Depending on how you define it, you could say that we completed building the Interstate Highway System in the early-’90s. Of course, anyone who has driven more than a mile of interstate knows that it is never complete, with continuous improvements and repairs scattering federal funds and orange barrels like so much stale bread at pigeons. It’s a wonder, then, that at a time when truly continent-wide high-speed limited-access roadways were finally deemed complete, American drivers suddenly need vehicles that could venture far from the pavement. It seems absurd that over the final decade of the 20th century that we collectively abandoned civilized people carriers like minivans and station wagons for larger, thirstier, and comparatively crude SUVs.
In other words, we found our paths, paved them, and decided that since we were no longer required to suffer the wilderness, we needed our driveways to reflect that we might actively seek adventure in the wild. The evolution of the Nissan Pathfinder from a rugged, two-door, body-on-frame brute with the barest of creature comforts to a four-door, three-row, near-luxury, lifted unibody station wagon shows this change neatly. It takes a healthy squint to see the resemblance between these two vehicles sharing little more than badges, but in the differences lay lessons about how we collectively get around.
Nissan invited a few journalists to visit their North American headquarters in Nashville and drive a few vehicles from its Heritage Collection located in the basement of the Lane Motor Museum. While most of these vehicles have been owned by the company since new, they aren’t necessarily what you’d think of as museum pieces. They are used—and occasionally abused—regularly. This two-door 1987 Nissan Pathfinder, equipped with the optional 140-horsepower VG30i V6 and a five-speed manual transmission, has well over 170,000 miles on the odometer, and it shows.
In 1990, this first-generation Pathfinder saw a half-step toward civility when it became (nearly) exclusively a four-door model, and it was in this guise your author owned his first SUV—a 1995 model painted the same Cherry Red Pearl as the two-door pictured here. It fell victim to both the road salt endemic to Ohio winters as well as some ham-handed shadetree mechanical work by yours truly, but “Boris” the Pathfinder was a big part of my life, including being in the driveway when bringing home my first child.
Driving The Classic—1987 Nissan Pathfinder
Nostalgia is remarkable. Rose-tinted (Cherry Red Pearl-tinted?) glasses can blind one to that which is less than ideal, or at least to things that have been markedly improved for the better. Modern conveniences and safety features, including cupholders, displays for navigation, and plentiful airbags are all genuinely great things that make modern motoring less of a strain and less of a hazard on drivers and passengers alike.
And let’s not forget about horsepower. With just 145 horses to drag around 3,800 pounds of SUV before anyone gets inside, the classic Pathfinder isn’t a speed demon. Rowing the five gears is necessary, even requiring a drop from fifth to fourth to maintain highway speeds at a gentle rise in the roadway. Consider that Nissan’s smallest current crossover in America, the 2025 Nissan Kicks, now has 141 hp, available all-wheel drive, and weighs–at most–3,252 pounds.
It’s not a particularly comfortable vehicle to live with daily, though some of the noise and vibration can readily be chalked up to the age and mileage of this tester. Pair that with 31-inch all-terrain tires and there is a vibration and nervousness to the ride, along with more play in the steering than in a modern vehicle. Well, most modern vehicles. I do own a 2021 Jeep Wrangler, which would be nobody’s first choice for a highway vehicle.
Incidentally, one of the first published road tests of the Pathfinder appeared in the November 1986 issue of Car and Driver. There, the reviewer noted after a brief drive that “the Pathfinder really does ride as smoothly and quietly as a normal passenger car on paved roads…” I wasn’t driving until the mid-’90s—were normal passenger cars really this crude back then?
A few minutes into the drive and an old familiar sting returns. The loose, light steering is a natural match to the long shift lever. The clutch take-up is progressive. After a colleague had taken the Pathfinder as far off the path as we’d manage for the day, shifting from four-wheel drive back into rear-wheel drive was effortless. The barely-padded door cards and shallow arm rest encouraged hanging an elbow out of the window and a fingertip grasp of the steering wheel, perfect for a casual cruise. The rattles faded away, easily discounted as a product of age. Many of my joints rattle, too.
