We need to get it out of the way from the outset. Yes, the latest Nissan Navara is essentially a rebadged and updated Mitsubishi Triton of the same generation. Yes, it’s the same body and driveline. No, it no longer has coil springs all round like previous generations.
Cool, now that’s out of the way, I wanted to look at the 2026 Nissan Navara ST-X subjectively. Does it feel like you’re driving a Nissan or a Mitsubishi? That was one of my main goals to figure out during my time with it.
Visually, it works. In ST-X trim, the Navara presents cleanly. No overdone plastics, no stuck-on flares, just a tidy factory ute that would take well to the usual treatment — a mild lift, RT tyres, and a bit of bar work. In silver, it leans more toward refined than aggressive, which suits the brief.
After collecting the Navara ST-X, I made my way home on the highway and quickly realised I had made a huge mistake. The driver distraction monitoring system is borderline overbearing. Simply scanning mirrors or checking traffic is enough to trigger warnings, paired with a sharp, intrusive beep. Ironically, the system itself becomes the most distracting element in the vehicle.
Once pulled over, I dug into the settings and found the workaround. Unlike most modern vehicles, key driver assistance settings aren’t housed in the infotainment screen. Instead, they live within the gauge cluster, navigated via the steering wheel controls. It’s not intuitive, but once you know where it is, it becomes part of the start-up routine. You do need to disable it every time you drive.
With that out of the way, the Navara settles into a far more agreeable experience.
On-road, it feels planted. Visibility is strong, and in typical Auckland fashion, the week delivered everything from dry motorway runs to heavy rain and cyclone conditions. The Navara handled it all without fuss. Being able to shift into 4H on the fly adds another layer of confidence, particularly in poor weather. Torque distribution across all four wheels settles the vehicle noticeably, especially on wet seal and uneven surfaces. With my partner and eight-month-old in the car, that added stability wasn’t just noticeable — it was appreciated.
Under the bonnet sits a 2.4-litre twin-turbo diesel four-cylinder, producing around 150kW and 470Nm. It’s paired to a six-speed automatic transmission, tuned for smooth, predictable shifts rather than anything particularly aggressive.
Unladen, performance is adequate. It’s not quick, but it doesn’t feel underdone either. Around town and up to open road speeds, it moves along easily enough, and the gearbox does a good job of keeping it in the usable part of the torque band. It’s more about steady delivery than punch.
Fuel economy was a highlight. Across a mix of motorway, town driving, and less-than-ideal weather, the Navara returned an average of 8.1L/100km. For a full-size ute running a traditional diesel drivetrain, that’s a strong result and something that would matter to anyone using it as a daily or work vehicle.
From a 4WD standpoint, the Navara runs a part-time system with 2H, 4H, and 4L selectable via a rotary dial. There’s also an electronically controlled rear diff lock, which is essential once you leave the road. Ground clearance sits around the 220mm mark in factory form, with approach and departure angles that are respectable. It’s a usable platform straight out of the box, but like most utes, it would benefit from a slight lift and tyre upgrade before tackling anything more technical.
Suspension is where the biggest philosophical shift sits. Moving to a leaf-sprung rear end brings it back in line with most of the ute market. It’s a practical decision, particularly for towing and payload, but it does come at the cost of ride quality and articulation compared to the old coil-sprung NP300.
On-road, you feel it. The front end is composed and surprisingly sharp on turn-in for a ute, but the rear can get unsettled over sharper bumps, especially when unladen. It’s that typical light tray behaviour — a bit of hop and skip over rough sections. Load it up, and it would likely settle considerably, which is exactly what this setup is designed for.
Inside, the cabin feels very Nissan. It’s familiar, well laid out, and easy to live with. There’s nothing overly flashy, but everything is where you expect it to be, and it feels solid. Materials are good, ergonomics are sorted, and it leans more toward usability than trying to impress on first glance.
One small but frustrating oversight sits in the infotainment. The Navara ST-X doesn’t offer wireless Android Auto, which feels behind the curve in 2026. Stranger still, the vehicle didn’t come with a USB cable in the cabin, meaning we couldn’t actually test wired connectivity during our time with it.
It’s a minor thing on paper, but in day-to-day use, it matters. When most buyers expect seamless phone integration straight out of the box, needing to source your own cable just to access core functionality feels like a miss.
And that’s where the wider picture starts to form. The Navara does a lot right. It’s comfortable, stable, efficient, and easy to live with. But it also highlights where the traditional ICE ute platform is starting to show its age. The drivetrain is proven and reliable, but it’s not particularly exciting, and the lack of newer tech integration stands out more than it would have a few years ago.
That said, I actually enjoyed my time with it. Once you work around the quirks, it’s a genuinely pleasant ute to drive and live with. It doesn’t try to be something it’s not, and in doing so, it delivers exactly what most buyers in this segment are after.
It might not carry the same cult following as the old coil-sprung Navara, but in its place is something more conventional, more predictable, and ultimately more usable for the majority.
0 comments