The US has a bit of a reputation for having crap cars: M3s with half the horses missing, Porsches with dirty great bumpers, giant-engined land behemoths, great in a straight line but terrified of corners. But it's not all bad. Hidden in amongst the slushboxes and snoozemobiles, the keen-eyed buyer can find something to quicken the automotive pulse.

As a graduate student in London, my automotive thrills were supplied by a club sport (okay, poverty-spec) Ford Ka. Perfect for city driving and, more importantly, cheap to run, the littlest Ford was blessed with a fine-handling chassis-though nobody would accuse it of being overpowered. But in 2002, I gave up England's green and pleasant pastures for the sunny beaches of San Diego. Arriving at the Pacific, my car requirements were fairly simple-two doors, two seats, RWD, and fun, with the only sop to practicality being the need to fit a surfboard. Various options were considered, including a Porsche 944, but in the end the Mazda MX-5, or Miata as it's known over here, won the day. Just right for the back roads of San Diego County, I soon learnt the best part of my day could be the 22-mile drive to and from work, including a very one-sided dice with an Enzo. Despite several brushes with the CHP, I managed to talk my way out of all but one ticket.

Two years on the coast came to an end and it was time for something new-a move to Kentucky with my better half. Although the MX-5 was still going strong, we needed something to replace her old sedan and it went without saying that it had to be good to drive. And after driving through Death Valley in the aforementioned roadster, something with AC, electric windows and a little luxury was called for.

I'll admit: I've always had a sly hankering for a turbo Subaru, with its rally-bred credentials, forced induction pep and all-wheel drive. However, the stigma surrounding them-and the insurance-had kept me away. Regarded as a boy-racer car back in the UK, here in the US they fall squarely into the "ricer" camp, and with so many driven into trees and ditches by their young and inexperienced pilots it spawned the catchphrase "WRX? More like w-recks!"

Between the image and the frankly unresolved looks of recent generations, an Impreza was out of the question. Luckily, there was an alternative. Saab needed an entry model below the 9-3 and turned to Fuji Heavy Industries, who agreed to build a run of WRX turbo wagons with a better nose, a nicer interior and a little more refinement. Thus the 9-2x, or Saabaru, was born. A limited run of 9,000 followed, but sales proved hard to come by. A US$27,000 asking price was more than the market could bear, and they languished on forecourts. Then GM had the bright idea [don't they always?- ed] of dropping the price by US$7000.

A conversation or two with my wife, which may or may not have included a new handbag as a bribe, resulted in a trip to the local Swedish car merchant, and an immediate order for our new car. Speccing the car wasn't hard. A clutch and manual gearbox was a must. As seems to be common these days, options were only available in packs, usually containing one attractive option (17" wheels) along with ones we didn't want (moonroof). Luckily Quantrell Saab found us just the car we were looking for: the last Mica Blue manual 9-2x Aero in the country, out the door for US$20,500 and two years free servicing to sweeten the deal.

Now, I know it's not a real Saab. The ignition key is in the wrong place, and it's built in Japan, but it's enjoyable to drive and thankfully not based on a Vauxhall Vectra. Limited numbers make it a rare sight on the road too. Running in began immediately with a 200-mile trip to Indianapolis for the 2005 US GP fiasco. Having to keep the engine under 4,000 RPM for the first 1,000 miles was painful, I can tell you. But a restrained month of city driving later and the upper rev range was finally mine.

The progression from Ka to MX-5 seemed like a fair step up at the time, though now the little convertible seems positively slow. The 9-2x's engine is pretty gutless below 3,000 RPM, especially in Kentucky's hot and humid summers and is about done at 6,000 RPM -the 7,000 RPM redline is a mirage- but in between it's more than quick enough to keep me amused and speedy enough to keep me wary of radar. The engine note is fabulous; a great metallic roar that's two-thirds a 911. The STI-sourced steering provides ample feedback, and the suspension copes well with the pockmarked roads common to the US. The pedals are even perfectly set up to allow me to heel-and-toe my way to work.

Though the 9-2x puts a smile on my face when I turn the key, it's not wholly perfect. The gearbox feels like stirring a box full of rocks and the stock Bridgestone Potenza RE92a tyres are utterly unremarkable. Fuel economy varies from acceptable -25 MPG on the freeway- to appalling; I've seen as low as 14 MPG when driving around town. Being a forced-induction engine necessitates 93 octane petrol (98 RON to those of you in the UK), but even at over three dollars a (US) gallon it's still half the price I'd pay back home. Finally, the lack of anywhere to plug in my iPod remains an annoyance.

Servicing has been limited to oil changes so far. Saab will do this for free, but only every 7,500 miles, and I wasn't convinced that I wanted to wait that long on a brand new engine, so paid for one at 1,500 miles. At this point I switched to fully synthetic, and later discovered the dealer would only cover complimentary dino oil, so ended up bringing along a bottle of Mobil when the car went in for the first free service.

Unlike in California, my morning commute is only a couple of miles, all of it downtown, as opposed to 20-odd miles through the back country. As such I've not really probed the handling limits of the 9-2x, but as a motorway cruiser it's proved its worth, happy to cruise at or above the speed limit for hours at a time.

Still bone stock, in the coming year I've got plans for the turbowagon. A Cobb AccessPort ought to liberate a little more power and help the 2 litre engine with its lag. The original tyres also need to go, in favour of rubber that will flatter the STI steering rack rather than fight with it. After that, who knows? Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.