2011 Subaru Impreza Sedan Wrx Sti Limited on 2040-cars

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Junkyard Gem: 1992 Subaru Loyale Wagon, with Budget Cargo Carrier

Before there was the Impreza, there was the Leone. Sold in the United States at first as, simply, The Subaru, the Loyale name appeared on the last few years of the third-generation Leones. Here's a final-model-year example of the Loyale wagon in a Denver wrecking yard, complete with rust, outdoorsy-activity-themed stickers, and interesting homebuilt plywood upgrades. These cars weren't quite as sturdy as their successors, but this one reached the magical 200,000-mile mark during its quarter-century on the roads and trails of Colorado. For some reason, there's a mid-1990s Mazda Miata M Edition badge on the tailgate. Some Colorado Subaru dealerships sell "Rocky Mountain Edition" option packages, so perhaps this was the Loyale owner's way of joining the exclusive club for owners of Subarus with snow-grooved floormats and ski-friendly roof racks. In keeping with that theme of homebrewed upgrades, this car has a plywood version of the roof-mounted cargo carriers so popular with local Outback owners. Sure, it's a bit heavy and the lack of paint reduced its lifespan, but it got the job done. The skinny twine holding the box to its plumbing-pipe mounts looks a bit scary; I'd hoped to see some hefty lag-bolts going through the roof's metal into the box's underside, but did not find any such hardware. Tailgating this rig would not have been advised. Inside, a sturdy wooden floor covers the rear-seat and cargo area. Just the thing for lots of bicycle parts or camping gear! It's those little details that make an installation like this work best. A tire receipt from last year shows that this car lived in even-more-Subariffic-than-Denver Boulder, and that it was still running and being maintained in the recent past. Unlike nearly all retired Subarus of this era that I see in Denver junkyards, this one has not a single cannabis-dispensary sticker on the dash (in stark contrast to, for example, this THC-saturated '84 GL wagon). None of that lung-capacity-destroying weed for this Subaru, no sir— just healthy outdoor adventures! You could still buy front-wheel-drive Subarus in 1992, but this one is an all-wheel-drive car with 5-speed manual transmission and 90-horse boxer-four engine. This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. Before Subaru pitched their wagons as outdoor-activity-enabling adventuremobiles, they were sold as practical family haulers.

Prototype Subaru Impreza 22B emerges from obscurity

Ask a gearhead what they think is the greatest Subaru built and the answer is probably something related to rally Imprezas – unless you're talking to a more quirky sort who'd throw out the SVX, XT or the bed-mounted jump seats of a Brat. But in any case, the 1990s rally Subarus are great, their road-going versions are brilliant and the rarest of all is the bulging 22B, which commands strong money due to its very limited availability. The Impreza 22B, reportedly named so for its 2.2-liter turbo boxer, but which also refers to the hexadecimal value of 555, Subaru's rally sponsor, was a widebody special with a bigger engine and more STI magic than other WRX variants. Officially it had 280 horsepower, but almost every Japanese performance car was advertised with that amount at the time – true figures take a dyno run or a dedicated mind to uncover. In addition to the modified body, the suspension was 22B-specific, as was the aero. The 2,800-pound 22B took just 5 seconds to hit 60 mph, a strong feat for 1998, and on the right road with the right kind of driver it is likely to be unparalleled for its era. As rare as any 22B is, there are also Subaru-built prototype cars that weren't part of the initial 400-car Japanese production run or the official 16-unit UK-bound batch, or the five Australian market cars. Some sources say there were 424 22Bs made, some mention a different number, and the prototypes are understandably the most coveted, least obtainable ones. Which brings us to this car currently for sale, which just so happens to be one of three known "000/400" series prototypes with just 55 kilometers (34 miles) on the digital odometer. Is this an actual wheeled unicorn? Contempo Concept, the Hong Kong-based dealer that also stocked the Miata Roadster Coupe we featured, has provided precious little information about this particular car, other than some very good sales photos that show the 22B in mint condition, complete with the 000/400 prototype plaque. There's no mention of the price – this Subaru is likely to have entered the "If you must ask, you cannot afford it" class of cars. It's not immediately obvious whether its prototype status would make it difficult, if impossible to register on the road, and/or if the low odometer reading is due to the car being more of a display item in the legal sense. 22B values have risen sharply during the past decades, and the prototypes will be the most expensive.

The art of WRX-ing in the rain

There it is again, the quiver of the STi's blue rear spoiler. I noticed it yesterday on the Autobahn north of Frankfurt. Although the speed limit was 120 kilometers per hour, I was cruising in sixth gear around 200 kph when the STi's signature rear appendage began to dance in my rear view mirror. Now I'm redlining fifth gear on the front straight of the legendary Nurburgring's north loop and it's back. Only this time the quivering blade is in a deluge of water coming off the Subaru's 18-inch Dunlops. It's a rooster tail worthy of Miss Budweiser and it's a constant and sobering reminder that I'm lapping the 13-mile long Nordschleife in a freezing and unrelenting rain. I'm driving a 2017 German-spec Subaru WRX STi, not the updated 2018 version that'll get revised front end styling, tweaked suspension tuning, larger Brembo brakes and 19-inch wheels and tires. At 240 kph, close to the 2.5-liter boxer four's 6,700 rpm redline, I shift up to sixth gear and change lanes to avoid the standing water on the left side of the track. It's my third lap. I'm getting over-confident. The all-wheel drive WRX STI is dealing well with the tricky conditions and the Ringmeisters of the past that tamed this track since it was first built in 1929 - Ascari, Fangio, Clark, Caracciola, Nuvolari, Rosemeyer, Chiron, and Ickx - are talking to me inside my head. And they're egging me on. Pushing me to go faster. I'm sticking to wet line and staying off the tall curbing that marks most apexes. Bounce the Subi off a curb and I'm sure to star in the next Nurburgring crash video to hit YouTube. I'm also desperately trying to stay off of the new pavement, which dots the circuit and has a coefficient of friction in the wet similar to snot. Then I make a huge mistake on the entrance to Bergwerk, a tight right hand corner that comes up quickly after a long, fast section and the left hand kink that Nicki Lauda got so wrong in the 1976 Grand Prix. The Nordschleife has 160 corners. Most are blind. Many are off camber. All are lined with walls and Armco barriers. Even the straights are kinked and crowned. And there are two very fast downhill compressions and three jumps that max out a car's suspension travel. There's no runoff room. No margin for error. And remembering the course in this weather in just a few laps is impossible, I don't care how much Gran Turismo you've played.