![]() 07/09/2017 at 22:13 • Filed to: None | ![]() | ![]() |
I made the 600 mile trip home today and decided to spice it up a bit by taking some of the back roads. I skipped a gas station when the light came on, thinking I would find a better price a little further down the road. I almost ended up walking. Grandpa used to tell us to never pass up a chance to use the bathroom when we were on the road. I’m going to amend that to include never passing up the last gas station when turning off the freeway onto a rural road.
Sorry for the blurry pic. I was still shaking from the adrenaline rush.
![]() 07/09/2017 at 22:16 |
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Your fuel pump hates you.
![]() 07/09/2017 at 22:20 |
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Yep. I’m sure it does. There was less than half a gallon left in the tank. I’m sure there wasn’t a whole lot of cooling going on.
![]() 07/09/2017 at 22:23 |
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I really liked the older Impreza clusters. The center Tach is much cooler looking and useful than the side by side tach and speedo on the 2015+.
![]() 07/09/2017 at 22:23 |
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Cutting it close! I think the worst I’ve done is let my tank get down to about a liter and a half left in it - the tank is a 45 liter tank in my Accent...
![]() 07/09/2017 at 22:29 |
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Thanks! I haven’t driven the latest model. I won’t until they come out with a proper hatch.
![]() 07/09/2017 at 22:30 |
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It was close. The adrenaline rush from the fear of running out almost gave me heart palpitations.
![]() 07/09/2017 at 23:48 |
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I put 20.6 gallons in my 20 gallon LS400 tank one time. In northeast Alabama. The only comparable places in desolation to northeast Alabama are west Texas and Antarctica.
![]() 07/10/2017 at 00:26 |
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I got that low once in my truck towing my old camper last year. I put over 24 gallons into my 25 gallon tank. I wasn’t trying to find a better price, I just didn’t realize how bad my gas mileage had gotten. I remember the feeling of relief when the pump clicked off.
![]() 07/10/2017 at 07:35 |
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:P
![]() 07/10/2017 at 09:30 |
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You know, there is a reason that these are called “idiot” lights
![]() 07/10/2017 at 11:04 |
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Guilty as charged.
![]() 07/10/2017 at 11:11 |
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Especially on back roads
When a traveller in north central Massachusetts takes the wrong fork at the junction of Aylesbury pike just beyond Dean’s Corners he comes upon a lonely and curious country.
The ground gets higher, and the brier-bordered stone walls press closer and closer against the ruts of the dusty curving road. The trees of the frequent forest belts seem too large, and the wild weeds, brambles and grasses attain a luxuriance not often found in settled regions. At the same time the planted fields appear singularly few and barren; while the sparsely scattered houses wear a surprisingly uniform aspect of age, squalor, and dilapidation.
Without knowing why, one hesitates to ask directions from the gnarled solitary figures spied now and then on crumbling doorsteps or on the sloping, rock-strewn meadows. Those figures are so silent and furtive that one feels somehow confronted by forbidden things, with which it would be better to have nothing to do. When a rise in the road brings the mountains in view above the deep woods, the feeling of strange uneasiness is increased. The summits are too rounded and symmetrical to give a sense of comfort and naturalness, and sometimes the sky silhouettes with especial clearness the queer circles of tall stone pillars with which most of them are crowned.
I can see why the adrenals were pumping
![]() 07/10/2017 at 11:25 |
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Now you’re just pouring salt on my wounds. The road I took was all farms, wetlands, and wildlife refuges.