Driving Sports

Driving Sports editor, Ryan Douthit, tests the Subaru Impreza, WRX and STI as he crosses from Los Angeles to Las Vegas to Colorado. Upon arriving at Pikes Peak, he has the chance to drive the STI as fast as his wits allowed -- to the very top. This video originally accompanied an article that appeared in Subiesport Magazine. Due to mic issues, there are no motor sounds in this video, just beautiful scenery going by.

Music "Dead and Gone" by Rhombus | Cameras provided by ChaseCam

Original Article, Appeared in the October 2005 issue of Subiesport Magazine

It all started with a simple phone call late Wednesday afternoon. “Hi Ryan, what are you doing next week?” The voice on the other side was that of Dominick Infante, Subaru’s product manager.

“Just a few things, why?” I replied.

“We’re throwing a press event for the new Impreza and we’d like you to come along. You’d have to fly to LA on Monday, Can you make it?”

I then explained that the next week was a pretty busy one: Subiesport Magazine was scheduled to go to press, I had a couple shows to prepare for and, most importantly, it was going to be the 9^th wedding anniversary on Wednesday. These are not the type of events one can usually reschedule.

“What day is the event going to be on?” I figured that maybe if it was a one or two day event I may be able to move some things around.

After a brief pause, Dominick answered, “All next week, but I can’t tell you any more than that. Oh, and I need your answer in 24 hours.”

At that point, you could have heard a pin drop in the silence.

So yes, as you have already seen from the cover of this issue, I put the rest of my life on hold and flew down to Los Angeles, without any idea of what to expect. By the time I boarded the plane, I still didn’t even know where I was staying, for all I knew I was going to spend the night at the LAX terminal. Every attempt to get a better fix on the events that were about to unfold were met with either a “I can’t tell you that,” or, “Let me check—oh, sorry, I guess I’m not allowed to say.”

The first night was spent just a few blocks away from the airport at a hotel. I even managed to get in contact with another journalist, Jeff Glenn from Sports Car International (Ross Publications), who was staying a few floors down from me. According to the instructions that arrived in a base trim Impreza 2.5 i, which was delivered the night before, he would be my co-driver for the duration. The only additional information was that we needed to arrive in Las Vegas, Nev., by noon for lunch. Where in Las Vegas? Apparently that information would be forthcoming and we had better keep the provided Nextel phone powered up less we never receive further details. This, it seems, would be the way would live for the next three days.

Traveling from LA to Las Vegas in the 2.5 i was uneventful. It was mostly highway driving through the desert. In this environment the improvements made to the engine were noticeable, however. Whereas as its predecessor would normally run out of steam in fourth gear, the new 173 horsepower engine was able to make easy work of passing at freeway speeds. A nice improvement, indeed.

En route, we received a phone call from someone we would get to know only as “Mom” (later found out that was an acronym for “Mother of the media.”)

“At your next opportunity, check under your spare tire. See you at lunch!” The peppiness apparent in her voice made it clear she was enjoying the whole cloak-and-dagger aspect of this operation.

By noon we had rolled into the Peppermill Restaurant on the Vegas Strip. There, we met with all the other journalists we assumed were on this trip. There were also several Subaru executives from both Cherry Hill, New Jersey, and Subaru of Japan present. Here we ate food that was destined to come back and haunt later that day, and were given shirts with the text “unpampered journalist” emblazoned on the chest. Ah, another clue! If the shirts were any indication, there wouldn’t be any five star resorts on this outing. Remind me, why did I come on this trip again? Oh, right, to drive the new Imprezas.

With the first leg completed, we bid farewell to our 5-speed 2.5 i sedan and hastily loaded up an auto-tranny-equipped 2.5 i wagon. This was turning out to be record hot weather, and the outdoor temperature gauge (now standard on all Impreza models) was reading off 118-degree weather. We started the car and blasted the air conditioner. On the dash was an envelope marked “Confidential,” inside was the instruction, “Dinner in Page, Arizona.” Of course, that was over six hours away via the interstate. Without getting into too many details, we made it in five, avoiding the interstate as much as possible. We even got some nice photos at the Valley of Fire State Park on the boarder of Nevada.

Approaching Page, Ariz., we ran into the first hitch. The Nextel phones didn’t have service. Our only lifeline to "Mom" and it was inoperable. After making a few circles around Page, someone finally got through to my personal cell phone and we found ourselves a few hours later enjoying barbequed chicken on a pair of rented houseboat in the middle of Lake Powell. After dinner and socializing, sleep came easy, and the 600 miles of driving that day started to fade into the back of my head.

“Bluuuuuuurp! Bluuurp!”

The dawn came all too early as someone greeted us with several blasts of an air horn. Checking the clock, wiping the sleep from my eyes, it read six in the early morning. Oh well, I’ll just lie here for a few more minutes.

“Attention!” Commanded Dominick’s voice from the fore of the vessel, “We’re transferring to the other boat and heading back to shore in fifteen mintues!”

Picture six journalists scrambling to pack, get dressed and take showers in this span of time. In the end, only two of us got showers, and I’m certain at least one of us left something behind.

When ashore we were greeted by several WRX’s sporting the distinct 2006 nose. We were able to pick our ride for the day. Jeff and I chose the World Rally Blue sedan with a five speed. Our instructions were to fend for our own lunches, and to meet for dinner in Walsenburg, Colorado—approximately 500 miles away.

We bolted towards the rising sun, and found many great byways along our self-designed route. All the time we did our best to find the smallest roads possible that would keep us going in the correct general direction. If made of gravel, even better.

Ever find yourself on an open road in the middle of nowhere, with no sign of life and behind the wheel of a car that can sprint to a top speed of 150MPH? Yeah, we couldn’t help ourselves, either. Even at ridiculous speeds, the new WRX cuts swiftly through the wind and maintains a level of comfort that surpasses the previous model. Granted, the new 17-inch wheels do cause a bit more road noise than the 16’s that came before, but this change is well worth it. And, thanks to the new sound dampening improvements, road noise never becomes overly intrusive inside the cockpit.

Rolling into Walsenburg, we found out that there were another set of Journalists converging from the East. That night we met over dinner, next door the cheap hotel we were staying at (remember, this is the Unpampered Journalist event), and jawed for a bit on the new improvements to the WRX and 2.5 i. After a few drinks and as the time crept towards ten o’clock, Dominick made an announcement that was at the same time disturbing and grand.

“Get some sleep because tomorrow we’ve arranged to have Pikes Peak to ourselves. There, you’ll be driving the new WRX STI up the mountain.”

I was beginning to think that maybe this trip was worth delaying an anniversary for, after all. Then he dropped the bombshell:

“Oh, by the way, you’ll want to get some sleep as we’re heading out at 2:30am.”

We all waited for him to say “just kidding,” but no, he was serious. The mountain was a two hour drive from Walsenburg, and we needed to start running up the mountain by sunrise. The room cleared with surprising efficiency.

The next morning we had the change to make several runs to 14110 feet in the sky, in both the new WRX and the STI models. As you can read in the reviews that follow this story, both are brilliant vehicles with distinctly different personalities. We did our best to ring every ounce of fun out of them while we had this opportunity. Luckily no one fell off the mountain, and no one (to my knowledge) passed out from altitude sickness.

Our final resting place, before returning the lives we had once led, was the prestigious Broadmoor resort (saving the best for last), this is a slice of heaven nestled into the foothills of Colorado Springs. There we were able to relax and have the miles messaged out our bodies.

Then it occurred to me, late on that last day, how was I getting home? I called “Mom” and asked. On the other end of the line was an obviously bemused, “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that. You’ll receive a call in the morning with further instructions. ”