What's the difference?
If you believe there should be a ute version of everything, Jeep has long been there for you with a tray-backed Gladiator version of its iconic Wrangler off-roader.
But the Gladiator has hardly attracted the same love as its mainstream ute rivals, preferring a more lifestyle-oriented vibe, which it leans into extra hard for this 2026 update.
While it might look pretty much identical from the outside, Jeep has made some pretty significant changes underneath to make it a better overall offering, with a nice reduction in price, too.
So is it now worth your consideration? Read on to find out.
Hybrid campers tread the line between caravan comfort and camper trailer-manoeuvrability and are touted as somewhat of a new thing; almost an evolution of comfort as more people look for a perfect camping experience.
But camper-trailers like the Cub Longreach LE prove that the concept has been around for decades.
It hasn't always been called the Longreach, but this high-walled, super-sized, off-road camper-trailer was one of the first to offer caravan-like comfort and space in a product that'll go anywhere off-road*. (* In terms of reasonable use and having obviously scrutinised your camper's warranty conditions before setting off to make sure you're covered for that sort of usage.)
The 2019 LE takes the comfort levels even further, so we grabbed one for a night to check it out.
The Gladiator is far from the most practical, versatile, or sensible dual-cab on the market. Not going to lie, though. This is the most fun I’ve had in a ute in a long time.
This isn’t the camper for everyone – my guess is that plenty of people look at this and find it too sparse, too basic. I kinda get it.
But there are very few campers which offer the same amount of open, internal space, or that are as easy to set up.
That the Longreach, albeit with a few different names, has lasted so long on the Cub Campers' product roster is a testament to its versatility and ability to accommodate a small family on off-road camper trips.
It's arguably one of the forerunners of the hybrid camper scene, and it's now starting to evolve with campers' desires for more comfort.
However, also like an old Defender, the Gladiator’s interior is full of compromises to maintain its iconic design.
The seating position is awkwardly high, which is fine when off-roading, but can be limiting when you’re just driving around a city, and the footwell is half taken up by a transmission tunnel so there’s nowhere to rest your foot.
The door cards are pretty basic because the doors are removable (although Jeep stresses this is only legal on private property), but elsewhere there’s much-appreciated levels of functionality in an era of touch-based controls.
The centre control panel, for example, features physical dials for high-use functions and toggles or buttons for everything else. It’s mercifully easy to use and old-school motorists will also love the physical shifters for gear selection and the transfer case alongside. And an analogue handbrake is an increasingly rare sight.
There are even buttons we didn’t ask for, like the four pre-wired auxiliary switches, and while the dash trades away a fully digital panel for a digital supervision screen with analogue dials either side, it suits the character of the car.
It’s not the most comfortable space to be in, however. Not only is the seat base super high off the ground, but despite the Gladiator’s imposing dimensions the front seat somehow feels narrow.
Storage is okay, but not on the same level as many rival utes. The basic doors score nettings on each side, with two deep and useful bottle holders in the centre console. The armrest box is two-tiered which is handy, and there’s a small glove box. Outside of this, there’s not a lot of storage up front.
The rear seat is decent when it comes to space for the ute segment, although it is also very high off the ground and hard to clamber into thanks to the way the rear door is shaped. Once you’re in there, be sure not to smack your head on the frame, which seems like it could be an easy thing to do.
Again, nets feature in the doors, with two more nets on the backs of the front seats, which also feature luggage hooks. There are dual adjustable air vents back there and two bottle holders moulded out of the centre console. They're nicely-sized, but will eat into the legroom of any adult you want to put in the centre rear position, making it extra cramped if you have three across.
The back seat features some things I’ve never seen before, though. There’s a huge storage area underneath the seats with its own lid, and some limited storage space behind the seat backs which features a removable Bluetooth speaker which also automatically re-charges when it’s docked back there. Cool.
The rear window features an opening port, which is also rare, while all the main storage compartments are lockable for when you want to leave the car with the roof and/or doors off.
Capacities and payloads have never been a strong point for the Gladiator. The tray measures 1531mm long, 1443mm wide and 1137mm between the arches, making it unable to fit a standard-sized Australian pallet. The payload is also limited at just 693kg, far short of the close-to-one-tonne many work-focused dual-cabs can hit.
However the tray isn’t for show only, featuring an array of useful tie-down points and a built-in rail system to help secure all sorts of objects. There are even steps built into the rear bumper design for easier access and a full-size spare wheel underneath.
