Why I Preordered The New Scout Traveler, And Why It Will Never Replace My BMW i3

The new Scout Traveler blew me away when it debuted for the first time yesterday in Nashville. It’s a solid rear axle-equipped electric SUV that solves range anxiety concerns using a gasoline range extender instead of 1,000 extra pounds of pricey, dirty-to-source batteries. It’s the perfect setup for 2024, especially for a vehicle designed to tow. Yesterday, I put down a preorder, and though I do think I will actually end up buying the Traveler (if not initially, eventually), it will never replace my BMW i3, because my little BMW has something the Scout doesn’t.

As a journalist, I have a loud megaphone to declare my opinions, but usually — and this is the case for most journalists — it feels like the industry isn’t listening. Yesterday, though, I felt heard; it felt like Scout built a car just for me based on the articles I’ve been writing over the past decade. Obviously, this isn’t true, but still: The company built pretty much exactly the car I’ve been asking for for years. And, knowing how lucky I am for that to happen in my lifetime, I’m putting my money where my mouth is. I’m buying the new Scout Traveler.

Of course, execution is as important as ideation, so I’m going to have to test drive the machine. I also think preordering cars is a bit of a silly concept, but I’ve been asking for this vehicle for years, and I’m happy to provide a $100 interest-free loan to help Scout make it happen. Just to demonstrate how perfectly the Scout Traveler is allowing me to finally put my money where my mouth is, let’s go through some of its attributes that I’ve been asking for forever.

Range Extender

I want to keep this section short since I’ve been obsessing over range-extended BMW i3s for far too long now (I own two of them at the moment).

I implore you to read my article “America’s Plug-In Hybrids Aren’t Good Enough,” because it includes lines like this:

I believe that the fastest way to get as many people driving electric as often as possible (ostensibly the U.S’s goal, since it should theoretically have positive climate change implications) is to offer range-extended electric cars — in other words, PHEVs that are electric cars first, gasoline cars second. And I think not offering these cars has jeopardized perhaps one of the biggest opportunities the auto industry has at having a positive climate impact.

I fleshed that point out in a later story titled “America Focusing On Electric Cars And Not Plug-In Hybrids Was A Huge Mistake.” Here’s me calling out GM for its foolish decision to skip hybrids for BEVs:

I’ll repeat a quote from GM president Mark Reuss — one quite similar to the one from Mary Barra in my lede paragraph. This one’s from The Wall Street Journal:

If I had a dollar more to invest, would I spend it on a hybrid?…Or would I spend it on the answer that we all know is going to happen, and get there faster and better than anybody else?”

Let’s put this quote into different terms. Reuss is implying that it makes more sense to spend limited battery resources to get one V8 Chevy Silverado driver to trade in for a ridiculous 200 kWh (!) Silverado EV than it does to take that hideously large battery, split it into four, and get four Silverado V8 drivers to stop cruising around getting 13 MPG and spewing CO2 into the atmosphere. It’s nonsense, but this is exactly what GM chose: fewer, pricier EVs instead of more, cheaper, more palatable (especially to EV skeptics not ready to go full-BEV), lighter PHEVs that could potentially each be better for the environment than their EV counterpart (and certainly, when you factor in the number of people now able to drive around predominantly electricity instead of gas, overall it’s much, much better for the environment, as Toyota concludes with its 1:6:90 rule).

How’s that working out for GM?

This isn’t a “hindsight is 20:20 situation.” This was obvious. The idea that you’d get everyone to go straight from ICEs to BEVs is preposterous, but when shareholders want a company that seems like it’s on the cutting edge, promising to go all-BEV by 2025 (or whenever) was the sexy thing for many companies to do instead of actually listening to the customer.

Then when Motor Trend published a truly absurd story decrying PHEVs, I responded with “MotorTrend’s Ridiculous Arguments Against Plug-In Hybrids: Just Say Hell No.” Here’s me taking on the silly “but not 100% of PHEV owners plug in all the time” non-argument:

So the data is murky, but that doesn’t matter because not every owner has to plug in all the time for PHEVs to make sense. If only a third of truck drivers plug in daily and drive 95 percent of their miles in EV mode instead of spewing emissions from a 21 MPG (or lower) truck, that’s going to be a significant win for the environment. And to be honest, I bet the figure would be above a third for pickup trucks, since driving them on gas leads to such a significant added cost for the driver.

What’s more, it’s not a given that all PHEVs have to be less efficient than equivalent gas cars when they’re not charged. A range-extended EV running on its gas engine could, in theory, be more efficient than an equivalent ICE vehicle since the engine is able to run at a steady RPM to act as a generator.

And that leads me to a significant issue with these anti-PHEV assertions: They assume that all PHEVs must be like the ones currently available. Just because modern PHEVs aren’t good enough (as I wrote in a previous story) doesn’t mean future PHEVs can’t be different.

Anyway, I’m a true believer in range-extended EVs as a means to get as many people driving electric as quickly as possible. Climate change is a cumulative emissions issue, so waiting five years for folks to drive a fully-electric car is worse than getting them to drive a range-extended EV that they drive in electric mode the vast majority of the time today. And in fact, the range-extended EV could be more environmentally friendly, even long-term, than the fully-electric car if the owner doesn’t use the gas range extender that often.

