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Subaru stans rejoice: A mythical S-model has finally landed on American soil. Subaru Tecnica International's motorsport-inspired, limited-production creations were previously reserved for Japan, but now the Pleiades have aligned, and we get our own. Building off the WRX STI Type RA, Subaru's speed-obsessed engineers proceeded to widen, stiffen, lower, and boost, resulting in the S209. It is, quite simply, the most powerful and performant factory-built Subaru ever.
As a week of hammering the S209 revealed, it represents peak STI. The car delivers a visceral, engaging driving experience that's ever rarer in this increasingly digitized and electrified world. It demands and rewards your focus, goading you to dig deeper and work harder. If you want this analog thrill before it's lost to kilowatts and computers, act immediately: Only 209 S209s will ever be built.
There's a problem, however. Whereas the standard STI offers good performance value, the S209, well, doesn't. The one we tested cost—sitting down?—$64,880. That's approximately $27,000 more than a stock STI, a difference equivalent to a brand-new 2020 Outback.
Walton thinks the S209 could borrow something from the aforementioned Audi, calling it the "number one candidate for a dual-clutch transmission (with launch control) ever."
Price is the S209's curse, for as good it is, it's the factor upon which it will be endlessly compared. Would you rather have it, or a mildly optioned BMW M2 Competition, or Audi RS3, or Porsche 718 Cayman? Or a stock STI, and a stack of cash with which to modify the hell out of it? Or, perhaps, a two-car garage of the aforementioned Outback and STI? Here even the most steadfast Subie bro must do some soul searching, and decide whether this ultra-exclusive super-roo is worth it.
The S209 looks like someone already dropped some coin to add street style to an STI. Those looks work, too: Every vent, scoop, and strake is functional. Gold rims under bulging arches look like they were swiped from a rally team garage. The regular STI's infamous wing is replaced with a smaller adjustable unit, which, like the roof, is crafted from carbon fiber. Quad exhaust outlets are an STI trademark, here with a bespoke exhaust system behind them. Inside, the only clues that this isn't a standard STI are the faux suede steering wheel and numbered dedication plate behind the shifter.
Subaru wrung everything it could from its EJ-series 2.5-liter turbocharged flat-four, resulting in 341 hp and 330 lb-ft of torque. How that power is delivered is as old school as the engine itself (its lineage traces back to the 2003 STI). Low in the rev range you can keep the throttle floored and not worry about breaking speed limits. After about an hour of lag the car lunges forward, commanding decisive gear changes and thoughtful planning to keep the engine on boost. Riding that surge gives the S209 dimension, and fun.
One S209 trick is the intercooler water spray, activated by paddles behind the steering wheel. Tug one and a mist hits the heat exchanger, cooling the charged air and feeding a more oxygen-dense, fuel-rich mixture to the cylinders—basically, extra power on demand. It's not much and the effect is subtle, but it works. The higher the revs, the more you'll feel it.
Still, "this is not a drag racer—it hates launching," said road test editor Chris Walton. Conspiring against it are that peaky engine and a driveline-protecting clutch damper which forces slow shifts. Walton found launching "requires more than 4,000 rpm to be in the torque, and major clutch slippage." Despite his best efforts, "it bogs bigly," and the S209's quickest 0-60 mph time disappointed at 5.9 seconds—two tenths behind the standard STI. The much-less-expensive Honda Civic Type R did it in 5.0 seconds flat, while the similarly priced Audi RS3 did the sprint in just 3.6. Through the quarter mile it barely beats the regular STI, tying at 14.1 seconds, but ahead at 101.2 mph against 98.5 mph.
Walton thinks the S209 could borrow something from the aforementioned Audi, calling it the "number one candidate for a dual-clutch transmission (with launch control) ever."
For better or worse, like the standard STI, it's solely available with a six-speed manual transmission. Dastardly damper aside, it's a pretty sweet setup. Shifter throws are short, tight, and require some shoulder. The lever itself feels very stiff, but there's some softness in the gates. Consistent takeup starts just off the floor for the hefty clutch, and there's a nice interplay between left foot and right hand. Short gearing benefits windy roads, not highways: Revs hold around 3,000 rpm at 70 mph.
Contrasting the S209's drivetrain delays is its braking immediacy. Brembo six-piston front and two-piston rear calipers carry over from the STI but now hold high-friction pads. Typically soft-spoken testing director Kim Reynolds abandoned form, calling the brakes "Eh, so-so… That is, so, so amazing!" Brushing or stomping on the extremely firm pedal results in "instant bite, zero dive, and straight, steady stops," according to Walton. He found the fade-free stoppers "extremely effective and trustworthy." The S209 halted from 60 mph in 103 feet, improved over the regular STI's 109 feet, and ahead of the M2 Competition's 106 feet. Don't worry about the squeaking and scraping noises—that's just the track-spec pads working.
