by Corky Guenther

When I wrote the previously published story, I closed by saying that I had not run out of gas in the Tracker - yet.  Well, I eventually conquered that obstacle to a perfect record of running out in every vehicle that Priscilla and I have owned jointly.  I drove the Tracker to work one day, and though I knew it would be close, I had a meeting in the office for which I could not be late.  Traffic was abysmal and my plan to stop at a station near the office evaporated.  So, I went up the hill reasoning that it wouldn’t take much gas to get back down the hill to the station after the meeting.  I could escape the humiliation.  Wrong.  I got to a parking space, went to the meeting and came back to the car.  It started and I backed out.  Then it died.  So much for avoiding the humiliation.  It was fortunate that I could go back to the office and borrow a car for a trip to the station.  One thing I’ve learned, you cannot borrow a gas can from a station any more.  You have to buy one.  I have a collection of one gallon cans to prove it.

When we moved to North Carolina, we owned 4 cars; the TC, the MGB, the Miata and the Jeep.  My record was pretty good.  I’d only run out in the TC once and that was 18 years previously.  When we moved, we bought a 14’ enclosed trailer to move the household stuff we needed to Topsail while the house in Lenoir was being built.  That was the downfall of the Jeep.  We had to go MA as we needed to pick up the MGB and transport it to Lenoir for storage.  We hadn’t put that many miles on the B and I was reluctant to start an 800 mile trip as a shakedown cruise.  Probably should have.  We had long since given up using I95 when traveling to and from MA and Topsail as you can get stuck in traffic for hours for no apparent reason anywhere between Philadelphia, PA and Richmond, VA.  We preferred to travel the coastal routes of US 17, US 13 and US 301 up through NC to Norfolk, across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and up the Delmarva Peninsula to the bottom end of the NJ Turnpike (it is its own nightmare but still the best alternative we think).  At any rate, we departed Topsail intending to stop somewhere on the Delmarva for the night.  Normally, the Jeep gets around 17-18 MPG on a trip.  When we hooked up the trailer, loaded or not, that average dropped to around 10.  What I failed to take into account was that when we left Topsail, we were heading into a 30 knot NE wind – literally.  As we later learned, that dropped the mileage to around 7.5.  We discovered that when we were on US 13 between Elizabeth City, NC and Suffolk, VA.  I don’t know if you’ve driven that road but it is a fairly new divided 4-lane, a great road but, at least at that time, utterly devoid of gas stations.  The low fuel light with its accompanying chime went on about half way between Elizabeth City and Suffolk.  So, we started paying attention and looking for a station but there weren’t any.  We pressed on hoping to make it.  We didn’t.  About 15 miles south of Suffolk, it sputtered so we pulled off and called AAA.  We finally managed to communicate our location to AAA.  You have to wonder if they have a map. 

“Where are you?” They asked.

“On US 13 South of Norfolk, VA at mile marker XYZ” I said.

“Where?”

“US 13 between Elizabeth City, NC and Norfolk, VA.”

“What is the nearest town?”

“I don’t know, we’re just traveling through.”

You get the idea.  Forty five minutes later, we were on our way with a couple of gallons and a promise from the driver to follow us to the nearest station since I wasn’t confident that we had enough.   But we did and about 15 miles later we filled up at the southern edge of Suffolk.  All was well.

That left the B and the Miata.  It was the B that succumbed.  We had been taking small pleasure drives in the country surrounding Lenoir, learning our way around.  I’d filled the tank a couple of times but hadn’t really been paying attention to how often or the number miles.  One day we were out and about when it occurred to me that the gauge had been indicating just under ½ for a while and I made a mental note to stop to fill up before we went home.  About 5 miles from my intended stop (and home) it quit and I heard the familiar PRRRRRRRT.  Yup, out again.  AAA once more.  Same kind of drill.  Fortunately we were under a bridge so at least we had shade.  While waiting for AAA a Good Samaritan stopped and provided us a gallon from a can he carries.  He wouldn’t accept payment either.  Maybe it’s a thing about MGBs.  We canceled AAA and went on.  I filled one of those gallon cans and put it in the boot of the B.

The last time was again in the B but it was planned.  After the previous episode, I wanted to know when it ran out and what the gauge said.  It happened on a CVBMC outing traveling from Hickory to Wilkesboro but this time, I had my trusty gallon in the trunk and the delay was minimal.

That leaves the Miata and I’m trying to be really careful.

August 2019: Since this was originally written, we’ve replaced half of the fleet.  The Jeep was replaced by a Pacifica because it was time.  The Miata was rear ended and punted into a curb taking out the right rear and the left front suspension effectively totaling it.  It was replaced by another one, an RF.  So, I can start with a clean slate.

I should get credit for the first Miata escaping unemptied.