I shouldn’t love the 2025 Subaru Legacy as much as I do. There are better sedans in the dwindling mid-size segment, a segment that will continue to dwindle next year when Legacy production ends. But love is seldom rational, especially when it involves a complicated history.
Fortunately, the Legacy has some uncomplicated history too. Colin McRae drove one in the early days of Subaru’s rally efforts, winning the British Rally Championship in 1991 and 1992. His exploits didn’t go unnoticed by my twenty-something self, so while my friends lusted over the WRX, I instead bought the rustiest 1991 Legacy Turbo on earth. If only the current model—seven generations removed from the one McRae drove—had the same performance aspirations of its forefathers. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
This last drive of the 2025 Subaru Legacy is about sending the sedan into the sunset with smiles. Over the course of 1,000 miles, I got way off the beaten path, battled Mother Nature, revisited the place where my Legacy love affair began, and did a whole lotta driving in between. Through it all, the Subie did everything I asked of it. Well, almost everything.
Prologue: The Final Legacy
The car featured here is a range-topping 2025 Legacy Touring XT fitted with just about every option. That includes a surprisingly posh leather interior. The 11.6-inch portrait-oriented center screen feels modern, but analog gauges are a reminder that not everything has to be digital. And hiding within the center console—an honest-to-goodness CD player.
Pressing the start button brings the turbocharged 2.4-liter boxer four to life. Even after 35 years, the horizontally opposed four-pot driving all four wheels is this car’s pièce de résistance. Yes, there were some variations through the years—front-wheel drive was available early in the Legacy’s life, and six-cylinder engines were optional in the US from 2001 through 2019.
But the memorable models—the first-gen turbo, the mid-2000s GT, and the twin-turbo variants from Japan—all had the flat-four. With 260 horsepower and 277 pound-feet of torque, the final generation bows out as the most powerful Legacy ever offered in North America.
All in all, it’s not a bad way to spend $39,481.
Chapter One: The First Legacy
I hammered the throttle on northbound I-75 until the highway ran out. Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan, is the final exit before Canada, the spot where I first saw my 1991 Subaru Legacy Turbo, purchased in 2011 for the tidy sum of $1,200. It had 110,000 miles on the odometer, a new clutch, and a strong-running EJ22T under the hood. It also had multiple fuel leaks, electrical glitches, busted suspension, and more rust than the Titanic.
It was far too rusty to save, but that didn’t stop me from trying. What started as love transformed into hate, then ended in the worst possible place—a crumbling unibody. I eventually sold it for parts, accumulating maybe a couple hundred sketchy miles during my brief ownership. Even then, with jiggly steering and disturbing clunks from the suspension, I smiled every time the rear stepped out under power. But I never had a chance to truly enjoy it.
So when Subaru announced the end of Legacy production, I knew I needed to visit this exact spot, a small self-service car wash at the end of I-75 where my Legacy love affair began. I couldn’t save that old car, but I could honor its existence by giving this last one its best life, if only for a little while. I expected to get a bit emotional by the whole thing, but after a few photos at the car wash, I just wanted to get back on the road. Maybe it was the EJ22-sized hole in my heart. Or maybe, I was really enjoying this car.
Chapter Two: Stalwart Legacy
Two days after traveling north, I ventured 350 miles back south for more motoring nostalgia. What did I find? A massive tornado destroyed much of the neighborhood I once lived in during college. The small used car dealership where my automotive career began had closed. And the coolest dance club in town was now a house. Getting old(er) sucks.
This segment of the road trip was not the bittersweet symphony I’d envisioned. Then a wicked thunderstorm blew in some fresh perspective. What really matters in a vehicle is not nostalgia, but getting home safely.
First came the wind gusts (80 mph, I’d learn later) that almost flipped an RV a few lengths ahead of me on the highway. Those same gusts pushed me towards the shoulder, and then the skies opened up with a downpour I hadn’t seen since my days in Tornado Alley. Visibility dropped to a couple hundred feet in a few seconds, creating a potentially deadly situation amid moderate traffic running 75 mph. I gently slowed as I lost sight of cars in front, afraid of hitting them but also afraid of getting punted from the rear if I slowed too quickly. It was a no-win situation, the automotive Kobayashi Maru if you will. So I did what Kirk would do.
I cheated.
