Review: Navigon The Navigon 2100 Max

If you're climbing Mount Everest, you don't haggle with the Sherpas. If they think they're getting ripped off, they might just ditch you at 19,000 feet. The Navigon 2100 Max resembles that short-changed Sherpa: it's super cheap, but the unit sometimes balks at showing you where you need to go. But then again, you shouldn't wholly depend on a GPS anyway, and for most tasks it does its job well, especially for three hundred bucks.

For its price, the 2100 Max is fairly swank. Its sleek and shiny lacquered-plastic bezel houses a roomy 4.3-inch widescreen and a speaker that can belt out clear directions in the windiest of cars. The screen's touch-sensitive coating makes it a little hazy, but it's plenty bright. The device snaps into a light yet sturdy windshield mount that's better than many pricier models. Even when flying over the bumpy, pitted roads of Louisiana we noticed neither shimmy nor jiggle.

If you plan out your trip far ahead of time you'll have a positive experience. The Navigon can switch from 2-D to a 3-D Reality mode that will even show you which lane you should be in. In emergencies, you can bring up the nearest tow truck, hospital or pharmacy. And if you're being carjacked, simply ask your assailant to hold off as you access the number for the local constable. You can even choose to be scolded for speeding, and you can unlock special modes to show live traffic info ($100) or Zagat restaurants ($40).

But once you leave the highway or want to navigate on the fly, prepare for frustration. It's hard to get the scroll buttons to register, and even when you do, they take their sweet time responding. Looking up addresses is time-consuming and unintuitive, and the Points of Interest directories are hard to navigate, especially if you don't know the name of the business you're searching for.

The most aggravating of all is when the unit starts talking back, arguing like a real estate lawyer. If a community is not a "registered municipality," the Navigon can still find it, but won't let you navigate to a street within that area. One address we checked simply couldn't be found because we couldn't provide the correct hamlet for it.

The little computer lady inside does her best at sounding out street names: She can pronounce New Orleans' Tchoupitoulas Street better than most tourists, but she flubs Fountainebleau. Yes, Madame Navigon's hard to satisfy and takes patience to deal with; if you don't have the time to convince or cajole her to do your bidding, then it's time to spring for a pricier model.