Jeep Nation

Here's how it works: Let's say you're driving down an open stretch of highway in your chili-pepper red Jeep Wrangler (never just "red," please--it's chili-pepper red). You're perched above other cars on the road; the gas tank is full; the sky is clear. In short, life is good.

Then, on the horizon, you spot another Wrangler approaching. This one is blue (gunmetal blue, to those of us in the know). As the other Jeep draws close, you can make out the driver--a good-looking guy sporting a yellow bandanna. Your hand rises in an almost imperceptible wave from atop the steering wheel. Mr. Bandanna knows the drill. With a slight nod, he lifts three fingers in return.

To the outside observer, this exchange may look like random highway flirtation, but Jeep drivers will recognize it as the Jeep Wave--a customary acknowledgement of the kinship and simpatico shared among Jeep owners. You might say there's a Cult of the Jeep--a group that's every bit as clubby as a sorority or fraternity. Only there is no initiation ceremony, no dues, and no membership card. All you need is a love of Jeeps (and, ideally, a Jeep of your own).

I first fell in love with Jeeps a few years ago, during a weekend trip to Chicago. I cruised into town in my sensible 1993 Chevy Cavalier to pay a visit to my college pal Leslie. Since I'd last seen her, Leslie had become a true urban warrior, navigating a battered Jeep through her downtown neighborhood with a soldier's dogged confidence.

I'd never before known anyone with a Jeep. Immediately I was smitten by those distinctive round headlights, the rumbling five-speed transmission, the worn shocks that almost bounced me out of my seat every time we went over a pothole. When Leslie let me behind the wheel, it was love at first gear. By the end of that weekend, when I turned my own car toward home, the Cavalier's days were numbered.

I bought my first Jeep last spring. Like a lot of Jeep owners, I suppose I was attracted to the rugged, four-wheel-drive lifestyle, even if at heart I'm more Martha Stewart Living than Outside. In fact, Chrysler estimates that only 12-15% of Jeep owners actually use their vehicles to go off-road. Me? I've been off-road only once--onto the sidewalk, that is, during a particularly treacherous parallel-parking attempt. But for me, the allure of a Jeep is knowing that I could head off the beaten track if I chose to do so. From 9 to 5, I'm a mild-mannered writer and editor, but after hours, in my chili-pepper red Jeep, I'm tough, independent, wild.

Of course, other 4-wheel-drive vehicles offer the same appeal. So what makes Jeep owners so loyal and enthusiastic? Maybe it's the sense of history. Jeeps were first developed in 1940 by the U.S. Army to assist in the overseas war effort. Ever since, they've enjoyed almost mythical stature as symbols of rugged American durability. John Wayne didn't drive a Ford Explorer in all those World War II movies--he drove a Jeep. And so did Radar O'Reilly on M.A.S.H.--proof that even the most mild-mannered among us needs to sling a little mud now and then.

The special appeal of Jeeps is not lost on Chrysler, which actively fosters a sense of camaraderie among Jeep owners. Every year, the company holds an event known as Camp Jeep, an off-road training weekend for new Jeep owners and seasoned enthusiasts alike. This year's event, held August 10-12 in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, drew hundreds of Jeep enthusiasts. Jeep also organizes dozens of regional Jeep Jamborees, off-road events for more advanced drivers. Such promotions appear to be paying off, as Chrysler sells about 80,000 Jeeps each year.

In addition to attending such events, devoted Jeep owners maintain Jeep-themed websites, participate in Jeep list-serves, and spend big bucks to soup up their vehicles with assorted of add-ons and accessories. And, of course, there's the Jeep Wave. Try finding that kind of esprit de corps among Geo Metro owners.