My experience of engineers is that they are rarely the life of a dinner party. I recall an instance in which I was forced to play “the measuring game”.
This involves guessing the distance between two randomly assigned points in the room, such as “door-handle to edge of counter”. The engineers then measure the actual distance with a tape measure and a winner is decided.
Brandishing the keys of an Impreza STI would have been one sure way to save me from this “entertainment”.
Engineers live for this heavy metal, Japanese rally machine. It now comes with Subaru’s intelligent drive control or “SI-Drive” that controls engine mapping and transmission response to give three different levels of ferocity.
A multi-mode traction control system and a DCCD or driver-controlled centre differential intelligently varies torque split between the front and rear wheels, either to enhance front grip or lessen rear grip (there are 10 settings in total for that).
All this is on top of the STI’s rally-bred staples of symmetrical all-wheel drive and turbo, boxer power. It all sounds fantastic but there is quite a lot wrong with the STI.
We took the STI to the track to see if all the acronym mumbo- jumbo is really worth half a million rand.
The first problem with the STI is not the technology, but the chassis riding on top of it. It takes a few corners to realise that this STI is lethargic when forced to hustle through a corner. It’s unwilling to turn in hard or change direction with any conviction.
Understeer is a factor as well, which the DCCD, I’m assuming, is meant to overcome. With the differential set to Auto (+) more torque is sent to the front wheels to give a more controlled, pointier drive. Auto (-) favours torque to the rear wheels, thereby making the STI more tail-happy. I found this setting to have no bearing on the car at all. Auto (+) did work in that it at least made the under-steer more predictable. You could turn into a corner too hard or not hard at all and the car would brush wide.
No amount of extra turn (as much as full lock) you put on the wheel, or tried to take off, the car would just keep on its course. It’s like the “driving for dummies” setting.
The last differential setting you can choose is a manual one, with eight settings including the “diff lock” setting. This should in theory have made the STI most tail-happy, but it hardly helped to pull it from the roly-poly feeling in the corners.
The power in the STI is immense, with 0-100kph claimed in 4,5s. Our testing put it more at 5,0s, which is still impressive. On both straights at Killarney the STI hit 200kph and could get on to 250kph with enough space.
The only thing more immense than the power is the fuel consumption. With the STI at full boil on the track, we averaged 45,5 litres per 100km and after 80km the tank was dry.
Despite of the STI’s rally-derived engineering, there are more enjoyable cars to throw around a racetrack. Even the in-gear power, launch acceleration and engine note seem overly sanitised in a way.
It’s a hatchback now and looks fairly innocuous at that. But you get a sense of the inbred performance this thing has when you cast your eye over the flared wheel arches, quad exhaust pipes and cerise STI lettering inside and out.
The new Impreza STI just comes across as a bit of a compromise really. It’s as fast as anything on the public roads, but it is not going to burn up the track.
It’s comfortable and versatile, but not more so than any other road car with performance credentials on sale today.
The Impreza STI, I fear, is the result of a few too many engineers trying to reduce the elements of driving to a list of boxes that need to be measured and ticked off one by one.