Apparently I
didn’t learn the first time: I had to go and do it again not two weeks later!
This time
it was potentially a lot worse, too. I was driving to work this morning and had
just passed the last Eagle River exit when I happened to glance down and
actually look at my gas gauge. It was dangerously low; like just this side of
empty.
Immediately
panic set in: I still had at least 20 miles to go before the next gas station,
and I was absolutely positive I wouldn’t make it. I kept going through all the
possible ways to handle the situation: who should I call? Should I attempt to
walk to a nearby station (in the dark and in the rain)? Should I just sit there
and wait for “somebody” to rescue me?
Mind you:
my “go-to” rescuer is off hunting out beyond Fairbanks for the next 5 days - so
he’s not an option.
And two
years ago, I would have called my big brother – but that’s no longer an option,
either.
By the time
I managed to coast in to the first gas station I came to on Muldoon I was
literally shaking, I was so upset with myself. The only thing that helped a
little bit was knowing that last time I had made it 387 miles, and I only had
380 miles on the odometer this time.
I totally
blame the move to Palmer on this new bad habit of mine. When I lived in
Anchorage I knew exactly how far I could go on a single tank, and thought
nothing of going for days with my “empty” light on. But now I’m in a whole new
situation: I don’t know where all the gas stations are and have no idea how far
apart my destinations are. Supposedly one day I will learn all that and will
once again be unconcerned about trivial things like gas gauges – but for now I really
need to learn to pay more attention!
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