Reposted from Automobiles de Luxe.

By Gunnar Heinrich

"Why Toronto?" Because it's there. Why not ask Jeremy Clarkson, "Why Ottawa?" Funny thing is - not much time separated his visit to Ontario from my own this past Labor Day weekend.

And while Mr. Clarkson went to Thrifty and was given a Dodge Caravan for all the red-faced belly-aching he did following his 7 hour flight cross the Pond, I spent my own 7 hours on the road to Canada with something ... <<wait a tick for Clarkson-esque pause >> rather more special.

So there I was on Friday morning last, I had decided that a road trip was in order and it was down to procuring wheels that would take over the depreciation work from my own set. I perused through the usual suspects' websites when I found one local rental company's offer to hand over a Dodge Charger for four days @ $179.

Now we're cookin'.

Having driven the Chrysler 300, I figured that the sister-ship was the perfect choice for cruising better than a thousand miles.

I should back up and admit that yours truly just reached that milestone age of 25 - a year I've waited for with greater eagerness than 21 or 18 and that's for one damn reason - car insurance.

So lucky me, those four days wouldn't be taxed with unrepresentative, unconstitutional "under-age fees" that would make my $179 bill blow up to $679 while downgrading me from a Charger to some ten year old Geo.

However, when I pulled into rental co.'s parking lot stuffed full with Taurus (Taurii?) and GMC whaddjamacallits I spied not one Charger.

"Out for an oil change," the friendly fellow two desks over said. Damn.

What else you got?

The lady behind the desk: "Mazda 3,"

Not bad.

"Lincoln Town Car,"

Comfy, but not worth twice the Dodge's price, nor the 25¢ a mile for each and every one after 300. And there really is only one color for the Town Car - black. Beige/gold, by contrast, don't fly 'cuz it ain't.

"Or Ford Taurus."

Just when I thought all hope was lost, the midnight black profile of something three Tauruses and one Caravan down winked at me.

Mustang.

Two years ago, I had driven the new ford mustang and loved it.

So, when the lady said the original price quoted was still honored, it was a Guy Ritchie series of quick cuts of credit card being swiped, pen scratching paper, keys to hand, car door closing, ignition switched on, gauges jumped to life, and taillights and tyres lit all the way off the lot.

Part Two > On The Road Again