Even Peter Rawlinson, CEO of Lucid, agrees that range-extenders make some amount of sense, especially in pickup truck applications.

Perhaps more importantly, as someone who drives a range-extended EV daily, I just find them fun. They’re lightweight and electric — a great duo.

Bench Seat

In 2020 I wrote the story “Why Now Is The Perfect Time To Bring Back The Bench Seat.” From that piece:

If you’re a product planner in the auto industry, you’re looking to not only equip your future vehicle with the tech and safety features that folks shopping in your segment are looking for, but you’re also keen to make your car stand out. You’re seeking a feature that you can market as a fun, whiz-bang option—something that your dealers can mention to get buyers excited.

That something could be a bench seat. Just look at the Land Rover Defender that launched last year. That split-bench seat was a hit, with automotive media outlets writing stories solely about how magnificent that flat plane of butt-cushioning is.

[…]

On many EVs, the floor is completely flat (or nearly—sometimes the cable from the underhood electronics to the battery pack creates a little bump), meaning a bench seat would have some real utility. One could sit there for a long trip, comfortably. So there’s really no reason why many modern EVs shouldn’t sit three across in the front row.

Tailgate

Another attribute that I have lauded for years is the tailgate — a great place to hang out, cook, change your baby’s diaper, or whatever. Tailgates rule, and I’ve been preaching this gospel for years. We recently published an article about the new Ford Expedition SUV titled “The 2025 Ford Expedition Gets A Cool Split-Tailgate And A Gloriously Weird Interior You’d Actually Want To Live With.” From that piece by Thomas:

Not only should this reduce the total swing space of the liftgate, it should also make loading heavy cargo without scratching the bumper easier, prevent cargo from rolling out if you’re parked uphill, and with a 500-pound weight capacity, give you somewhere to sit. Well done, Ford

When Jason and I co-authored a review of the Jeep Grand Wagoneer, we had this to say:

One disappointing thing that makes up both the interior and exterior is the rear hatchback. Specifically, the mere fact that it is one. On a car that feels as premium and costs as much as the Wagoneer does, you kind of expect something more than just a hatch. A hatch is fine, but nothing more. The original Wagoneer, though, had a tailgate design, and there’s something about that that just feels more thoughtful and flexible and luxurious (Land Rovers and Rolls Royce SUVs have them).

Rear Mounted Spare

I wrote an article six years ago titled “The Proper Spot For A Spare Tire Is On The Rear Door.” Here’s what I wrote in it:

Packaging the tire on the back door is simply the best solution. It doesn’t eat into cargo space, it doesn’t compromise ground clearance or departure angle, it doesn’t limit how big the spare can be (though it may require some reinforcement of the door if you put 40s on it), it doesn’t get too filthy during off-roading, it’s easily accessible and, most importantly, it’s downright sexy.

Seriously, show me one SUV that doesn’t look better with a spare tire on the back? Hell, even the tiny Ford EcoSport looks better with a big cylinder hanging off its tail:

Plus, you can customize these tire carriers with political opinions or funny off-road-y text, so that’s always fun.

I pointed out some downsides to a rear-mounted spare — with a big one being that it doesn’t allow for a tailgate:

To be sure, there are a few downsides. For one, the tire reduces rearward visibility, and it also limits what style of rear door automakers can employ—a tailgate and full lift-gate are both out of the question if the tire’s mounted directly to the door. So you’re pretty much limited to some sort of swing-gate unless there’s a separate swing-out carrier (in which a tailgate or a full liftgate are possible). In any case, getting that rear door open is made harder because that large mass is in the way.

Notice how I point out that there is one way to get both the coveted tailgate and a rear-mounted tire carrier — offering a spare tire carrier that is separate from the door. Like on this Jeep CJ-7:

Column Shifter

One thing I’ve been preaching for years is that automakers should stop putting shifters on the center tunnel of a car, between the driver and passenger. Modern shifters are electronic, no longer reaching down mechanically via linkages that move rods to change gears. Those shifters should be out of the way so you can use the space to the right of the driver for storage. Where, then, should the shifter go? I’ve always believed the column is the perfect space, because that space isn’t being utilized for anything else except maybe one or two control stalks.

In fact, I recently wrote the article “GM Nailed The New Chevy Equinox EV, But Would You Actually Buy One?” The article lauds Chevy’s choice to use a column shifter. From that piece:

Yes, a column shifter! No weird screen-shifter, no waste-of-space floor shifter — a column shifter. It’s the right shifter for 2024, and it frees up all this space for cupholders, a phone slot, USB-C ports, and a big storage bin just below the center stack:

When I reviewed a 2021 Ford F-150, I wrote:

The tan trim on the lower dash and doors, along with the column shifter, makes this my preferred interior choice, even if higher trim levels get the bigger screen and the nicer materials.