The braked trailer towing capacity is limited to just 2721kg which is also short of the industry benchmark 3500kg, all of which may limit its use as a work vehicle, or even its appeal as a touring vehicle. I could see how these capacities are easily exceeded with a rooftop tent, recovery gear, a fridge, supplies and at least one passenger.
For a rear-fold camper-trailer, the space inside couldn't be more practical. The long body and high sides mean that when the camper is open and set up, it has a lot more space than most. Behind the bed, for instance, there is enough space for Cub to have fit a small dinette.
The dinette has cushioned benches for two and a swivel table that can also become a counter over the rear floor area.
The camper's length also means that the rear floor area is massive. It is easily big enough to lie a couple of kids on, or if your nest is empty, to set up some camp chairs and a table to enjoy a covered living area.
It is still a rear-fold camper-trailer, though so, despite the fact it has nearly twice the space of other hybrid-style campers, it's very sparsely furnished. There's no internal kitchenette or anything like that.
The Gladiator is interesting to drive for many reasons. Mainly, because as a purpose-built off-roader it's a little compromised when it comes to on-road manners.
For example, the high seating position and tapered bonnet shape might be great for visibility off-road, but the boxy design of the chunky A-pillars (designed to keep the car in one piece when the doors roof and windscreen are removed) make it a little difficult to see properly around corners at T-junctions or roundabouts in the confines of a city.
Even proximity of my head to the roof presented a problem when trying to see whether traffic was coming at an intersection with the vehicle angled downhill.
The next alarming trait is how vague the steering is while on the tarmac. It’s an unfortunate characteristic of the Gladiator’s rugged live front axle, making this ute a bit of a handful to steer at low speeds. And it tracks all over the place on the freeway, requiring constant vigilance and steering input from the driver at higher speeds.
It’s also noisy, despite this 2026 version featuring extended sound deadening in the cabin. It needed it. The knobbly mud terrain tyres make their presence felt through a resonant droning entering the cabin at all speeds.
Then, at freeway pace, the wind noise from the Gladiator’s blocky shape picks up. You can feel the sound waves leaking in through the removable doors and plasticky removable roof. There are even silly things like being able to feel reverberations of the sound system through the accelerator pedal.
So, I should hate the Gladiator, right?
Wrong.
This thing is ridiculous amounts of old-fashioned fun. The V6 engine is keen to rev and the transmission lets you ride the gears out, creating a throaty roar and lurching acceleration reminiscent of old Commodores.
While the mud terrain rubber is noisy and offers questionable levels of grip on tarmac or in the wet, the thick sidewall combines with coil springs and chunky Tenneco shock absorbers all-around to make for a pretty decent ride for a ladder-frame vehicle.
In addition, we took the Gladiator for a quick off-highway jaunt as its design intends and it performed as-expected. It has great approach and departure angles, with good visibility for peering over moguls and into ruts or dips.
The mechanical hardware feels up to the task, and while it might slip once or twice as the less sophisticated traction systems (compared to, say, a modern Defender) find their bearings, the Gladiator ate up the moderately challenging trails we found for it.
The chunky tyres come into their own, with the sidewall offering confidence, and the car clambers about with relative ease. Obviously, the enormous 3488mm wheelbase and resulting 18.4-degree breakover angle are the Gladiator’s Achilles heel, making me think twice about cresting certain hills or objects, and making this ute particularly prone to cringe-inducing underbody scraping.
Still, despite its comparatively unsophisticated approach and lack of environmental responsibility the Gladiator is a huge amount of fun to drive.
Cub Campers are famously good to tow, and even the largest of them lives up to the reputation.
As big as it is, the Longreach LE is quite light thanks to the effort Cub puts into engineering. As a result, it's not a strain, even for older dual-cabs like the D22 Navara.
And because it isn't any higher or wider than a modern SUV, there was very little wind-drag or buffeting as we cruised along the highway.
Cub developed the camper's Australian-made and -designed independent, coil-spring suspension and the set-up yields excellent ride in any conditions.
For the LE, Cub has added an extra shock-absorber each side to improve its performance even on the most corrugated roads.
An AL-KO off-road ball hitch is standard but can be upgraded to the Click-Lock version if you'd prefer that or need a more low-profile hitch.
In reverse, the long drawbar makes it an easy camper to manoeuvre around a campsite, plus it has enough size that the tow-vehicle driver never really loses sight of it while positioning it.