The 2000 Subaru Outback: A Review
It was by coincidence that my first car happened to be born in the same year as I was. Before me it was owned by two others and the guy who sold it to me had a less than stellar relationship with the vehicle. Like any nasty relationship, it can leave some similarly nasty scars that stick around a lot longer than you’d like. A major engine oil leak, a weak suspension, a gaping hole in the exhaust, and an engine that gives me the impression that I am the last owner of this vehicle. I would go a long way to say that I made a poor decision when I purchased this car for $1000. To which I’d say, “it’s a $1000 car.” It’s also reasonable to ask why I even bother keeping it around. To that the answer is more complicated.
In the middle of a pandemic, living in a city with an unreliable public transit network, and in need of work, I set out to find a car using the savings I had accumulated by doing absolutely nothing in lockdown. Immediately I found a candidate, “2000 SUBARU OUTBACK” The photos looked promising and the maintenance history listed on Kijiji (which I would later learn was done shoddily by the owner) looked similarly promising. After discussing it with a friend who knew more about cars than I did we found out the vehicle belonged to someone we both went to highschool with. You wouldn’t sell a piece of shit to some guy you went to highschool with two years ago would you?
One problem immediately presented itself: the car wasn’t in the city I live in. No, it was in the middle of nowhere. This necessitated the search for a ride from friends to just see the car. After these transportation troubles were figured out I eventually purchased the vehicle, eager to hit the road.
It’s my belief that 70% men are born with a little worm in their brains that comes alive whenever they get behind the wheel of an automobile. A little worm that tells them, “hey, you have a vroom vroom. Go VROOM VROOM!” I am not immune to this terrible affliction and immediately drove it as much as I could, as stupidly as I could, through empty rural roads. It was during these adventures I discovered more problems with the vehicle. It made an orchestra of different sounds, none of which were native to the species of vehicle. From wind howling and whistling due to poor seals, to the horrendous clunking and grinding when it would come to a stop.
I am not writing this piece to garner your sympathy for how crappy my vehicle is, because the truth is that one man’s trash is indeed another man’s treasure. This car, affectionately named Holden, has leather seats, an aftermarket stereo system, more trunk space than a student of drama could possibly need, and cup holder straight out of a James Bond movie (you press a spot on the centre console and it pops out all sci-fi like). To quote Queen drummer, Roger Taylor, “I’m in love with my car.”
Every so often I will find something that hints to Holden’s history: a mickey mouse sticker on one of the sun visors, some lighters kept next to the spare tire, a car freshener that reads “Road trip? Alpaca my bags.” As the cruel Canadian winters set in, it’s not just the heaters that keep me warm. I drove it to get myself to the BLM protests in my city, I drove it to avoid exposure to the pandemic, and I’m driving it to blast music and sing along while I escape the uncomfortable realities of the world we live in.
We didn’t start this year together but by God I hope to end it together. A Gen Z car for Gen Z’s greatest challenge yet. Maybe that’s why I can’t seem to shake this fucking car. Maybe I’m projecting too much onto a machine with four wheels, all-wheel-drive, and dual moon roofs, and a massive oil leak. Maybe.
The car was born in the year 2000, just like me, and just like me it is trudging through 2020, and while neither of us have made 2020 “our bitch”, we certainly haven’t collapsed yet. When Holden’s brakes seized while leaving a friend’s house (which required the delicate procedure of removing one of the brakes and driving 30km home in the still of the night), or when I was unable to be around family who had passed away due to the pandemic, we still kept driving.