The passing of the Nissan Terrano II was a sad event for me.
It’s a car I’ve always liked and as a consequence I drove it many times wearing either the Nissan or Ford Maverick badges.
While Ford dropped the car in favour of a rebadged Mazda that bombed thanks to the lack of a diesel, the Nissan carried on until it was replaced by the Pathfinder.
One of the few things the Terrano II and Pathfinder have in common is that they both rolled down production lines in Spain. While the Terrano was narrow, tall, and relatively compact the Pathfinder feels huge and often ungainly. And, I have to say, it’s not a car I have found reliable.
The first one I ever drove had a clutch pedal that stuck to the floor. I managed to drive the car home without using the clutch at all, the sort of thing us older drivers pride ourselves on. It’s all about balancing the engine revs and feeling the right time to swap cogs and can be achieved without graunching the gears if you get it right.
More recently, another tasty looking Pathfinder turned up, this time finished in black and wearing one of the Nissan press office’s MUD number plates.
Make no mistake, this is no apologist’s car. It’s big and in your face so there’s no harm in advertising its off-road credentials on the plate. Except that this car didn’t get anywhere off-road at all and never went far on it.
Warning lights quickly popped up on the fascia telling of malfunctions in the anti-lock and closely allied electronic stability program. And sometimes when I hit the brakes I could feel the anti-lock pumping even though it had no need to.
Evidently, enthusiastic off-roading can lead to problems if you create a bow wave that comes up and over the bonnet. The water can penetrate an electronic connector block and cause the display of fairy lights, or that’s what I’m told. The alternative explanation was that hitting it too hard with a power washer after its last user had finished with it may have had the same result.
Avoid the wading and power hoses, though, and the Pathfinder will blaze a trail just about anywhere, enabling it to live up to its name. In this respect it’s far more capable than the Terrano II, which offers as its only real advantage that it is narrower and fits through tighter gaps. It also came as a bouncy three door shortened car that’s great for towing but otherwise best forgotten.
Like the five door Terrano II, the Pathfinder also comes with seven seats. And, like the Terrano, outdoor types will love them in the Pathfinder because getting to them is good practice for the Matterhorn slopes. With the front seats set back for tall drivers, the middle row will not tumble properly for easy or dignified third row access.
After all this, you might think I don’t like the Pathfinder but you would be wrong. An old editor once told me that for every bad point a car has a good one and in a balanced report both should be mentioned. The list of Pathfinder good points is endless and the car will stand plenty of abuse in the school of hard physical knocks. It has a long 4x4 pedigree behind it, too.
The 2.5 litre turbodiesel Pathfinder is the only one to consider unless you can stand the pain of the rare 4.0 litre petrol V6. It’ll manage around 30 mpg and also has Group 14 insurance. Service intervals are 18,000 miles, or 9,000 for petrol cars.
A 54 plate SVE diesel is now £12,300, while only £22,000 will get you the Nissan on an 09 58 plate. The Nissan will pull three tonnes, too, only 500 kg less than a Land Rover Discovery and good enough for a big horse box.
Maurice Hardy
