Estimated reading time: 8 minutes
It’s my Subaru-versary! I think I must have blinked because somehow I’ve been driving beating the ever-loving shit out of this Forester for fifteen years. And it has taken every lick like a heavyweight boxer in a title match who refuses to go down.
On this anniversary, I realize how much I love my car. Not in the obsessive, fanatical treat-it-like-a-museum-piece way. But in the this-is-the-best-car-I’ve-ever-owned way. By a long shot.
Breaking from the norm
And I had to fight for her. Subaru’s were not “a thing” in my world. While they’re very popular in certain regions of the U.S., they weren’t as prominent in Florida and Georgia where I’d lived up to that point in my life.
But I researched the fuck out of what my next vehicle should be and I came down to either a Forester or an Outback. I’d looked and test-driven several other small SUV-ish offerings in the Toyota-Honda-Etc realm that I ruled out for various reasons. Eventually it came down to the Forester and I was damn confident about the choice.
I got pushback from all directions from family members. A Subaru?!? You’d have thought I’d lost my fucking mind. Who knew my car choice could be so divisive? It was rather weird honestly. But that’s a conversation I should probably save for a therapist.
Getting down to adventure business
In spite of my unpopular decision, I secured my new adventure-mobile. At the time, I was homeschooling the kiddos so it became the literal vehicle by which we explored and learned. The car became our mobile school.
We packed up our camping gear—oftentimes with The Disapproving Beagle—and hit the road. This Forester covered a shit-ton of ground in the course of our road-schooling adventures. We camped, geocached, explored national parks, and visited historic sites and museums all over the U.S. and Canada in this plucky little car.
She’s criss-crossed the country from points as far as Key West, Vancouver BC, Los Angeles, and Prince Edward Island. This little car has got some serious fucking adventure cred.
Semi-retirement
Our road-schooling adventures wound down as the kids attended higher-level homeschooling classes. She more frequently served as my mobile office while the kids were in class. Since moving out west she’s mostly enjoyed semi-retirement as a putt-around-town car.
Which aligns with her beleaguered status, having done hard time as my adventure-mobile. A lot of her bits-and-pieces are showing signs of how hard I’ve treated her. The seats are stained—like hella stained—with 160,000-plus miles of adventures, kids, and dogs.
Memories
So with that intro of sorts, here are some random memories about my beloved Forester.
Maintenance on the road
Given my penchant for lengthy road trips, she’s had oil changes and such all over the country. During what was supposed to be a routine maintenance stop in Maine, a mechanic suggested she needed new rear ball joints.
I balked at first, partly due to the delay in our travel plans but also because I wasn’t certain I wasn’t being played. Let’s face it, I wouldn’t be the first woman to be screwed over at an auto shop.
Fortunately I was able to get ahold of my mechanic in Georgia and ask him if that sounded legit. He said, “The way you load that car?!? Yes, you need ball joints! And don’t try to get home from Maine on them. Fix it.”
I had the repair done—obviously!—and subsequently apologized to the Forester for treating her so unkindly. Not that I changed my ways, mind you, but I did thank her for taking one for the team.
Testing my mechanic’s patience
Speaking of my trusted mechanic, I swear he had to dread every time I came in. I returned from one of our gonzo-cross-country trips for an all-points kind of service.
In going over everything that needed to be done I said, “Hey, while it’s on the lift just be sure to give it a good look underneath.”
He replied, “Everything is tucked up in there pretty well on these cars, I’m sure it’s fine.”
I gave him some raised eyebrows and said, “No man, really. Give it a good look.”
He sighed and sort of deflated like an exasperated parent, “What the hell have you been doing now, Val?”
“Don’t ask questions, man. You don’t fucking want to know. Just give her a little extra love this time, ok?”
Everything was fine, by the way. Another win for the Forester.
Campground entertainment
As for the the-way-you-load-that-car-of-course-you-need-ball-joints scenario, we were often the subject of much amusement in campgrounds. Other campers with much bigger vehicles—or a lot less gear—would insist there was no-fucking-way I was getting all our stuff into that car.
When I reminded them we’d gotten there in the car with all that stuff they had to acknowledge it was obviously possible. But they were still skeptical and stood around to watch me pack. So yeah, I had audiences marveling at my totally lit, badass Forester packing skills.
Camping with Toby
After I moved the Subaru out west, we camped with Toby out of the Forester exactly once. You know, just for shits-and-giggles even though we usually camped out of my dear man’s pickup.
For the record, there’s a pretty massive difference in car camping with an 80-pound adventure mutt than with a 20-pound beagle. But Toby had a grand fucking time. He loved being able to look over our shoulders from the back seat. What we didn’t account for were the gallons of drool we’d be wearing as a result. Lesson learned.
Snowpocalypse
For all of the bang-for-the-buck I’ve gotten out of this car, there’s one clear “adventure” when she proved she was worth every penny—the Atlanta Snowpocalypse in 2014. I was never so happy to have stuck to my guns about choosing the Forester. She was a champ and the all-wheel drive saved my ass in a really dicey (well, actually really ice-y) situation.
Character
One time the kids and I were at a Subaru dealership for some routine service. We looked around at the shiny new Subarus longing for their next owners while we waited. I mentioned our little adventure-mobile was looking pretty bedraggled by comparison. (Keep in mind, this was only a few years into owning her.) The eldest kiddo replied “Yeah, but our Blubaru has character. We’ve done so much in her!”
Damn straight, kiddo. We sure have. And there’s been so much more since then.
The future
She’s definitely showing her age these days. But more so the abuse I’ve unleashed on her over the last fifteen years. Even so, she’s been kind to me in terms of repairs and surprises. These days she has a couple of issues we’re addressing but nothing catastrophic so far. I certainly haven’t been as diligent about maintenance as I was when I was on the road all the time so she’s got a little backlog of TLC that needs tending to.
I plan to drive her as long as possible and hold on to what feels like a lifetime of adventure memories. Plus, I have no desire for a more modern vehicle with their overly-complicated electronics and bullshit “features*“.
But maybe I will invest in some seat covers.
Adventure on, friends.
*My little Forester won’t last forever obviously. But hopefully she’ll outlast the over-teched BS until reason prevails in the auto industry. There’s hope.
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