Ford Bronco Badlands

Ford Bronco Badlands | Test Drive

6 July 2026 Redazione News, Stories, Tested

Words Matteo Lavazza / Photos Bruno Serra

The idea of buying one of those gigantic mining trucks you see roaming around those absurd Australian open-pit mines is becoming something of an obsession. If there’s one thing I hate almost as much as groups of cyclists riding three abreast, it’s the morning traffic. I leave the house and, for a brief moment, Corso Torino looks astonishingly empty. I hurry along, and those two hundred metres to the garage become my daily dose of unexpected exercise. Just enough time to pull the shutter down, and I’m already stuck in traffic. Around here, time is measured in half-hour increments. The problem is that I only have to drive about twenty metres before turning toward the motorway, where things certainly don’t get any better. Endless roadworks with no workers in sight, absurd diversions, and tarmac that, the moment it rains, turns into the perfect surface for an impromptu game of automotive curling.

Every damn morning I wish I were sitting several metres above the road, simply gliding over the traffic without even noticing it. And with the new Ford Bronco, that doesn’t sound like such a bad idea. The iconic, no-compromise off-roader is finally available through Ford’s official dealer network. Produced between 1965 and 1996, the Bronco established yet another wild horse as a symbol of freedom on four American wheels—crafted by Ford, to be precise. Curiously, the only reminder of the Blue Oval is tucked away discreetly at the base of the tailgate, almost as if to underline how strongly this vehicle has always possessed an identity of its own. Throughout its history, it has represented the perfect balance between practicality and adventure. Here in Italy, the range is limited to a single four-door configuration, complete with the signature split tailgate—the lower section carries the spare wheel, while the upper glass section lifts independently. Under the bonnet, there’s only one engine choice: a twin-turbocharged 2.7-litre V6 producing 335 horsepower. Frankly, that’s more than enough. The alternative could have been the 2.3-litre EcoBoost four-cylinder with “only” 300 horsepower. The story is different for the more extreme Bronco Raptor, which packs a 3.0-litre V6 delivering well over 400 horsepower. Instead, we’re sitting squarely in that sweet middle ground—and it doesn’t feel like a compromise in the slightest. Especially if you tick the box for the Badlands trim, like the one I had the pleasure of living with for several of the most entertaining weeks I’ve spent here at Auto Class.

At times, I wish I were the owner of the petrol station next to our editorial office. Lately he seems happier than usual, and the fact that I’ve been stopping there every other day might have something to do with it. But honestly, who cares? The Bronco is a bit like jam—it’s so good that you happily accept getting your hands dirty. And I mean that quite literally, because our test car sits on All-Terrain tyres that are exactly what you need when you feel like diving headfirst into the mud like a Golden Retriever fresh back from the groomer. But if you think that’s all there is to it—making noise while spraying dirt several metres into the air—you’d be mistaken. At the very least because the Bronco isn’t the only machine capable of doing that sort of “work.”

The first name that comes to mind is, of course, the Jeep Wrangler. Then there’s the Ineos Grenadier, which deserves to be in the conversation as well. The Suzuki Jimny simply can’t match the Bronco for interior space or onboard comfort, while the Land Rover Defender offers such refined driving manners and build quality that it feels closer to a luxury SUV than to a rugged, old-school off-roader—despite remaining immensely capable away from the tarmac. Then there’s the Ford Ranger, but its greater length inevitably limits its agility, and not everyone needs a pickup bed capable of swallowing bulky cargo. Enough comparisons. I haul myself into the driver’s seat and, the moment the hefty door closes behind me, a new sense of command over everything around me immediately begins to take shape.

Roughly 26.7 centimetres of ground clearance means that even the bulkiest SUVs suddenly look like scaled-down city cars. At each end of the bonnet sit two sturdy grab handles that serve a dual purpose: they provide additional recovery points alongside those integrated into the chassis beneath the front bumper, while also helping the driver judge the vehicle’s considerable width. That’s no coincidence. Making such a large off-roader manageable in city traffic while simultaneously ensuring it’s ready for the harshest trails imaginable are two very different, yet equally essential, objectives for a vehicle making its European debut. A quick glance around the cabin and it feels less like sitting in a car and more like settling into a compact apartment—one that can instantly transform into an open-plan loft whenever you fancy it. The three roof panels can be removed surprisingly quickly and neatly stored in a dedicated case inside the luggage compartment. But it doesn’t stop there. If your goal is to let mud invade every possible corner of your existence, you can also remove all four doors, leaving only the exposed roll cage and structural pillars standing between you and the elements.

