The Subaru Impreza 22B STi is one of those rare cars that does not just remind you of rallying’s golden age, it makes that era feel like it has been parked right in front of you, idling impatiently. It is a road car that behaves like a homologation special turned up a notch, a compact coupe that somehow carries the weight of a whole motorsport dynasty without feeling like a museum piece. When I talk about the 22B as rally magic reborn, I am really talking about how this one Impreza compresses history, hardware and emotion into something that still feels alive every time someone twists the key.

Spend a little time around owners, collectors and even casual gamers and you realise the 22B is not just another cult Japanese performance car, it is a touchstone. Values that now stretch to around $250,000 for a clean example, and stories of people chasing chassis numbers like lost lottery tickets, are not just about scarcity, they are about a car that still delivers the raw, mechanical thrill that modern performance machines tend to smooth out.

From WRC hero to instant myth

What gives the Subaru Impreza 22B STi its aura is that it was born as a celebration of real rally dominance, not as a marketing exercise in nostalgia. The widebody, the squat stance and the signature blue-and-gold look were not invented in a studio, they were pulled straight from the World Rally Championship era when Colin McRae and his peers turned gravel stages into prime-time drama. The production car’s swollen arches and gold BBS wheels were directly inspired by McRae’s WRC machine, and with a close-ratio gearbox bolted in, the result was basically a road‑legal rally monster that looked and felt like it had just left parc fermé.

That link to the stages is not just cosmetic. The cars built by STI (Subaru Tecnica International) received hardware that mirrored the competition machines, from the aggressive front bumper to the functional rear wing and even details like the tailgate treatment and rear wiper that echoed the World Rall cars of the period. When I look at a 22B in profile, I do not see a tuned street car, I see a works machine that has been given just enough civility to wear plates and pass an inspection, and that is exactly why it feels like rally magic brought back to life.

Numbers that turned into legend

Part of the 22B’s mystique comes from the cold, hard production figures that enthusiasts now recite like folklore. Only 424 units were officially built, with 421 sold to customers and 3 remaining as prototypes, which means every chassis carries a built‑in story about how it escaped the factory and where it ended up. That tiny run is why a single owner can talk about driving “61” of “400” ever built, and why a car that once sat in regular classifieds now trades hands for around $250,000 if you can even find one. When I hear someone casually mention that they own number 61 of 400, it lands less like a spec sheet detail and more like a confession that they are holding a piece of rolling motorsport history.

That scarcity was baked in from day one. Another reason why all the Impreza 22B STIs made were sold so quickly is that only 400 examples were produced for the Japanese market, making it an ultra‑rare Subaru by any standard, and that figure of 400 has become a kind of shorthand for just how limited the car really is. When you fold in the broader total of 424 units worldwide, you start to understand why a special episode of Behind the Glass could revolve around Richard turning up with a Subaru 22B and why that single appearance on a podcast recorded in Aug still echoes around enthusiast circles through clips of that Behind the Glass moment.

The way it drives, and why it still matters

Rarity alone does not make a car feel like rally magic, though, and the 22B’s real trick is that it still drives like a purpose‑built weapon rather than a fragile collectible. Under the hood sits a turbocharged boxer engine that enthusiasts widely believe punches past 300 horsepower in reality, even if the official figures were more conservative, and that healthy output feeds a chassis that was tuned for attack rather than comfort. When I picture threading a 22B down a back road, I hear the flat‑four on boost and think of the way local fans describe it as a car that resonates with enthusiasts, its presence a reminder of Subaru’s rally dominance and a machine that is still cherished by those who understand its true value, right down to the 300‑plus horsepower punch.

Behind the wheel, the experience is not subtle. Driving the Subaru Impreza 22B STi is described as an experience like no other, the kind of thing where you imagine the thrill of piloting a car that combines rally‑stage urgency with road‑car usability, offering an exhilarating and engaging driving experience that modern hot hatches rarely match. I think of that every time I read accounts that tell you to get yourself on a deserted, winding dirt road and enjoy the sort of fun usually reserved for guys with Finnish last names, a line that perfectly captures how the 22B turns ordinary roads into special stages for anyone willing to commit, as long as they respect what that Get‑up‑and‑go can do.

Inside, the cabin is simple but focused, a reminder of a time when performance cars were built around the driver rather than a touchscreen. The black interior provides a cockpit designed for pure engagement, with supportive sport seats and a layout that prioritises the connection between steering wheel, shifter and pedals, the same philosophy you see in later performance Subarus where the interior is described as driver‑focused and built to blend excitement with precision handling and turbocharged power, a feel that starts the moment you climb Inside.

Why the 22B hits Subaru people so hard

To understand why the 22B feels like rally magic reborn, you have to understand Subaru people. Fans of the brand talk about the smooth smoothness of the boxer engine, the low center of gravity and the flatness of the layout that gives their cars a unique balance, and the 22B takes that mechanical character and dials it up with motorsport intent. When I listen to owners explain why Subarus are so loved (and hated), they keep coming back to that boxer heartbeat and the way it makes the car feel planted and eager, the same qualities that underpin the 22B’s reputation as the ultimate road‑legal Subaru Impreza, a status that has only grown as more people discover the truth about Feb boxer lore.

