A girl's new best friend

KATHY RENWALD FOR THE TORONTO STAR

Anya de Beer, 12, says the Audi R8 V10 is "probably the best car I'll ever drive in."

Kathy Renwald

SPECIAL TO THE STAR

BEST moment

Rolling into the Ancaster High School Parking lot to pick up my 14-year-old friend and car lover Lara de Beer in the Audi R8 V10 was hands down the thrill of the year for me.

The car was swarmed by teenage boys. Bonus. Then Lara sashayed out like the Girl from Ipanema and glided into the low-slung sportster as only a teenager can do. Remember those screaming girls waiting for the Beatles to arrive in America? Lara was as excited to be flying along in the shiver-inducing R8.

And there were other de Beer girls waiting for rides. I took 17-year-old Marin to the public library where I'm sure she was going to study fuel stratified injection. Then I picked up 12-year-old Anya. "Those are the biggest wheels I've ever seen," was her insightful comment when she saw the R8. After a sporty ride on the leafy roads of Ancaster, Anya posed for a photo with the R8, a grin as wide as a crescent moon.

Next day I got this email comment from Anya on the $192,000 R8: "Thank you so much for giving me a ride in the car it was lots of fun and probably the best car I'll ever be in."

And from Lara, after returning to Earth and the halls of Ancaster High: "I even heard some Grade 12 guys in the hall say, `Dude, did u see that Grade 9 girl in the Audi yesterday...' EEP, I've been noticed!!!!!!!"

Worst moment

I have a love-hate relationship with the refresher driving course at TestFest, organized by the Automobile Journalists Association of Canada.

We get lectured in the morning – that's okay. Then it's out on the track where every bad driving habit and neurosis you've acquired is on public view like Tiger Woods' love life.

Ace instructors ride in the car with you. Mostly they're as pleasant as social workers. Then the door opens and tough guy Pierre Savoy jumps in and puts you through the meat grinder. "That's bad," he said as I stabbed meekly at the brakes before a turn. "That's dangerous," I heard as I took one hand off the wheel during a moment of insanity. "That's not good," he told me as I wiped out three pylons at a tight corner.

So much of it is about vision, looking farther down the road than I'm used to. Well, I can see a hawk circling overhead and pick out bird's-foot trefoil in the grass beside the track, but I can't find the apex of a corner.

Everyone passes. Certificates are handed out by VW Canada, which supplied the vehicles for the track. Due to some mix-up my diploma was switched with Jil McIntosh's. We are supposed to get the correct ones in the mail. I'm still waiting.

Are they trying to tell me something?

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