Some nice read:
https://www.facebook.com/notes/the-gravel-crew/last-chance-saloon-subaru-legacy-rs/2415482621834706/
Last Chance Saloon - Subaru Legacy RS
The Gravel Crew?
Thursday, 7 November 2019?Reading time: 11 minutes
It won just the once, was underpowered for much of its career, and at times placed the relationship that birthed it under unbearable strain, yet the Subaru Legacy RS can stake a claim to being among the most important rally cars of the last 30 years.
Were you tasked with drawing up a list of the most significant cars to have competed in the World Rally Championship over the course of the last fifty years, then chances are that the Subaru Legacy RS wouldn?t make the top ten. It probably wouldn?t even break into the top twenty.
Subaru?s bluff, somewhat anonymous saloon could never hope to match the glamour of the Stratos, the cult appeal of the Escort or the transformative impact of the Quattro. It looked fairly unremarkable, was comprehensively shaded by its Impreza successor, and won just once despite having a long, 4 year Works career. Needless to say, these are not the sort of traits one normally associates with motorsport royalty.
Yet there?s an argument to be made for Fuji Heavy Industry?s first crack at a regular rally winner being more than worthy of inclusion in such rarified company. See despite its limited impact on the WRC history books the Legacy RS really, really mattered. It demonstrated rallying?s worth at the boardroom level and gifted Subaru a competition pedigree it retains to this day, and this despite the brand having been absent from the top flight of the sport for over a decade. In short the Legacy provided the automotive world with the textbook example how to go about cultivating sporting credentials, a lesson since taken to heart by the likes of Suzuki, Skoda, and most pertinently of all, Hyundai
Eastern Promise
Not that Subaru was the first to make the link between stage wins and forecourt sales, far from it. Generations of would be Hopkirks, Clarks and Vatanens had been inspired to potter to their local BMC or Ford dealership by the pine-dodging exploits of their heroes, but what differed was the almost non existent public profile of the company in question. Whereas the likes of BMC and Ford were already well established by the time they dabbled in rallying, Subaru was anything but. It was barely known outside of a core group of hillside farmers, and had only begun exporting cars to the UK at the dawn of the 1980s.
Subaru was well placed when it came to forging a link between its competition machines and its road car range though, it having made symmetrical all-wheel drive a cornerstone of its marketing a decade beforehand. The company was also keen to showcase its commitment to flat four ?boxer? engines, and, along with its arch rivals from Japan, had wholeheartedly welcomed the return to production based rallying Group A represented.
Limited attempts by Subaru to bolster its motorsport pedigree had been made before Group A?s promotion to the top of the rallying tree. The likes of Possum Bourne and Mike Kirkland had tried their utmost to extract headline grabbing results from the RX Turbo in 1985 and 1986. Their efforts had delivered regional wins and provided something for the Subaru marketing department to crow about, but it was clear that something altogether more powerful, sophisticated and better developed would be required for consistent WRC success.
The good news was that the basis for just such a rally car had been announced in early 1989, the BC shape Legacy, complete with new, all alloy twin cam ?boxer,? the EJ. The engine?s flat-four layout promised to be an advantage when it came to weight distribution, while the addition of forced induction and permanent all-wheel drive had effectively gifted the Legacy the prerequisites for WRC success at the close of the 1980s.
Banbury?s Finest
That the new car had promise was clear to see, but the twin virtues of power and traction alone were not enough to guarantee Subaru success. The RX was good enough for moderate success closer to home, but it was abundantly clear that mounting and sustaining an assault on the WRC would require Subaru to follow in the tracks of its Japanese rivals and pair with a European motorsport specialist. Toyota had Toyota Team Europe, Mitsubishi had Ralliart, and Nissan would in time cultivate Nissan Motorsports Europe.
Subaru of course had Prodrive, or at least it did by the end of 1989. The Banbury based concern had found itself at something of a loose end in the wake of the departure of both BMW and Rothmans from the rally stage, but its ability to punch above its weight was already in evidence. An approach by Ryuichiro Kuze, now installed as the head of the newly created performance division, Subaru Technica International, was made, and before long the foundations of a famous motorsport relationship had been laid.
The worth of getting so firmly into bed with a Europe-based specialist was proved before the ink on the Prodrive/Subaru contract had had time to dry, STI having agreed to send a raft of resolutely production based Legacies to contest the 1990 Safari Rally. Somewhat predictably given their humble origins, Subaru?s relative lack of experience and the nature of the Safari, they struggled. The East African savannah was littered with failed con-rod bolts that year, and it was abundantly clear that much development work, not to mention a degree of deference to Prodrive expertise, was required.
Prodrive?s own efforts were far more polished, both in terms of the technical spec of the Legacy RS and its wider operation. DR?s company was soon entrusted with development of all aspects of the car bar the creation of its engines, and as such can be credited with the decision to eschew viscous couplings for tougher, more versatile clutch type centre differentials. It was move that would be vindicated with the passage of time.
