2026 Nissan Pathfinder: A tougher three-row SUV
The popular SUV, now in its 40th season, gets a new look inside and out and a bigger touchscreen, and keeps emphasis on its ruggedness.
2026 Nissan Pathfinder Rock Creek: One last installment in the three-row SUV comparison.
Price: The Rock Creek trim level starts at $45,000, with all-wheel drive standard.
What others are saying: “Highs: Good-looking exterior, hushed cabin at cruising speeds, stout maximum towing capacity. Lows: Boring to drive, stiff ride, third row is too cramped for adults,” says Car and Driver.
What Nissan is saying: “Rugged looks, rugged capability.”
Reality: Probably not going to alter anyone’s path.
What’s new: The Pathfinder gets a new look outside, a better dashboard design inside, and a bigger touchscreen.
Competition: On the heels of the comparison of the Santa Fe, Palisade, and CX-90, I found this test in my files. I was holding out for more three-rows but none seem to be on the horizon.
In addition to the other three, you can also compare the Buick Enclave, Honda Pilot, Kia Telluride, Toyota Highlander, Toyota Grand Highlander, and Volkswagen Atlas.
Up to speed: The only note about acceleration was about it being not that sprightly. This is contradicted by Car and Driver numbers, which put the 0-60 acceleration in the Rock Creek edition to be 6.7 seconds.
My Pathfinder test was a little more abridged than most; still, some vehicles feel slower (or faster) than the numbers indicate, and this one is definitely not exuding power.
The 3.5-liter V-6 makes 284 horsepower, a match for the CX-90’s 280 and the Palisade’s 287. (The Santa Fe lags at a mere 230.)
Shifty: The shift lever is a mouselike joystick with a square head, standard in Nissans now. It functions just fine.
A manual mode allows you to adjust the nine gears yourself via paddles.
On the road: The Pathfinder is cushy in the handling department. There’s not a lot of country road thrills, which is par for the three-row SUV course — or at least has historically been. Plenty of examples have been added that make you forget what you’re driving sometimes, especially the CX-90.
The highway handling is fairly cushy as well. I confess between weather and health issues I only put a scant 65 miles or so on the Nissan — about a fourth of my average seat time — but I think I can safely say the steering is cushy as well. I seemed to be drifting a lot in my lane.
Sadly, that cushiness disappears when PennDot doesn’t get around to fixing certain stretches of highways. The bounciness on U.S. 202 just north of West Chester is truly enhanced by the suspension.
Driver’s Seat: Cushy is also the best way to describe the Driver’s Seat. I’m always defaulting to “comfortable and supportive” for the seats, but here’s one that’s a little on the soft side. That may be your thing.
The gauges are old-school Nissan, with their favorite typeface and real dials and a fairly easy-to-navigate screen array.
Friends and stuff: The middle-row captains chairs are not uncomfortable but they are a little on the flat side, with no squeeze to hold passengers in place. Perhaps that’s more of an issue when Mr. Driver’s Seat is at the wheel; while I’m thinking “Whee!!”, the other occupants are thinking “Ulp!!”
The seat moves forward and back and has a bit of recline.
It appeared rear-seat passengers would be stuck in purgatory, as the seat sits quite low and looks awfully uninviting. But I hopped back there with the middle row pushed up a bit and found it wasn’t too horrible. My head did not touch the ceiling and my feet had plenty of space under the seat. You’ll get to know your knees a little better but even that felt OK.
Cargo space roughly matches the Santa Fe at 16.6, 45, and 80.5 cubic feet depending on what’s up and what’s down. The Palisade won this arena while the CX-90 lost.
Nissan touts the Pathfinder’s available 6,000 pounds of towing capacity. The Palisade and the CX-90 each pull 5,000 pounds, while the Santa Fe just 4,500.
In and out: The front and middle rows are easy enough to get into, but with a bit of a hop up. The middle seat gets out of the way for the rear row, but the wheel well cuts into the door and makes entry and exit a balancing act.
What’s worse, if you use the power seat button to move it out of the way, it will return to the rearmost position and cause the rear row occupant’s legs to buckle. It doesn’t matter where you had the manual lever set. (I could totally see my older brother torturing me with this, and not just as teens.)
Play some tunes: Everything is in the 12.3-inch touchscreen except for volume control. The screen works pretty well for finding features, but adjusting the playback is tricky using graphics.
Sound from the system is an A- to an A; many songs sounded really clear.
Keeping warm and cool: The HVAC controls are separate from the touchscreen, yay, but only the temperature is controlled by dials. Everything else involves fussy little buttons. Boo!
Fuel economy: Speaking of boo, the Pathfinder was running around 13 mpg in the few short trips I’d taken at first. I intentionally put it on the highway for about 50 miles just to see it rise, and it did — to 17.
Where it’s built: Smyrna, Tenn.
How it’s built: Consumer Reports predicts the Pathfinder reliability to be a 3 out of 5.
In the end: Nothing about the Pathfinder knocks the others out of place, unless you like the ride soft and the visits to the Wawa frequent.