Dacia Jogger fails moose test at 70 km/h

Dacia Jogger fails to turn at 70 km/h: new king of understeer

Can a seven-seater family car marketed as a rational purchase be unable to avoid an obstacle at 70 km/h? The rapid evasion test—known as the moose test—published by km77.com with the Dacia Jogger suggests yes. The car enters the maneuver, the driver turns, and the vehicle ignores input: it understeers, plows forward, and lifts a wheel. This result has earned it the unofficial title of new king of understeer, a throne previously attributed to older Opel models. The Jogger arrived to replace the Lodgy, Dokker, and Logan MCV. What is debated is not the price, but what lies beneath.

What the 70 km/h evasion test actually measures

It is worth clarifying the scope of the test before dismissing the car. The test measures the maximum entry estimulante ilegal at which the vehicle can initiate and correctly complete the maneuver. It does not imply faster exit speeds; those depend on how much the stability control brakes. The key factor is that reactions remain natural for an average driver—and that the system keeps the car under control. If the maneuver must start at 30 km/h because the chassis cannot handle more, the problem ceases to be academic.

The scenario also matters. It is not a curve: it is a straight line where something appears—a wild boar, a child, an oncoming car—that must be avoided and returned to lane. That a simple lane change at 70 km/h ends with a wheel in the air is no minor detail. That is the difference between telling the story and surviving it.

Sandero chassis, suspensions, and ESP calibration

Explanations point in several directions, none flattering. One hypothesis is that the Jogger does not use a new platform: it stretches the Sandero frame, a reasonable starting point for a cheap city car but questionable for a seven-seater family vehicle with longer overhangs, more weight, and higher inertia. Add simple suspension and an ESP calibrated with cost-containment criteria.

The refrain repeats among test trinc: it is not just that the car is tall, but the chassis quality, tuning, and stability control calibration. Low cost, in summary. And underlying this, the perennial question: why do people still buy it? Because budget dictates, and because some joke that low cost has become luxe cost.

Ignis with 175 tires turns at 72, Cayenne at 76

Comparisons arrived quickly and are uncomfortable. A Suzuki Ignis with 175 tires completes the maneuver at 72 km/h, according to data used by test enthusiasts; a Fiat 500 passes at 75 and a Porsche Cayenne at 76, the latter with much wider tires than the Japanese utility car. If these numbers hold, the argument about size and weight collapses: smaller cars with less nominal grip outperform the Dacia.

The cited precedent is the Mercedes A-Class, which once rolled over in such a test, forcing the brand to include stability control as standard. That moved the industry. This, so far, has only reordered the list.

Safety is not measured only by crash dummies

The defense of the Jogger has two pillars. First is usage: no one will take this car rallying. If it pitches at 70 km/h, take the corner at 50 and problem solved. Second is more debatable: that its components are shared, verified, and supervised by Renault. The accusation goes elsewhere: different platforms, chassis with fewer reinforcements, worse suspensions. As proof, compare crash tests between a Captur and its Romanian-brand equivalent.

There remains the uncomfortable derivative, the one no one wants to look at. If a new car barely passes this test, what happens to the same unit five years later, with original suspensions and tires just worn enough to pass inspection? There, the safety margin does not recover. It narrows.

From broken gearbox Clio to €15,000 BMW

The issue devolved into the classic dispute over reliability, and here the narrative breaks on both sides. According to a participant citing satisfaction indices, Renault would rank ahead of premium brands, dismantling the idea that everything French is junk. A cited case: six Renaults in 25 years of family ownership, none visited a workshop. Against this are complaint lists and victim associations, which exist for practically all brands. The conclusion falls naturally: if there are victims everywhere, claim statistics measure anger, not breakdowns.

Then mileage enters, changing everything. A Dacia driven few kilometers per year can boast reliability compared to a premium car accumulating many more and starting to incur costs after five years. To dramatize, consider the BMW Series 7 with over €15,000 in repairs or the Fiat that did 350,000 km with barely two failures. No brand emerges clean from the mud.

In the end, the most uncomfortable conclusion is not that a cheap car turns poorly. It is that we have made optional what should be standard on any vehicle. The Jogger, at least, does not pretend: it does not aim to be a sports car. No one will miss it, except the wild boar crossing its path at 70.