From a 1995 Mustang GT Convertible to a
1999 Subaru Impreza 2.5 RS Coupe is quite a leap. The former is a
wallowing, unrefined, primitive, ugly, heavy machine. The latter, a
handsome, nimble, lightweight, taught, true example of what a sports
car should be. This leap is one I made 5 months ago today, but
surprisingly, it hasn't all been a love-story.
First, let me start off by saying that
there is no purpose in owning a sports car if one is not able to
drive it in a sporty manner, whether it is due to the driver's
incompetence, or the reliability of the car. Fortunately, I am a very
competent driver, but unfortunately, my Impreza 2.5 RS has been
extremely unreliable. This surprises me, because throughout my life,
all I have ever heard about Subaru's is that they are extremely
dependable, and can virtually out-last any other car on the road.
What a load of bullshit. Becoming an
owner of a Subaru has given me the opportunity to unlock the treasure
chest of secretly kept complaints and problems (via online forums)
amongst people who own their beloved “Subies”. Let me make a
short (but actually quite lengthy) list of all of the mishaps a
Subaru owner is bound to encounter: Bad head-gaskets, ruined wheel
bearings and hubs, bad head-gaskets, problems with the center
differential, bad head-gaskets, rattly interior, bad head gaskets,
and the list goes on an on... you get my point.
Much to my annoyance, I have come
across one-too-many people who say, “If you drive your Subaru
normally, with only regular oil maintenance, it'll last forever.”
What this accurately translates to is, “If you drive your Subaru
like an 85-year-old woman, whilst ignoring all of the problems it has
going on, the car will function and drive you from point A to B,
albeit very crappily, noisily, and slowly.
I'm sorry, but I see absolutely no
point in owning any car – let alone a sports car – which the
driver must compromise with and accept the fact that he has to drive
his car as if it were on its last legs for the majority of the time.
This is exactly what I have had to do
with my Impreza 2.5 RS, and it has been a very depressing ownership
experience. Every time I sit in the car, I feel that in spirit, it is
like a little dog, eager to go out and play tirelessly. But the
second I turn the key, I remember that I have to “baby” - or
rather “grandma” – the car from one place to another, keeping
one eye incessantly on the rev limiter to make sure the revs stay
under 3 grand, fearing that if they stray over, my engine will melt.
It's a terrible irony; it feels like a true sports car to drive, yet
I have to operate it as slowly and delicately as I would a bulldozer
in a china shop.
Speaking of irony, compromise is
something I never had to do with my Mustang. All of that “found on
the road dead” malarkey never once applied to my car, except the
one time when the clutch blew out on Christmas day, in the snow, on
the highway...but luckily within half a mile from my house. All I
ever did was get in it and drive it like it was meant to be driven.
I'm not saying that my '95 hideously ugly Ford Mustang was a better
car than the gorgeous '99 Subaru Impreza 2.5 RS Coupe, but in a way,
it sort of just was, because it actually worked properly.
The past 5 months have been a learning
experience. I have learned that I will never again purchase a used
Subaru, and I will warn everyone of the many pitfalls to
watch out for religiously, as if it were a paying job. I have
also learned that AWD cars are extremely boring, and my next - and
every other car from now on - will be RWD, just like the good ol'
days with my Mustang.
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