Mike Rutherford's column

By Mike Rutherford

08th September 2007

	I admit it’s not a hardcore off-roader, but the Patriot is the true successor to the Cherokee of the Nineties and the Jeep of the decade

If anyone is agonising over what career path to take, I’d offer the following advice: write down the things in life that you love or enjoy the most, then find a job that involves them. That’s the only ‘plan’ I had in my ‘yoof.’ Initially I had a dozen pastimes and pleasures on my list but, eventually,

I narrowed it down to three: media, motoring and music.

I blagged my way into a large publishing company in Fleet Street (then the newspaper and magazine capital of Britain) and was soon reporting on the antics of bands such as The Jam and interviewing Duran Duran plus other lightweights. Sadly, although I’ve met Paul McCartney and George Harrison,
I was too late for The Beatles. And I simply wasn’t important enough for the Rolling Stones, despite the fact that I went to the same school as Mick Jagger and we were taught by the same English teacher.

After that short and undistinguished ‘career’ in rock journalism (plus an even shorter, unremarkable spell as a Parliamentary reporter at the Houses of Parliament), I started writing and talking about cars for a living.

And to this day, cars and rock music are still two of my great passions. So imagine how perfect my August Bank Holiday was. Home was a remote beach only 60 miles from London but feeling more like 6,000 miles away. Our small but perfectly formed motorhome of choice was the Volkswagen California, which I would buy tomorrow if I could afford one. The not-so-little runabout parked next to the VW was the even more exceptional Jeep Patriot.

Now I was such a fan of the old boxy Jeep Cherokee from the Nineties that

I bought one then, still own it today and will hang on to it not because it’s valuable but because it’s a legend. The latest-generation (current) Cherokee is not worthy of a Jeep badge. But, take it from somebody who puts his money where his mouth is on matters Jeep: the Patriot is the spiritual successor to that legendary Cherokee of the Nineties. Hardcore off-roader it is not. But could I get it stuck on the raw, unforgiving coast that was our camp for a couple of days? No. Could I drive the sand and mud-drenched 4x4 off the shoreline, on to the adjacent motorway and into the car park of London’s Millennium – now the O2 – Dome (more on that in a moment) in less than an hour? Yes? Would it average more than 40mpg as the manufacturer claims? Can it be bought for £15,995? Is it really the Jeep of the decade? Yes, yes and yes.

So what was I doing at the Dome? Watching another legendary product, the Rolling Stones, play what might prove to be their last gig. Mick and the boys will be impossible to replace. But a bunch of kids in a band called Mexico Fallz who rehearse and record in a one-car garage round the corner from where the Stones were formed are attempting to fill at least part of the void. One of the members of Mexico Fallz, Marcus Rutherford, studied at the Mick Jagger Centre 10 minutes down the road from the Dome. My son’s masterplan is to live on the beach in a VW California while
he starts his music degree at Sussex University by day. And he insists on carrying his guitar and amp in the boot of a Jeep Patriot when he’s gigging at night.

Little does he know that if I ever get round to buying a California and a Patriot, he’ll never ever get the keys to either of them. Still, I might lend him my ageing Cherokee and the Sixties’ VW bus that currently rusts in peace
at the bottom of our garden...