The twin-turbocharged V6 settles into a deep, gravelly idle and, despite the forced induction, still delivers that wonderfully rough-edged character. Below a certain engine speed it has the lazy, muscular rotation that reminds me of an old-school American muscle car—allow me that comparison. The ten-speed automatic transmission deserves equal praise. Although it is technically possible to shift manually using a tiny button mounted on the side of the gear selector, I never once felt the need to intervene. Left to its own devices, it performs its job flawlessly. I bury the accelerator. As I wave goodbye to the first few litres of petrol, I’m pleasantly reminded that 335 horsepower have little trouble moving more than 2.3 tonnes of Bronco. Its size is impossible to ignore, amplified by the square-cut bodywork and that unmistakable front grille proudly spelling out BRONCO in enormous letters.

One thing is certain: today, nobody is going to try cutting you off in traffic. As I was saying, put your foot down and the Bronco gets moving—and I do mean moving. Not just briskly, but genuinely fast. We’re talking about 0–100 km/h in just 7.2 seconds. That’s hot hatch territory, achieved by a vehicle weighing more than 2,300 kilograms—roughly three times as much as a Peugeot 106 Rallye. Fortunately, it doesn’t take long to remember that you’re driving something whose suspension was never designed to carve through corners with surgical precision. Instead, it was engineered to cut across them by leaping over mounds of dirt, rocks, sand and—since I’m driving it in the middle of winter—snow. Lots of snow.

Keeping the throttle pinned becomes the defining theme of my time with the Bronco. It doesn’t matter what the road surface looks like, or what obstacle suddenly appears in front of me along an otherwise deserted route. The only real difference is that, instead of Saharan sand, today’s playground is covered in a thick white blanket.

During the rare moments when we stop, the only sound making its way into the cabin is the wind. It’s so fierce that it feels capable of rocking the Bronco on its suspension. Then I gently set the BFGoodrich tyres in motion once again, crack the driver’s window open ever so slightly, and listen to the satisfying crunch of fresh snow disappearing beneath those enormous, aggressively treaded tyres. Under normal driving conditions, power is sent exclusively to the rear wheels, which means you can slide the Bronco around with ridiculous ease. But that’s only the beginning. An almost endless list of off-road hardware is available at the driver’s fingertips: selectable four-wheel drive, locking rear and centre differentials, low-range gearing and—exclusive to the Badlands version—a locking front differential together with a front anti-roll bar disconnect system. The latter allows for dramatically increased wheel articulation, making the most of the model-specific Bilstein dampers when the terrain becomes truly challenging. It’s serious engineering, yet surprisingly approachable even for newcomers to off-roading, while remaining immensely satisfying for seasoned enthusiasts.

Then there’s the G.O.A.T. controller—short for Goes Over Any Type of Terrain. Leave it in Automatic mode and the Bronco continuously analyses the surface beneath the tyres, adjusting traction and torque distribution accordingly. Prefer to take control yourself? Then simply choose between Normal, Sport, Slippery, Sand, Mud/Ruts, Rock Crawl and Baja. In case you’re wondering, none of these modes changes the ride height. Everything is almost too easy. Modern off-roaders have spoiled us, and in a brief moment of glorious, snow-covered masochism I decide to find out just how far I can push the Bronco—even beyond the point where the road itself completely disappears. A roadside sign points towards a mountain refuge. The blizzard suggests turning back. The Bronco, however, couldn’t care less.

With a monstrous 563 Nm of torque at work, all four knobby tyres launch fountains of snow metres into the air. The V6 climbs through the rev range with increasing urgency and volume, while my steering inputs end up being far smaller than I had expected. Before I know it, I’ve reached places I genuinely never imagined this vehicle could take me. It feels almost laughably easy. Wow.