A friend of the family, Joan taught me how to drive. During the first lesson I blew the engine on my 1967 Volkswagen Beetle. Another friend of the family, Hilton, rebuilt the engine. He must've done a good job, because it didn't blow up again in spite of being piloted by a sixteen year old trying to out-run everything. I even beat a Nova up Caribou Hill in Burnaby. That may have been because I was quite comfortable going around corners sideways in the rain and the guy in the Nova wasn't.
Don't arrest me, John, it was a long time ago.
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