2008 Nissan Pathfinder 4wd V6 Se on 2040-cars

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2013 Nissan Pathfinder: Wrap-Up [w/video]

Despite our tendency as enthusiasts to clamor for things like wagons and hot hatchbacks, it's hard to argue with the buying public's increasing demand for functional crossovers. In fact, the great SUV craze of the late-1990s has all but faded in favor of the easier-driving, better-packaged, more-efficient crossover. That's even true at the larger end of the market - just look at what happened when Ford redesigned its body-on-frame Explorer into a stylish and well-equipped CUV. And now look at the similar success Nissan has had in repurposing its rugged Pathfinder sport-ute as an appealing crossover.
But happily, we report the following line: out of every long-term vehicle Autoblog has ever tested, not a single one has been as in-demand as the 2013 Pathfinder Platinum you see here. After 13 months of solid use, we added 24,372 miles to the Pfinder's odometer - and that's without the vehicle ever leaving the hands of our Detroit-based team (sorry, West Coasters).
There's good reason for that high-demand usage, too. After spending a little over a year with our Mocha Stone tester (a color that earned this Nissan the nickname "Sweet Brown") we came to appreciate its vast versatility, comfort, all-weather prowess, and the way it absolutely ate up the miles on long trips. We drove it all over the United States, in all four seasons, filling it with our families, friends, and occasionally using its capacious cabin for sleeping on the road. Through good and bad, the Pathfinder was a trusty friend. But like any good friendship, that wasn't without a couple of fights.

Question of the Day: Most heinous act of badge engineering?

Badge engineering, in which one company slaps its emblems on another company's product and sells it, has a long history in the automotive industry. When Sears wanted to sell cars, a deal was made with Kaiser-Frazer and the Sears Allstate was born. Iranians wanted new cars in the 1960s, and the Rootes Group was happy to offer Hillman Hunters for sale as Iran Khodro Paykans. Sometimes, though, certain badge-engineered vehicles made sense only in the 26th hour of negotiations between companies. The Suzuki Equator, say, which was a puzzling rebadge job of the Nissan Frontier. How did that happen? My personal favorite what-the-heck-were-they-thinking example of badge engineering is the 1971-1973 Plymouth Cricket. Chrysler Europe, through its ownership of the Rootes Group, was able to ship over Hillman Avanger subcompacts for sale in the US market. This would have made sense... if Chrysler hadn't already been selling rebadged Mitsubishi Colt Galants (as Dodge Colts) and Simca 1100s as (Simca 1204s) in its American showrooms. Few bought the Cricket, despite its cheery ad campaign. So, what's the badge-engineered car you find most confounding? Chrysler Dodge Automakers Mitsubishi Nissan Suzuki Automotive History question of the day badge engineering question

Can a car be lifted using rubber bands?

It's quite amazing what it takes to lift a car. We already know the feat can be accomplished using just a pair of phone books, but what about rubber bands? To the Internet! A video series appropriately titled "Will It Lift" attempted to find out by using a massive crane and a Nissan Micra weighing less than 1,800 pounds.
Doing a little math, the trio determined that it would take 180 rubber bands to support the car. A metal bar was placed through the window openings and another was place atop the car, and then attached together using the rubber bands and hooked to the crane. Now these aren't any special rubber bands or anything. They're just eight-millimeters thick, but the stunt is testing the rubber bands' power in numbers.
We're not going to spoil it for you, so scroll down to check out the video of the stunt.