Within the Subaru community, the 22B always had a certain status, but over time its reputation as the ultimate road‑legal Subaru Impreza STI has hardened into something close to canon. Owners and tuners talk about it as the high‑water mark, the car that distilled everything they love about Subaru, Impreza and STI into one package, and that is why even heavily modified builds still reference the 22B as the benchmark they are chasing. When I read about people recreating or even improving on the original, I see how the 22B’s legend has become a yardstick for what a road‑going rally car should be, a kind of north star for anyone who believes the Subaru Impreza STI formula peaked with that widebody coupe.

How the myth keeps evolving

What fascinates me is how the 22B’s story keeps growing instead of fading into static nostalgia. Two and a half decades after the car first appeared, owners like Robert have faced the reality that all rare cars do, that time does not care how special your chassis number is, and full restorations are now part of keeping these icons alive. That process of stripping a 22B back and rebuilding it to as‑new condition shows just how much effort enthusiasts are willing to invest to keep the rally legend on the road, and it is why a lovingly restored example can still feel like it has driven straight out of period footage into Two and a half decades of imminent glory.

At the same time, the 22B’s influence is spawning modern reinterpretations that prove the formula still works. A contemporary reimagining like the Prodrive P25 takes Subaru’s Impreza STI 22B template and filters decades of motorsport experience into a £500,000 restomod, a price tag that underlines just how far the legend has travelled from its original showroom slot. When I see a car like that described as a contemporary reimagining of Subaru, Impreza STI and Prodrive heritage, it feels like a direct acknowledgement that the 22B blueprint is still the one to beat, even for companies that helped create the original Prodrive magic.

The 22B in the wider car‑culture echo chamber

Step outside the hardcore Subaru bubble and you still find the 22B popping up everywhere from YouTube to gaming forums, which is how its legend keeps reaching new fans. Videos that open with lines like “dear Mr jackson exclusive doesn’t even begin to describe what you are driving, only 424 examples of the Impreza 22B SD…” set the tone for how rare and special the car is, and the way creators linger on the word Impreza shows how tightly the model name is tied to this one variant. When I watch a clip that simply calls out that figure of 424 and frames the car as something even seasoned collectors rarely see, I understand why a single Impreza can rack up so many views.

Even in gaming spaces, where pixels are cheap and rarity is usually just a menu option, the 22B stands apart. In one Comments Section on a Forza Horizon 5 thread, a user explains that it is a good car IMO and rare, and notes that it is the only GC8‑era Impreza of its kind in the game, which tells you how even virtual garages treat it as something special. When I scroll through that Mar discussion and see people asking why they have seen so many posts about the Subaru 22B, it is clear that the car’s reputation has crossed over from real‑world rally stages into digital culture, helped along by players who have Edited their tunes and liveries to match the original Comments Section hero.

Why it still feels like rally magic reborn

For me, the final piece of the puzzle is how the 22B stacks up against other road‑going rally cars, even decades on. When enthusiasts list the best street machines with rally DNA, they often mention that there were many variants and generations of Subaru’s performance models, but if you are looking for a true rally hero you would probably select the 22B, the same car that Colin McRae famously cherished. That kind of endorsement, where There is a whole lineage to choose from but people still single out this one Sub, is why the 22B keeps getting described as the definitive road‑going rally car, not just another fast Sub.

That status feeds back into how owners talk about living with the car. On forums where people like JayEmm share their unbiased takes, you see long threads dissecting everything from steering feel to turbo lag, and apps like Roadster the platform connecting people through cars, give 22B drivers a place to swap stories about real‑world use instead of just spec sheets. When I read those Mar posts and see how calmly people discuss six‑figure values alongside daily‑driver quirks, it reinforces the idea that the 22B is not just a collectible, it is a living rally icon that still gets driven, debated and loved in a way few other cars can match, something you feel every time you scroll through a Roadster the‑adjacent thread or a fresh clip about why someone still chooses a 20‑year‑old Subaru over anything new.

Even the broader story of why this 20‑year‑old Subaru can cost £250000 fits into that narrative, because it shows how the market has finally caught up with what fans knew all along. When a host in Aug sits down with Richard to talk about why he turned up in a Subaru 22B for a special recording, it is not just a flex, it is a statement about what kind of driving experience still matters in a world of ever‑faster, ever‑safer machines. And when I see people in Mar videos reflecting on how cars once had soul, before they were engineered to pander to safety regulations and fuel economy targets, I realise that the 22B is not just a relic of that era, it is a reminder that you can still have a rally car disguised as a road car, the same spirit captured in every frame of a Mar deep dive into why this particular Impreza still feels so alive.