Subaru WRX STI (2016) long-term test review
Usually on those evenings, returning late from work, when I'd have a half-hour journey home, on my own, in the dark, in the wet, and I'd drive like my pants were on fire.
It's not a delicate car, the WRX – it's not a fingertip car, finely balanced on its tiptoes.
Forget potholes – just a slightly irregular surface will have you jiggling around so much your head bobbles on your shoulders.
Yes, there are advantages when it comes to body control on a late-night thrash, but the cost is too high in day-to-day use.
Flat out, the WRX makes you feel like a titan, but around town it can make you feel like a chump.
This stuff makes the WRX feel more dated than the throwback World Rally styling.
But the biggest blow to its appeal doesn't lie in that trade-off, but in what the competition has to offer.
Month 7 running a 2016 Subaru WRX STI: the highs and lows, before it goes.
The end is drawing near for our time with the Subaru, but one thing still stands out. If you're driving in the wet there are few cars that can touch the WRX for cross-country pace.
Month 6 running a 2016 Subaru WRX STI: a pilgrimage to Kielder.
I think it got its nickname, 'Killer' Kielder, because no-one could think of any other words that began with K. In truth, this most famous of all British rally stages was more like 'Krashy' Kielder; maybe 'Kwick' Kielder.
Very often 'Extremely Kold' Kielder. But 'Killer' was the name that stuck. .
And it was a giant killer, in its day: ever since it first appeared as a special stage on the RAC Rally in 1961, it was a daunting and unpredictable place, even for the best drivers in the world.
Back in the 1960s and early '70s, when the British event was in its golden age, the RAC would travel the whole of the UK.
Hard to imagine it now: over the course of four or five days the rally would run for 2500 miles, starting in London (or Bournemouth!); driving up through Wales, stopping off at Oulton Park for a few laps before heading to the Lake District and Scotland.
Then the cars would return (through Kielder) to East Anglia; a few laps of Snetterton, then back to London. Epic.
And if you were to ask any of those drivers which section they feared most, out of the 80-odd special stages, they would probably say 'Kielder'.
Made up of fast, undulating tracks of loose gravel with unforgiving ditches and trees, the drivers would find themselves in this godforsaken forest, with no pace notes, in November, often at night.
Located an hour north-east of Carlisle, hugging the Scottish borders, Kielder Forest was a remote, unwelcoming, almost Gothic place: dark, foggy, and lacquered with black ice. (Unfortunately, not one of these words start with a K.).
Did I say the '70s were the golden era? Maybe it was the 1980s, when Toivonen won the Group B Lancia Delta S4's debut event? Or how about 1995, when McRae and Sainz went into the RAC neck-and-neck in the title race, flat-out in their blue-and-gold Imprezas.
McRae was outrageously quick, but on Kielder's Pundershaw stage – at 36 miles, the longest in the whole FIA World Championship – he smacked a rock and bent his suspension while 'ditch hooking'.
He and co-driver Derek Ringer straightened out the strut using a log (I mean, how do you even do that?) and limped on to the service park in Penrith. From there they won the rally, and the 1995 Championship. .
Such are Kielder's legends and stories; but the last time the forest actually appeared in the RAC/Network Q/(whatever it was called) was in 1996.
The following year, the rally's epicentre moved to Cheltenham and then Cardiff – what was once a UK-wide event with hundreds of thousands of spectators became 'Wales Rally GB': three days in a lorry park outside Swansea, only 20 special stages, many of them the same road run twice.
This is vanilla rallying, bland and corporatised, and no-one even bothers with nicknames any more (except perhaps 'Krap'). . So fast forward 20 years, and I'm driving CAR's long-term-test Subaru WRX up to Kielder.
Like the Rally GB, this iconic Subaru has changed a lot over the last two decades, and I can't help feeling it – like the event – has somewhat lost its way.
A late 1990s Subaru was, and still is, a pert, well-proportioned, surprisingly unadorned car (except for those magnificent gold wheels). It was fast enough, brutish enough, yet also poised and balanced.
Having lived with the new WRX STI for a few months, I get tired of its hard ride, its jerky clutch and its ridiculous rear wing.
It seems to be screaming 'RALLY CAR', yet it doesn't quite go 'The Full McRae', as though Subaru's a bit embarrassed by all that now.
The Type UK comes with dark grey alloys as standard, but you can order gold wheels as a dealer option.
When I call Subaru and suggest we might fit them, the answer comes back, 'Are you being ironic?' To which I replied, 'Er, no, I actually like gold wheels'.
I know I've bemoaned the Subaru model range before, but look at the XV, the Outback, the Levorg; not a hint of WRC glory.
This is a brand determined to move on from those halcyon days, yet it doesn't know what it wants to be instead. .
Next morning we explore (with permission) some of the Forestry Commission gravel tracks that weave through the forest. It's surprising, after getting that bird's-eye view, how open it seems down at ground level, where we find stretches of meadow and wide vistas.
Since 1995, Kielder has been turning itself into an enormous sculpture park, and we come across strange architectural artworks in the trees.
I was expecting it to feel dense and gloomy here, like a grainy 1980s rally DVD showing dark forest and sleet; instead, it feels like the modern, managed parkland it is. . The forest is riddled with gravel tracks.
