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The hunt for Panola Road was going poorly. Somewhere between exiting I-85 North and turning onto I-20 East I had taken a wrong turn. It was a misty, cold night in a region bereft of adequate street lighting. I was lost and not at all at peace with the world — at least not with this part of the American South where I had nothing but bad memories from the Civil Rights days.

But I promised my goddaughter, Sydney, that I’d be in Georgia for her 15th birthday. Adult promises made to children are promises that should be kept, especially promises made by men to young girls who have every reason to believe that promises made by men are worthless.

So, here I was on a wet winter night driving around in circles on dark streets with barely legible road signs, shifting gears in a 2007 Subaru Forester Sports 2.5 XT wagon, trying to get to Sydney’s birthday celebration on time. I was cursing myself for not buying the portable navigation system I’d planned to buy several months earlier, and cursing Subaru of America for not installing an onboard navigation system in the vehicle I was driving.

It was a ridiculous rant. I am 59 years old and have been driving, albeit illegally for several seasons, for 46 years of that time. When I was underage and driving without a license or parental permission, I had no problems getting to where I wasn’t supposed to be going without a map. My only concerns then were reaching my destination and returning home without detection by police, parents or nosy neighbors.

For many years after being legally licensed, I spurned maps along with the usually correct navigational advice of my wife, Mary Anne. Getting lost was an adventure, and I didn’t want her or a paper map to intervene.

I laughed at myself and stopped being upset with Subaru. I considered my luck. What better vehicle in which to be lost in wet weather than an all-wheel-drive Subaru Forester wagon?

The case can be made that the Forester, introduced in 1997, was the first of what automotive marketers now call “crossover” vehicles — of what I prefer to call “tall wagons.”

But the difference between the Forester and the newest breed of tall wagons is that the Forester always was a genuine all-wheel-drive people hauler. It never pretended to be a jungle-conquering, off-road sport-utility vehicle, or anything else.

There is something comfortable, reassuring about genuine articles. They have a history of quality and a value that extends far beyond the commercial meanings of the term. You trust them, because you trust the people who designed, developed and manufactured them.

The Forester Sports 2.5 XT wagon is designed right — big enough to accommodate a family of five, fuel-efficient enough to keep them out of bankruptcy court, fast enough to easily land them in traffic court and safe enough to keep them upright on weather-compromised roads.

The latter point requires some elaboration. The Forester Sports 2.5 XT’s core technologies include its longitudinally placed 2.5-liter, 224-horsepower, four-cylinder “boxer” engine and its symmetrical all-wheel-drive system.

The engine’s flat, compact design featuring horizontally opposed cylinder banks — thus the “boxer” name — contributes to a low center of gravity by concentrating engine weight lower in the chassis. The result is better vehicle balance and handling, a collective plus for accident avoidance maneuvers and for driving on curving roads.

Subaru’s symmetrical all-wheel-drive system works with the boxer engine to simultaneously send drive power to all four. That arrangement is substantially more efficient than the transfer of drive power in all-wheel-drive cars with transverse-mounted engines primarily designed for front-wheel-drive operation. In the Subaru system, drive power is more consistent, more immediate . . .

I gave up looking for Panola Road, but remained determined to keep faith with Sydney. I called her mother, Marilyn, confessed that I was hopelessly lost, jettisoned my illusions of manhood and begged her to dispatch a rescue party to where I was parked near Redan High School. She laughed and complied.

It was all worth it. Have you ever seen the smile on the face of a teenage kid you made happy simply by being there? Golden! But it came with a price for Sydney: I made her promise not to get behind the wheel of a car until her 16th birthday, never to drink and drive and never to fail to wear seat belts in a car or truck.

I want to see her graduate from high school . . . and college.