are rugged when I took it off-road.

7) Not Just Transportation

My test rig came equipped with the Freedom Drive II Off-Road Group, a $650 option. That included features such as skid plates for the transmission/engine oil pan and fuel tank, tow hooks, and something called “Brake Lock Differential.” That last bit of gear keeps the wheels on a particular axle turning at the same speed. According to a 2008 Chrysler blog post from Loren Trotter, who was an Active Chassis Control Systems engineer at the time, “A Jeep vehicle with BLD will negotiate almost any obstacle or driving situation that a similar vehicle with locking differential will.”

I drove out to the Hidden Falls Adventure Park in Marble Falls, Texas to see just what kinds of obstacles the Compass and I could encounter … and overcome. There, I took the little Jeep across washboard surfaces, down roads of dried mud, and through steering-wheel-jerking stretches of rocky earth. The vehicle got itself and me through trails with names such as Hog Alley and Boss Hog. Granted, those were on the lower end of the land’s scale of difficulty, but that didn’t mean they were without their challenges.

Whenever I came upon difficult terrain, I just bumped the chrome-topped shifter down into low gear and pulled up on the T-handle below the center armrest to lock the front and rear 17-inch wheels. Doing so allowed me to climb steep grades of jagged stone and slippery, unpacked dirt. I put the suspension’s articulation to the test as I descended slopes of machine-breaking rock unevenly formed by geological chaos. I allowed the Compass’s convenient Hill Descent Control to expertly manage the throttle and brakes. Departure and approach angles of 31.2 and 29.6 degrees, respectively, allowed me to avoid explaining to Jeep why I returned its loaner missing a bumper.

There were times when I got to an area which seemed impassable. After backing up a little, changing my line of attack, and applying some gas, I soon found myself yards down the road from it, realizing I was the weakest member of my off-road duo. The Compass could take what I threw at it; I just had to be smart and patient enough to allow it to do what a Jeep does best.

A perfectly cool breeze flowed through the trees and down the ribbons of pale dirt that I had to myself. Looking at my tester’s seven-slot grille, I felt as though I were more than just an automotive writer. I felt as though I were an adventurer. More than that, I felt connected to everyone over the past 73 years whose Jeep has gotten them across unfamiliar territory. When that happens, a Jeep becomes something greater than just an SUV: it graduates to a travel companion and a nature-proof guide through the wilderness.