What’s automotive kryptonite for enthusiasts? A brown manual diesel wagon, of course. In the U.S., this has been hard to find, but it’s getting harder still to find any combination of those words as every month in 2025 passes. As of August, 2025, the Volvo V60 is gone from U.S. showrooms, and the wagon’s time in the U.S. is officially over. Volvo’s announcement that it would pull all non-SUV models from its 2026 U.S. lineup made this official. These four now make up the entirety of the U.S. market for genuine wagons: the 2026 Mercedes-Benz E53 Hybrid Wagon at $93,350, the 2026 BMW M5 Wagon with a MSRP of $123,900, the 2026 Audi RS6 Avant Performance, $130,700, and the Porsche Taycan GTS Sport Turismo, from a staggering $156,100. These extremely rare, wildly expensive options are all that’s left of car-based wagons without the pretense of off-road cosplay.
Perhaps this is an untimely eulogy, as it could reasonably be said that the wagon’s moment has been gone for some time, but to watch Volvo give up is too much to let pass without words. In places like Maine, Berkeley, and Seattle, where Volvo 240 wagons once outnumbered residents, the Subaru Outback is as close as you will get. The truly staggering statistic about the standard V60’s departure is its price: at $71,250, the 2025 V60 Polestar Engineered (the sport model, vice the Cross Country crossover-esque variant) is more than $20,000 less expensive than the next lowest priced wagon that doesn’t allege off road capability: the Mercedes-Benz E53.
Other vehicles began life as wagons before being lifted, armored in plastic cladding, and rebranded as crossovers, but even those class traitors are scarce. The great irony is that even Subaru, sensible shoe wearer who invented the “tall wagon” segment, has abandoned it: the Outback was officially marketed as a crossover for years, and Subaru now calls it a midsize SUV.
Once, the station wagon was America’s family default. From the postwar boom through the 1980s, they were everywhere, first being literally built of wood, later often wearing faux-wood paneling as a badge of suburban prestige. Ford Country Squires and Oldsmobile Vista Cruisers were cultural fixtures, hauling kids, groceries, and the American Dream under one flat roof.
The first blow was not a gentle nudge toward progress, but a calculated coup. Chrysler’s Lee Iacocca (some would reverse the order) introduced the Plymouth Voyager and Dodge Caravan in 1984, taking the humble K-car platform and turning it into a weapon. These were bright and airy, with vast windows and thin pillars, smaller overall than a full-size wagon yet offering more passenger and cargo room. The tall roof and upright seating gave drivers a commanding view, while the low, flat floor made loading effortless. Sliding doors eliminated the awkward door-swing dance. Removable seats made them two vehicles in one.
These vans didn’t just compete with wagons, they seized on the same core virtues and made them more convenient, more fashionable, and cheaper to build. By the late 1980s, the familiar long-roof silhouette looked tired and low-slung next to the upright Aerostars, Astros, Caravans, and Voyagers that had rebranded family duty as something new. Minivans didn’t politely coexist with wagons; they stole the wagon’s life and wore its clothes.
The SUV boom of the 1990s and early 2000s was the second and perhaps more brutal betrayal. Ford Explorers, Jeep Grand Cherokees, and Lincoln Navigators started with the minivan’s practicality, added truck swagger, and sold it as freedom on four wheels. They offered wagon-like cargo space with a higher stance, a heavy dose of marketing machismo, and the illusion of go-anywhere capability. The public didn’t just buy them; they abandoned wagons and even minivans in droves. Jeep’s Grand Wagoneer even featured wood paneling for those who couldn’t let that trend die in peace.
By 1996, the Chevrolet Caprice and Buick Roadmaster, the last full-size American wagons, were shown the door. Mid-size and compact wagons limped along until Ford quietly euthanized the Taurus wagon in 2005 and the Focus wagon in 2008. This wasn’t evolution. It was an orchestrated replacement, where image and posture mattered more than ride quality, efficiency, or common sense. At the time, countless journalists pointed out that SUVs lacked in all three. It didn’t matter.
By the 2010s, crossovers had finished the work that SUVs started. Sedans and wagons together collapsed from over 50 percent of the market in 2013 to just 26 percent by 2021. Americans now buy nearly fifty crossovers or SUVs for every wagon sold. Wagons have hovered around one percent of U.S. sales for years. And that one percent? Almost all Subaru Outbacks. In 2018, the Outback accounted for 85.7 percent of U.S. “wagon” sales; by 2023, it was over 93 percent. Of course, even Subaru has decided that the word “wagon” is toxic. The only way to sell one in America is to pretend it isn’t one.
Today’s true wagons in America are reserved for those willing to pay dearly for the privilege. The Audi RS6 Avant, with its 621-horsepower twin-turbo V8, is a supercar that can carry a washer and dryer. The BMW M5 Touring finally came to America for 2026 with 717 horsepower, 738 lb-ft, and a hybrid system capable of 25 miles of silent creeping with a hatch bungeed closed because you needed to move a coffee table. The Porsche Taycan GTS Sport Turismo is an electric long-roof that trades gasoline for voltage. No cargo jokes here; you can’t really fit much in the back of one of those. The Audi Allroad is essentially a German Subaru Outback. Mercedes, once almost as ubiquitous as Volvo in the wagon segment (depending on your zip code), now sells the E-Class wagon here only as the lifted and befenderflared E450 All-Terrain. Also not cheap: $76,100 base price.
Perhaps obviously given the origin of the remaining “true” wagons, Europe has not yet buried the wagon. In 2023, Europeans made 69 percent of global wagon purchases, with Germany alone buying over 416,000 of them. In the Czech Republic, nearly one in five new cars is an estate. In Paris, brown diesel manual Peugeot “Breaks” clatter past tourists putting their finger on top of the Tour Eiffel. Narrow streets, expensive fuel, and the absence of SUV-friendly regulatory loopholes have kept wagons relevant. Like the manual transmission, this enthusiast favorite is on life support worldwide mostly due to Europe and Asia’s emphasis on frugal practicality and driver involvement. While the crossover tide is rising worldwide, these markets are the wagon’s last true sanctuary.
The difference is merely tempo. America cast off the wagon decades ago. Europe is letting it fade slowly. For now, you can still walk into a German dealer and choose from a dozen longroofs. In the U.S., you get three, and they’re all German supersedans with backpacks giving study abroad energy.
There’s still some hope. Volvo may have given up, but if you are among those lamenting the loss of the traditional wagon, Mercedes has brought its new E53 wagon to the U.S. at a starting MSRP of $93,350. Unfortunately for enthusiasts, while it might be available in brown, it will not be available as a manual or with a diesel.