We're not here to drive like McRae, but you can feel the WRX respond when you ask more of it – short, sharp punches of turbo acceleration, jabbing at the throttle and brake, the STI comes alive when you drive more purposefully, more intensely.
It feels as if it still hankers after gold wheels too. .
This year marks the 30th anniversary of the end of Group B.
While I might want modern rallying to 'man up', no-one would want to return to 1986, but it's sad the death of Henri Toivonen and his co-driver Sergio Cresta in Corsica overshadows one of the best rallies in history, the 1986 Monte Carlo.
In the new, mid-engined 500bhp Delta S4, the young Toivonen looked favourite to win the title. He was leading the Monte when he hit a spectator's car and was bruised so badly he was on painkillers for the rest of the rally.
What followed was one of the greatest drives ever seen: coming from a minute down he drove like an inspired genius, the kind of drive we remember McRae for. He won, and it looked like his destiny was set. .
Month 5 running a 2016 Subaru WRX STI: it aint all bad, on the inside. When car folk talk to me about the Subaru many of them ask about the performance first and the interior second.
Subaru has a reputation for bad plastics and cheap detailing, but I don't find the WRX that offensive – it's not up to German standards, but it's no worse than your average Japanese standards either.
What lets it down is the Alpine sat-nav and sound system: yes it's a colour screen, but it's fiddly to use and it looks so aftermarket.
It suggests trips to Halfords, massive exhausts, and auxiliary boost gauges fitted to the top of the dashboard.
Month 4 running a 2016 Subaru WRX STI: unscheduled hare appointment.
Somewhere out there, there's a rabbit wearing part of my Subaru as a hat. Well, when I say rabbit, I mean a giant hare of the 'mad March' variety, about as big as a greyhound dog.
The hare in question ran out in front of me and collided with the STI's nose (a polite way of saying I ran over it).
I was on a dual carriageway so I couldn't stop immediately, but I knew there'd be damage – it sounded like I'd hit a rock. Yuck.
When I eventually pulled over, I was expecting to find gore, but apart from a bit of brown fluff there was no sign of the poor animal.
Mysteriously, there was also no sign of an entire black plastic shroud around the driver's side fog light.
It was as though the hare had time – during the collision – to get a screwdriver out and carefully prize it off. Anyway, I need to get it fixed – I'll report back next month. .
In the meantime, I thought I'd share my thoughts on the Subaru as a family car. One of the advantages of the original Impreza Turbo that's still true today is that it's based on a practical four-door saloon.
Some might sneer at its humble origins, but it does make the car easier to live with than, say, its BRZ coupe cousin.
Month 3 running a 2016 Subaru WRX STI: never mind the dampers, feel the diff.
I love driving the Subaru fast, but at lower speeds around town the ride is painfully stiff. If it had adaptable suspension, it's like it's permanently set in Race mode.
Unfortunately, it isn't adjustable, so we're stuck with hard dampers even on a pot-holed high street. Passengers jiggle up and down like unwilling parents on a bouncy castle. .
However, in true nerdy, technical Subaru style, the centre differential is adjustable. Perfect for… er, actually I'm not sure why they made the diff adjustable. Unless (like me), you want to get it sideways at every opportunity.
Drive the WRX hard and keep the diff in Auto mode, and the handling's pretty neutral, with a bit of understeer in the wet. It's not painfully intrusive though, and overall you can keep up a wicked pace.
I often take the longer route home from work, down an empty, twisting back road. I'm always astonished at how you can maintain momentum, cross-country, even in a downpour.
However, fiddle with the 'Driver's Control Centre Differential' (or DCCD) and you can manually fix the torque distribution between the front and rear axles.
Subaru explains that adjusting rearward 'sharpens cornering' and forward 'increases traction'; what they're really talking about is oversteer. In my case I only adjust one way, all the way to the back. .
Month 2 running a 2016 Subaru WRX STI: keeping it in the family.
If you felt last month's intro to our new WRX was unfair to Subaru ('a tide of anonymous hatchback and bizarre estates') don't worry, I'm allowed to be rude, I'm an actual Subaru owner.
This diesel Forester is our family workhorse, purchased with my own money (that's like a cat burglar buying his own ladder).
The common genes? They share the same firmly sprung solidity, 4x4 grip and innate balance; but deep down, I just love the brand – the 'Fuji Heavy Industries' badge and the quirky engineering.
Any criticism is just me being cruel to be kind. .
Month 1 running a 2016 Subaru WRX STI: the introduction to our long-term test.
The first time I drove our new Subaru, I filled up with petrol and as I walked into the shop a guy at the cash machine shouted 'Nice car mate!'.
When I came out three minutes later he was standing by the car, staring at it with his young son. 'I've had a few of these,' he said in hushed admiration. He went on to tell me his entire Subaru history.
Welcome to the WRX Club: membership is automatic upon purchase, and the entry fee is £28,995. Since that first night it's happened a lot, and I realise now I'm part of a cult.
While a Lamborghini or Ferrari attracts people who want to take selfies, and a classic car is an invitation to ask questions, the Subaru is a honeypot to a very specific type of enthusiast, of a specific age, who wants to have a specific conversation.
Knowledgable, passionate and clearly with plenty of disposable income, these are the guys (they're all men) who have kept the Subaru brand alive in the UK, despite a range that's become – let's be honest – a bit 'patchy' in recent years.
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