4Runner one of the last true go-anywhere SUVs

I am either the worst or the best person to review the Toyota 4Runner TRD Pro.

Worst, because I own a 2014 4Runner, having bought one after testing two different 4Runners in two separate winters. By default, I am susceptible to being biased or less than critical because I firmly believe these oldschool, body-on-frame beasts with their solid rear axles are the best of the SUV breed. Call me Fake News in the comments, if you must.

But I also know how this truck ticks, and I understand its strengths and shortcomings. Having explored every detail of the fifth-generation model since its debut in 2010 and taken them or used them in the way they were intended, I have experienced what this SUV can and can’t do.

The 2017 TRD Pro 4Runner, which came to Canada earlier this year, is now the most expensive in the model range, which include the base model, the TRD Off Road (formerly known as the Trail), and the Limited, which is available with or without a third row of seats. The Pro costs $52,195 and comes in three colours: red, white or a fetching grey Toyota calls Cement. There is one interior colour: black with red stitching.

All Pros get the same 4.0-litre V6 engine and fivespeed automatic transmission (yes, still only five gears, but it is bulletproof ) found in all 4Runners. Only the Limited gets full-time 4WD; the Pro gets a part-time system with manual transfer case.

Do I like the TRD Pro? No, I love it. I might even adore it more than my Limited, mostly because of the way the Pro rides. It is surprisingly more supple than the Limited, thanks to the Bilstein shocks, remote reservoirs and TRDtuned front springs, instead of the Limited’s tighter XREAS sport suspension. The lighter 17-inch TRD wheels probably help and the rims look good in black, although they’re hard to clean.

Where the Pro is more adept at smoothing over beat-up roads, the Limited is better at holding them. The difference speaks to the end use of the two: The Limited is most likely to spend most of its life on the road, while the Pro makes good use of mud, dirt and sand. That’s where its big front skid plate and angled front chin, below a unique heritage grille, will be as useful as they are attractive. The Limited is more serious; the Pro is more fun. Either can tow 5,000 pounds and the rear windows still power down.

The Pro in Canada does not, however, get the coveted Kinetic Dynamic Suspension System (KDSS) that comes on the less-expensive Off Road version ($46,720), often chosen for its deft offroad trickery. However, the Pro does get a locking rear differential and a multiterrain management system that makes it easy to pick the drive mode that best suits the conditions, whether it’s rocks, sand or snow.

It also gets crawl control, which lets you focus on steering instead of throttle and braking when picking your way through gullies, rocks or steep hills. The Pro and Off Road are, therefore, the Bear Grylls and Ernest Shackletons of the backwoods. Both are willing to adventure, but each brings a different character. Canadian Pros also get a sunroof, which U.S. models don’t. So what’s not to like? These trucks can be noisy, not nearly as quiet as a basic Ford F-150. The engine — the same one used for the past seven years with no updates — can be thirsty. We averaged 12.4 L/100 km on the highway. With 270 horsepower and 278 pound-feet of torque, power is wanting in the mid-range, though it will hurry when the pedal is pushed hard. It really needs a turbo — or two. A sixth gear in the transmission would also help. The brakes, while effective, come with an unsettling amount of squish.

While I absolutely covet the Pro’s carbon-fibre centre console and cool TRD shift knob, I find it hard to believe the Pro doesn’t have auto climate control, or even a display to tell what the interior temperature is set to. The infotainment system’s touch screen is small at 6.1 inches, in this world of eight and 10-inch screens. Softex covered seats aren’t as nice as the leather recliners in the Limited and remain on the firm side. Allowable vehicle settings are few, and there’s no blind-spot monitoring, no tire-pressure monitoring system and no way to adjust the door locks without visiting the dealer. The interior hasn’t yet adopted LED lighting. It’s all very simplistic.

But I’ll tell you this: Nothing, absolutely nothing, drives quite like a 4Runner. There is something special about the way the hydraulic steering, heavy body-on-frame, throttle control and good visibility over a broad (but thin) hood work together to make for an honestly compelling experience behind the wheel. I am reminded of this every time I climb into my own truck. It simply feels great to drive. Dodge Viper ACR. But take that with a grain of salt, because with no independent moderating authority, Nürburgring times will always be open for debate as some laps are set with racing tires and others without, and there’s really nothing to prevent an automaker from being a little creative with the stopwatch.

Regardless of the time, the GT3 is a track weapon and one of the most direct driving experiences around.