Subaru’s EyeSight driver assist tech has been around for several years. I’m a major proponent of sticking to manual control in bad weather, but since I was basically driving blind, I clicked it on. Praise be, the adaptive cruise control detected the traffic that I could no longer see. Moreover, it knew their speed and adjusted itself accordingly to keep a safe distance. I couldn’t control drivers behind me, but at least I had some info on the cars in front. That gave me breathing room to watch the rearview a little closer, not to mention all the debris coming in from the west.
The Legacy was already in my heart at this point, but after those 10 minutes of meteorological hell, it achieved something even greater. It earned my gratitude. Subaru’s EyeSight driver-assist system is among the best I’ve tested, but to completely win me over, the Legacy had one final challenge to face. And for this, I needed every single driver assist turned off.
Chapter Three: Rally Legacy
No, I didn’t sign up for an SCCA RallyCross event. But I learned to drive on the same rural dirt roads used by the American Rally Association for the annual Sno-Drift rally in Northern Michigan. Those roads are a scant 30 minutes from my house, so after 900 pavement-pounding miles, I turned onto a narrow, desolate stretch of sand and dirt and disabled every safety nanny I could find.
Even with mild Yokohama Avid tires, the Subie bit hard and shot forward like a fullback with all 260 hp unleashed. There was nary a wiggle as speeds increased, making me wonder if traction and stability systems were actually turned off. This thing felt freaking planted and the quiet cabin created a serene atmosphere. But I didn’t want planted or serene. I wanted Derek Ringer shouting pace notes over a burly boxer exhaust note. I wanted wind noise and gravel pinging off the fender liners. I wanted to saw the steering wheel as all four wheels clawed for grip.
I eventually came to the first notable corner, a medium right that opens with plenty of visibility at the base of a small hill. With no handbrake (the parking brake is electronic) I set up for a small scandi flick, still unsure if the stability control was truly off. A small turn to the left, a tug to the right, and then it happened—whirring, clicking, ABS pump growling, and who-knows-what-else in the Subie’s nerve center switching over to full rescue mode. Less than a second after the rear began to slip, I suddenly found myself nice and straight trying to enter the corner.
The Legacy, a car that started its life as a stage rally champion, has non-defeatable stability control. I could only imagine Colin McRae’s disapproval.
Utterly destroyed inside, I simply drove through the corner without incident and made my way back to the pavement. The Legacy was capable of zipping through off-road stages in a straight line with ridiculous confidence. But driving home felt like my time with the old 1991 Turbo—so much potential that would never be realized.
Epilogue: A Worthy Legacy
To Subaru’s credit, the Legacy was superb in almost every way. I didn’t even mind some of its annoying quirks, like the TomTom navigation that’s useless for finding anything without an exact address. Or the way the engine shakes the car on startup like a $2,500 winter beater. Or the silly paddle shifters that simulate gear changes on the gearless CVT. Hell, I didn’t even mind that transmission—it keeps the engine right in the powerband, making that so-so 260 hp feel like a lot more. Its digital systems are nicely balanced with analog controls, the tech isn’t overly complicated, and that trunk … you could camp in there. Comfortably.
But this end-of-the-road Legacy is far from where it began. I still vividly remember driving a friend’s 2005 GT wagon, rowing gears and generally having a blast in that car. I never had a chance to drive a fifth-generation Legacy, the first iteration of the CVT and arguably the beginning of the end from a fun perspective. The sixth generation killed the manual, and by this time pretty much every mid-size sedan had an all-wheel drive option. Aside from the engine, which isn’t nearly as thrifty on fuel as its competitors, the Legacy simply isn’t special anymore.
It grew up, got a job, and bought a house next to the Camrys.
I won’t let that dissuade me from loving this car and can’t I hate Subaru for making the decision to end it all. People want SUVs, I get it. But most love isn’t rational and the best love never is. This Legacy is so close to being the best version of itself. Give it a prettier face. Turn up the boost for another chunk of horsepower. Swap the CVT for a geared automatic with paddle shifters. Add a big ol’ OFF button for the stability systems. Ditch the electronic parking brake for a manual lever. Definitely keep the CD player.
Sadly, the Legacy’s fate is sealed. I’ll lament what it could’ve been. And I bet a million dollars worth of Subaru head gaskets I’m not the only one. Farewell, old friend.
