Pride and stubborness get ya burned.

I was in a hurry and needed to get to the board meeting for pizza. I knew the fuel light was already illuminated like an annoying beacon of doom, but my math was good and I knew I had at least 20 miles of fuel left, plus coasting.So, I am the kind of guy who can stop and ask for directions when I'm lost, as long as I can admit I'm lost. But when it comes to conquering the gas tank, pride and stubborness can be a powerful drug as I push the envelope of "miles per gallon". For instance, I know that in my wife's Accord the indicatior light must be fully on and not dimming on and off with hills and acceleration and stops before the 50 mile countdown begins. I have yet to miss that one, been close but never missed. My Civic is similar. The challenge is that you need to remember the math and estimate gas station location and availability correctly. A challenge I have been up to, until last night.I was heading to a board meeting in seattle for Club Northwest, a local running club (cnw.org), I have been involved in for many years. We host a social half-hour before the meeting and I wanted to attend. So I zoom out the door and jump in my trusty auto knowing I would need to stop for gas on the way. I figured Costco would have the least expensive fuel and I "should" have enough to get there. (Can ya see where I'm going here? It is painful but I need to come clean.) I head out of Monroe passing three stations thinking, "I can save at least 15 cents a gallon in Woodinville. And since the tank is empty that means the car is...8 lbs x 11 gallons = approx. 88 lbs. lighter and needs less fuel to maintian speed, right? " Makes sense; guy sense. I confidently travel on Hwy 522 to the Snohomish River bridge and up the long grade. Five miles down and no problem. Then the bottom fell out. The car lurched forward and jerked back. OH NO! I forgot to factor in the bike rack on the roof. My math was off! NOOOOOOO!!!!! Instantly I was sweating, nervous and fearfull of the looming potential of having to walk in front of all the cars coming home in the evening communte. I would be the poor sucker who ran out of gas and had to walk in the rain in full view of many. A second lurch and jerk. Now what? I wiggled the steering wheel trying to get the small puddles in the tank to coalesce in one spot near the output hose. "If I can get two more miles I'll be at a station and home free." The jerking and lurching started to get more frequent, with only a few seconds inbetween. I knew then it was inevitable, the walk was coming. I crested the hill and accellerated to gain speed for the soon to come coast to a stop, when miraculously the car began to run smooth, a glimmer of hope. Yes, I can make it! I was on flat ground and doing 60 miles and hour without traffic. Yeah baby, free coasting! Then with 1 mile to go the car lost all fuel and began to die. All hope was lost. I threw it into neutral and began the coast to a stop. I crept to stillness within view of a traffic light and a gas sation. I estimated the shame to last half a mile. Well, time to walk. I knew pizza was now out of reach. The walk to the station was a humbling stroll in the rain to buy gas that was 10 cents more expensive than the three stations I confidently passed by only minutes ago. The attendant was very helpful, offering a special fuel can for people like me, thanks. I made the walk back under the watchful eye of a Snohomish County Sheriff. I waved and raised the can, he nodded and waved back before driving off into traffic. By the time I reached the station with my car I was resolved to eat cold pizza. But I learned one thing, my tank can hold exactly 11.243 gallons of gas. Nice to know, it will help with the math next time.11 gallons x 36 mpg (+/- with mixed driving conditions) + 2 mpg with the rack off (gotta remember to take off the rack) = ready for another 418 miles, maybe.Tony