Teething Troubles
Not everything about the Legacy?s EJ was advantageous from a rallying perspective, with the location of its intercooler being a good example. The ?boxer? configuration meant that Subaru had a dearth of options when it came to locating it, and while its decision to mount it atop the head and towards the back of the engine made perfect sense from a mass market point of view, it was less than ideal from a rallying one. It meant that, in common with the Celica ST165 and Sunny GTI-R, keeping under bonnet temperatures under control would be something of a challenge.
The Legacy?s flaws were thrust into sharp relief at various points throughout the 1990s season, most dramatically on the Acropolis. Tackling the roughest non-African event was always going to be an uphill slog for such a new car, even with Prodrive at the helm and Markku Alen at the wheel, but all associated with the programme recall the Greek affair as nothing short of a baptism of fire. Suspension units failed, ECUs fried and boost fluctuated in the scorching sun, robbing the Legacy of power at random. It was almost relief when Alen?s ?boxer? finally threw in the towel on SS39.
Boxing Clever
This rather set the tone for much of 1990 and 1991, Subaru having sensibly opted to run a partial programme of carefully selected events in both years. Impressive performance was frequently bookended by spells of maddeningly poor reliability, with con rod and ECU failure most often to blame. It meant that the Subaru-Prodrive relationship rounded out its second year of existence with nothing more impressive than a 3rd place to show for its efforts.
As is so often the case when it comes to the Prodrive, the tale of how the assortment of Banbury based engineers came to be entrusted with Subaru?s Works engine development programme involves David Richards. The championship winning co-driver had been formulating a plan to contest the British Rally Championship with the Legacy, and while the assault would ultimately prove beneficial for Banbury?s trophy haul (Colin McRae took back-to-back wins in 1991-1992, with Richard Burns adding a third in 1993), its real advantage was the degree of trust it instilled in the company.
Not only did the Prodrive built EJ in the nose of McRae?s Legacy make a good deal more power than the STI-built ones still powering the Works machines, it did so in a more reliable fashion. The final straw, or more correctly, con-rod, came when Alen?s engine expired on the opening stage of the final leg of the 1000 Lakes 1991. Not only did it prompt the Finn to seek alternative employment for the following year it was enough to convince the Subaru top brass of Prodrive?s worth, a point handily underscored a few months later when Ari Vatanen took the Legacy to what was then the best result of its career, 2nd on the RAC. Henceforth, all engine construction would be entrusted to DR and Co.
All We?ll Drive
Prodrive?s gradual refinement of the Legacy coincided with one of the biggest leaps in the technology underpinning the construction of rally cars since the Group B era, the active differential. While hardly as dramatic as the introduction of all-wheel drive and forced induction a decade earlier, the mass adoption of ?active? technology constituted a fundamental shift in how WRC cars were developed and, increasingly as the ?90s wore on, driven.
Never a company content to rest upon its (considerable) technical laurels, Prodrive had been working hard to make active technology a viable proposition for the Legacy for some time. Basic by the standards of the setups which would come to dominate the WRC less than half a decade later, Prodrive?s first fully active centre nevertheless constituted a hugely significant addition to the Legacy?s armoury when it debuted on the Swedish Rally in 1992. McRae, now firmly ensconced in the Works squad and swiftly becoming one of Subaru?s most prized assets, rewarded Prodrive?s exhaustive development push with another 2nd place.
Motu Master
Active differentials, recalcitrant boxers and beaming Subaru executives are all well and good, but these aren?t the things that most people recall whenever the Legacy?s rally career is mentioned. What is well remembered, and remembered in glowing, near mythic terms, is the manner in which its lone WRC victory was secured, and of course the name of the man responsible. Indeed, for many the entire project can be summarised by one image alone, that of a ruddy cheeked Scot chucking a blue and yellow Japanese saloon along New Zealand?s Motu Road with barely controlled, almost reckless abandon.
The very fact you?re reading this publication means that there?s no need to delve too deeply into how Colin McRae secured his, Prodrive and Subaru?s first WRC win, but it?s worth recounting the moment that ripped the wind from the sails of his closest rivals - that infamous blitz through the Motu Road. The 25 year old began the 45km run through Motu in 4th place, just under half a minute off the lead Legacy of team mate Vatanen. By the end of the stage, McRae, aided by his decision to plump for soft compound Michelins and the demise of his team mate, had made up the difference and jumped into the lead of the rally. He?d eventually beat Francois Delecour to the win by 27 seconds.
The rest, as they say, is history. The Legacy was pensioned off, Subaru content that its full potential had been extracted and that Prodrive could be entrusted with the keys to the Impreza development programme.
Quite whether this story of technological boundary pushing, image reinvention and a single, solitary win is enough to place the Legacy on the same level as other, more obvious rallying icons is up for debate. It was certainly no world beater, nor did it ever give the appearance of having the potential to be one. Yet on some, fundamental level, the Legacy can be credited for everything that came later: all those 555-bedecked Impreza wins, the countless millions of Foresters, Imprezas and Justies sold through Subaru dealerships across the globe, they all owe something to this three-box saloon and the team that developed and rallied it. One of the most significant rally cars of the last 30 years? Maybe, just maybe.