When I drove an Isuzu diesel box truck with a floor shifter, I wasn’t thrilled, writing:

there’s a standard floor-mounted PRNDL shifter (a waste of space if you ask me; this should be a column shifter), 

Here’s what I said about the current-gen Chevy Colorado’s floor shifter:

The Colorado is a truck, after all, and if you look at the transmission shifter (shown above) in the truck — an electronic, center tunnel-mounted shifter that mimics the look and feel of an old mechanical PRNDL — it’s clear GM understands that truck customers like chunky things, even if they’re not entirely logical (the shifter is a waste of space)

Here’s what I said in my Porsche Cayenne review:

A big chunky shifter is wasteful; instead, I think shifters should go onto steering columns, which aren’t used to store anything else, anyway.

Porsche didn’t quite give us a column-mounted shifter, but the new Cayenne’s lever on the dashboard just to the right of the column is the next best thing.

I also lamented the floor-shifter in the new Ford Ranger, writing in my review:

I personally don’t love floor-shifters; I think they’re a waste of space compared to a column-shifter, but Ford insists that its customers want a place to rest their hand while they drive.

You get the idea: I think all non-manual-transmission shifters should be on the column.

Solid Axle

If you’ve been reading my work since I became a full-time journalist in 2015, you know my full name is David “Solid Axle” Tracy. I believe live axles are the best overall choice when it comes to off-roading at low speeds. I’ve been saying this for years. Here’s what I wrote when the new Defender debuted back in 2019:

The setup is also, at least traditionally, considered less robust than a solid axle, and what’s more, it’s definitely more difficult to lift, in part, because the angles of the constant-velocity joints (the things inside the accordion-looking rubber boots on the axle shafts) could get too steep and prematurely fail. So don’t expect to see lots of new Defenders modified to this extent

Here’s a quote from my review of the Rivian R1T:

At a given ride height, the suspension flexes well enough to keep tires on the ground most of the time, though this isn’t a long-arm suspension setup, and it’s certainly not a solid axle design. As you can see in the video I showed before of the R1T in Moab, overall suspension articulation is modest when compared to solid-axle off-roaders.

Here’s what I wrote in my Bronco deep-dive:

But there are some distinct advantages of a solid front axle for off-roading.

The Jeep’s axle shafts are housed inside of a big, strong steel tube, protected against the elements, whereas the Bronco’s axles are exposed. What’s more, whereas the Jeep utilizes universal joints to allow for smooth power delivery to a wheel that’s turning and bouncing over terrain, the Bronco uses CV joints. Among hard-core off-road enthusiasts, many prefer universal joints, as they don’t have rubber boots that can tear and compromise bearings, and they can be easily replaced on the trail using nothing more than a big rock and a few sockets.

Other than durability (again, it’s hard to beat the durability of a giant steel tube, though I bet the Bronco’s forged aluminum lower A-arm is tough enough), another advantage of a solid axle is articulation. And Ford has no problems admitting this.

As someone who loves durability and “flex,” I’m a big solid axle fan, which is why I love that Scout threw one into the Traveler and Terra, even if only in the rear (see above).

Why The Scout Will Not Replace My BMW i3

So Scout basically built my dream car. It has everything I want: A range-extender to support a primarily EV powertrain/drivetrain; a tailgate; a rear-mounted spare; a column shifter; a bench seat; and a solid rear axle. It’s what I’ve been asking for for years, so I’m putting my money where my mouth is; I’ve preordered one:

But don’t think that means this vehicle will replace my 2021 BMW i3S. No, my BMW i3S perfectly fits what I think a car should be, and while the Scout is close to what I think an SUV should be, it falls flat in one critical area: It’s too big.

The Traveler (and the Terra) is huge. At 91.6 inches, it’s wider than a Hummer EV and Ford Bronco Raptor [Update: Actually, 91.6 is WITH MIRRORS, per Scout. So these aren’t quite as wide as the Hummer, but still wider than the Bronco Raptor. -DT]. That’s pretty insane. And at almost 208 inches long, it’s over 10 inches longer than a Bronco Raptor — it’s about the size of a Chevy Tahoe!

This is a huge problem for me philosophically. As an engineer, I strongly believe that the right daily driver is one that requires the least amount of energy to be propelled down the road. This concept can be quantified in terms of “Vehicle Demand Energy,” which can be reduced by making a car aerodynamic and lightweight. The Traveler seems like the antithesis to this. The i3 is the posterchild.

For a vehicle that I’m going to use for daily commuting, I cannot justify the Scout Traveler. Sure, it will be propelled almost entirely by electricity that originated from my wall-plug, but that alone doesn’t mean it’s a sufficiently efficient/responsible car, especially not compared to another electrified vehicle that requires less juice to get down the road.

For this reason, the i3 stays.

If I am so lucky to have a large family in the future, I could justify the Traveler a bit more, maybe as my fiancee’s car to transport around rugrats, but right now, as a vehicle for just me or just her, it’s not quite gonna work. But given how much I want this machine due to the fact that it includes so many features I’ve been asking for for so long, I think it’s probably time to start having kids. There’s no other solution.