Woe, Mister Dan! All this talk, this chatter from ye, proclaimed professeur of shitboxery. Thou drive many a machine but what of thy own? Doth thou drive? Doth thou even hoon?

Yes I do, dear reader, and this is what I do it with.

After nearly 1.5 years of ownership, it is time to review the dullest tool in my arsenal.

My beloved, loathsome daily driver, that sickly and ailing thing what continually dumps all manner of fluids onto whatever parking space it inhabits. This car has been mentioned in nearly every one of my reviews to date, without any introduction or explanation. This, of course, is my Subaru Forester, a manual SG6 2.5XS in Java Black Pearl. The first car I have ever bought, The Turtle, as it’s known to most, for being box in shape and slow in speed.

This review requires a preface to be read correctly, due to my own personal biases. You will notice above, and in any other article, that I am seemingly incapable of complimenting my car. This, you see, is a projection of my inability to trust any man or machine regardless of the merits it has provided me, under the impression that I will face reprimand and consequence at the mere thought of letting my guard down.

But fuel is cheaper than therapy, I suppose.

. . .

With that out of the way, let’s be genuine for a minute. The Turtle is very likely one of the cleanest and lowest-mileage examples of an SG6 east of the rust belt. As it stands, this car has 104k miles on the clock (about 10k added by myself), and one previous owner who left all the dealership paperwork untouched in the glove box. The paint is in dire need of a polish but maintains its crystalline gold-under-black finish, and the interior is as flat, firm and grey as the day it rolled off the line in Gunma. This is, of course, a genuine Japanese-built example. It was ordered with two options over a base XS, mud flaps and a hood deflector, the latter of which I am tracking down to reinstall.

This car is mostly stock. Amid constant calls to turbocharge, lower, or otherwise alter it, I have opted to do very little other than repairs and maintenance. Changes include a long-throw shifter made from VW Beetle parts, a Flowmaster XS open muffler, and various quality-of-life items like WeatherTech mats and a Bluetooth cassette adapter.

This car sounds good, and that’s something to take comfort in among…other factors. All the tone of the EJ burble remains despite equal-length headers, with a very manageable volume when cruising. The seats are hard and the surfaces are cold, but firm to the touch and well-fit despite their age. It was optioned with heated front seats, but only the passenger side appears to function, conveniently. In the trunk, along with an original dealer-equipped tool kit, you will find a storage hole cleverly shaped to hold one quart of extra oil. They knew what was up and part of me appreciates that.

Sitting in the Forester feels similar to a couch one would find in a municipal office waiting room. There is technically a cushion under you, but you can feel the back problems emerging as soon as you sit down. The rear seats are worse in this regard, but that is of no concern to me.

Things keep breaking on this car. I knew things would keep breaking on this car from the moment I purchased it, hopeful that its “clean” condition would cause me slightly less pain than other Subarus of its age. Somehow, this has been the case. But that has not reduced the anxiety of a daily that has needed frequent, odd repairs, and will surely continue to. Some problems are more severe than others, but all become stressful in their unexpected nature.

My cabin air filter is a notable addition. When I went to replace it months ago, I discovered that there wasn’t one at all. We will never know why, but at least it is dealt with.

Check your cabin air filters, people.

As mentioned, I had been biding my time for when to begin this review. But seeing as the car was in “usable condition” for the first time in so long, it finally felt appropriate. When this car does work, it can be fun. Slow, loud, shaky fun wrapped up in a rusty fishbowl with less seat bolstering than a folding chair. This car has spent innumerable days ripping around the winding backroads of the northeast, through puddled and potholed conditions easily soaked up by the thick tires and blown-out shock absorbers. It spends other days as a winter drift missile, and has taken some seriously hard laps around Watkins Glen. You don’t need to worry about oil starvation anyway.

I wish I could speak to how this car behaves on the limit, but that has only been tested, often, in the snow. Believe the hype when it comes to this 50/50 AWD system, this car will claw its way forward in any direction you point, with no traction control system to stop it. Understeer becomes apparent in hairpin corners, but it will easily kick the back tires loose on a softer surface. Your average BRZ owner could not COMPREHEND how long this shifter throw is, but if you allow for 5-7 business days between gears, it’s still a joy to operate. The throttle? Crunchy. The clutch? Soft. The brakes? Softer. Cruising speed is capped at 68 MPH if you value your comfort, due to that low gearing and wind buffeting in from EVERY SEAM IN THE CAR.

This car taught me what an anxious-avoidant attachment style is, and how it manifests in myself. I deeply hate the things it does yet it is too valuable to part with. Being the only car I have owned, it automatically becomes the mark to beat. And I would buy one again