The original Impreza Turbo was the perennial darling of the motoring press, but when the bug-eyed WRX-generation Impreza broke cover, it had an uncharacteristically cool reception. The endearing rawness had been dialled out to make way for a softer, more rounded demeanour. The Turbo had grown up, but as big fans of the old stager, we mourned the loss of its gritty, no-nonsense exuberance.

Thankfully, having taken the earliest opportunity to pitch the new STi against a raft of benchmark driver's cars (evo 040), we knew Subaru Tecnica International had successfully stoked some heat back into the Impreza's embers. The only question that remained unanswered was whether the STi's appeal would endure the scrutiny of six months' hard labour on the evo Fast Fleet.

By the time BF02 OWP arrived, my opinion of the oft-maligned styling had softened. The new headlights, square-jawed bumper, sculpted sills and regulation boot spoiler administered a much needed injection of attitude, while the blue and gold livery made a satisfying connection with the works rally cars of Makinen and Solberg. If only the pink 'STi' badges hadn't prompted the more juvenile members of the evo team to cast some predictably unsavoury aspersions in my direction...

Any seeds of doubt sown by young Bovingdon about the STi's (or its driver's) masculinity were quickly dispelled by its 267bhp, 253lb ft motor, six-speed 'box, Brembo brakes and, of course, Subaru's trademark all-wheel drive. In fact it was arguably the most potent all-weather point-to-pointer in the fast fleet.

Frustratingly, it was a few weeks before we could really exploit this ability, as OWP arrived with just a handful of miles, demanding a condensed but careful running-in period, as recommended by Prodrive's Mike Wood. The adjustable rev-limit warning light and beeper proved especially effective in deterring premature hoonery.

Subaru dealers are thin on the ground, so when OWP's 1500-mile initial service was due we visited our trusted agent, the ever-helpful Westaway Motors, which conducted a while-you-wait service at the crack of dawn, waving me on my way by 8.45am and charging a modest ΂£39. In fact, with Subaru's recently extended service intervals stretching the mileage between services from a paltry 7500 to a more realistic 10,000 miles, it meant only one further scheduled visit to Westaway. Predictably, Subaru's robust engineering ensured OWP sailed through its 10K service (΂£145) and had an unblemished reliability record when it was prised from my grasp after 14,364 hard-charged miles.

Whenever possible I quenched the STi's thirst with Shell Optimax as it felt lumpy and reluctant filled with anything else: 95 octane was an emergencies-only option. This, as any seasoned Scooby campaigner will know, is an expensive habit when your mount rarely betters 23mpg. It was notably parsimonious on other consumables - a litre-and-a-half of synthetic oil was needed to keep the dipstick wet while, somewhat amazingly, OWP left us on the same set of tyres it was delivered with, although in truth the fronts had only weeks left.

It's natural to become loyal to your long-termer but even I had to confess that the ride was fidgety at best. When on my own I tended to grit my teeth, clasp the Momo wheel a little tighter and drive through the turbulence, but when carrying passengers the jiggling was clearly tiresome for those not directly involved in the action. Prolonged back-road drives challenged the most cast-iron of constitutions. The front seats, though supportive-looking, didn't cosset my admittedly weak back (an old road testing war wound), and a long motorway journey would invariably result in a few aches and twinges. Give me a pukka Recaro any day.

To be fair to the Scoob, it sent a few tingles down my spine, too. The most memorable drives were, more often than not, during the half-hour cross-country dash to Final, our repro house. Always late in the evening on a blissfully traffic-free B660, the STi was in its element. With a clear road and a succession of long straights, undulating, rhythmic curves, 90-lefts and rights and hedge-lined esses, it was easy to keep the STi in its tight but intense power band, whipping up and down the six-speed 'box to maximum effect.

Through the tightest corners the STi's front diff would tug and fight under full power, yanking the Impreza onto the straight with noticeable torque-steer. Through clearly sighted corners you could overcome this by braking deep into the corner (or even left-foot braking) to get the tail to slide out of line, then use the weight and power transfer to encourage the front and rear ends to work in unison. It was much easier and more reassuring through fast corners but the STi's dynamics were generally prone to yo-yo untidily between extremes in a fashion alien to the more malleable and ultimately more effective RB5 and P1. Experience and ability played more of a role in guiding the STi rapidly, but you rarely felt truly at one with it. And in the wet, even the most expert hands moistened at the prospect of pushing hard. No longer the great leveller of abilities, the STi was more than capable of biting the unwary or over-ambitious.

If the chassis had failings, then so, too, did the powertrain. Despite a healthy on-paper output, on the road if you dropped anywhere near 3500rpm you needed a lower gear, perhaps two, if you were after guaranteed response. Granted, once above 4000rpm the 2-litre flat-four delivered the goods but it always seemed like harder work than it needed to be. This was most notable on the motorway, where you'd hope a gentle squeeze of the right foot would spool up enough turbo-fed torque to mosey past middle-lane dawdlers, only to find the motor having an off-boost snooze. From the feedback I've had from you fellow Scoobistas, the Prodrive Performance Package is a satisfying remedy to the problems, but sadly it was signed-off too late to make it worthwhile fitting to OWP.

Besides looking sexy peeping from behind the alloys, the brakes provided excellent stopping power with a good firm pedal. However, during the last month or so I noticed the middle pedal would intermittently have an inch or two of dead travel, usually after a big stop followed by a dash through a series of bumpy corners. A quick chat with an STi expert diagnosed it as mild pad knock-off: a symptom of the part-worn pads being shaken off the face of the disc and back into the calliper during cornering.

Racing cars can suffer the same problem if a driver runs wide on the exit of a corner and rumbles over the kerbing. New pads would no doubt have restored them to full health..
So, after 14,364 miles, how did I feel about the STi? Well, I miss it, certainly. A few weeks in some less powerful machinery has reminded me that, laggy or not, the Impreza packs a weighty punch. I also miss its character and presence, for it frequently got an appreciative nod or comment during the numerous service station visits. While an undeniably entertaining and practical car to live with, it was a mild disappointment to conclude that the STi isn't an all-time great Impreza. With such illustrious forebears as the RB5 and P1 that's not unforgivable, but it does mean the new generation Impreza still has room for improvement. With the revised STi due early next year, Subaru might have done just that. To be continued...