The styling of the classic Pathfinder makes crystal clear the parentage of the Nissan Hardbody pickup. The angular faces on every surface—save the muscular, bulging flares over each wheel—could have only come from the ’80s, and the alloy wheels are unlike any I’ve seen on a mass-market passenger vehicle before or since. Yes, a modern version appeared on the 2024 Nissan Frontier Hardbody Edition, a move I applaud, but I’d really love to see a Hardbody-styled (and, more importantly, Hardbody-capable) modern Pathfinder with these wheels. The trio of horizontal slots above the grille add a bit of character to the face, and the triangular rear quarter windows can pivot open to bring some fresh air to the rear passengers.
And Now For Something Completely Different—2024 Nissan Pathfinder
If you look closely, those grille slots have returned to the latest Pathfinder, and the angled quarter window is echoed in the body-colored slash of the C-pillar as it meets the blacked-out roofline. And, yeah, the paint color is close—here, it’s called Scarlet Ember Tintcoat. Otherwise, there is little indication that these two vehicles are related.
That’s not to say that the 2024 Nissan Pathfinder isn’t a solid vehicle—though I hesitate to call it an “SUV.” I’m of the belief that a genuine SUV is built on a traditional body-on-frame platform, where anything else in the tall wagon form factor is a crossover. That’s not to say that a crossover can’t do SUV things, but it’s a neat way of delineating the segments. And the Pathfinder has a long history of straddling that line, as the second generation (beginning in 1996) went to a unibody design, then back to body-on-frame for the third gen in 2005, and finally unibody for the fourth and fifth generations in 2013 and 2022, respectively.
Anyhow, most drivers tend to venerate the general characteristics of a unibody crossover—comfortable ride, more interior space, good fuel economy—over those of a traditional SUV unless hardcore off-roading and heavy trailer use are in order. Here, the modern Pathfinder shines. It’s all-day comfortable for a family and still manages 23 mpg combined with all-wheel drive.
The complaints about transmissions have been quelled, as this latest generation has been outfitted with a nine-speed automatic transmission rather than Nissan’s beleaguered CVT. A 3.5-liter V6 making 284 hp gives plenty of confidence in nearly all conditions, and a 6,000-pound towing capacity lets you drag a small boat, camper, or utility trailer with ease. The fact that you can get this comfort, safety, space, and utility for under $50,000, give or take, is remarkable.
What Is Heritage, Anyhow?
Automakers have to walk a fine line when discussing their greatest hits. After all, the OEM doesn’t profit from the sale of a classic. But goodwill towards a brand or a specific model can be built upon this heritage—something that many emerging automakers may find out the hard way. Nissan has been building vehicles for over 90 years, and like any manufacturer of any consumer product, it can count on the baked-in affinity from a prior purchase to influence the next buying decision.
As enthusiasts, it’s hard to find any love for a crossover like the modern Nissan Pathfinder. There is nothing here that ignites the passion of someone who loves to drive. Sure, nostalgia may emerge in proximity to other important life events—like the baby I brought home in my old Pathfinder—but to the everyday automotive consumer, dependability and suitability for everyday needs tend to be primary drivers of new vehicle purchases.
It’d be easy to say that Nissan doesn’t know what it’s doing when it comes to long-established nameplates like the Pathfinder, as the character shifts between a rugged SUV and a soft crossover over the years have been so dramatic. But in calendar year 2023, Nissan moved 66,986 units, not far from the model’s historic high of 77,770 in 2013 and a massive rise from the nadir of 2009 when only 14,900 Pathfinders were sold. The upticks are neatly matched with the transitions away from a traditional body-on-frame platform, as it turns out.
It seems that despite the clamoring for a more rugged vehicle from the loud, over-represented enthusiast market, those doing the buying want something more like what is in showrooms now. And that’s OK. With the improvements to this latest generation, the 2024 Nissan Pathfinder is a solid vehicle that will likely be a perfect choice for many families.
But that won’t stop me from looking at auction sites for a first-generation Pathfinder for my own driveway. Life may be, as the song goes, a highway—but sometimes the road less traveled is a path worth finding.
