Know your limits...
Discussion
"Know your limits, son" was what my old gran used to say whenever I fell over, off or out of something as a kid. I now have further good reason to heed her advice.
Picture the scene: I've made good progress from the ferry, have left the autoroute behind and am enjoying some twisty twin-lane blacktop for a few miles. Its a fabulous hot day in rural France and I'm on my own with the roof down. Fuel gauge shows 1/4 full so I make a mental note to stop at the next filling station.
Me? I'm having fun - taking bends hard in third and gassing the engine very slightly on the over-run to produce that popping from the tailpipes which so alarms the natives.
After about another mile the Chim starts to splutter in fifth so I have to change down a notch to maintain progress. This has happened before and I have always explained it to myself that at the bottom of the tank there is probably some crappy fuel - maybe even some dead pigeons - so better to nurse the motor along until I can cram it full of 98RON. Then the impossible happened - the motor barked once and died. I was comprehensively out of fuel.
Can you imagine the language? The initial "@sg
zx@!" alone scared the crows from their nests within a mile radius. I had to hike for 5 miles in the blazing sun (you've seen that film "Ice Cold in Alex"? ) before I found a filling station and could call a taxi to take me back.
Now if I had known the lower limit of my fuel gauge was a full 1/4 inches up from the "empty" zone I would not have spoiled what was otherwise such a great experience. Or on the other hand if I had carried a spare fuel can... or... or.
Gran, you were right. The rest of you be warned!!
Picture the scene: I've made good progress from the ferry, have left the autoroute behind and am enjoying some twisty twin-lane blacktop for a few miles. Its a fabulous hot day in rural France and I'm on my own with the roof down. Fuel gauge shows 1/4 full so I make a mental note to stop at the next filling station.
Me? I'm having fun - taking bends hard in third and gassing the engine very slightly on the over-run to produce that popping from the tailpipes which so alarms the natives.

After about another mile the Chim starts to splutter in fifth so I have to change down a notch to maintain progress. This has happened before and I have always explained it to myself that at the bottom of the tank there is probably some crappy fuel - maybe even some dead pigeons - so better to nurse the motor along until I can cram it full of 98RON. Then the impossible happened - the motor barked once and died. I was comprehensively out of fuel.
Can you imagine the language? The initial "@sg
zx@!" alone scared the crows from their nests within a mile radius. I had to hike for 5 miles in the blazing sun (you've seen that film "Ice Cold in Alex"? ) before I found a filling station and could call a taxi to take me back. Now if I had known the lower limit of my fuel gauge was a full 1/4 inches up from the "empty" zone I would not have spoiled what was otherwise such a great experience. Or on the other hand if I had carried a spare fuel can... or... or.
Gran, you were right. The rest of you be warned!!
Drew at Fernhursts told me, when I bought my Chim, to fill her up when the guage got to the right most of the two black dots on the empty side of the guage.
I've done this religously, getting about 230 - 250 miles range to this point, and putting about 10 or so galls each time.
Theoretically this leaves about 3 galls in the tank but I've never pushed my luck trying to find out.
If you need to 'bend the coathanger', this could be a good benchmark to go for
I've done this religously, getting about 230 - 250 miles range to this point, and putting about 10 or so galls each time.
Theoretically this leaves about 3 galls in the tank but I've never pushed my luck trying to find out.
If you need to 'bend the coathanger', this could be a good benchmark to go for
fenderbender said:
"Know your limits, son" was what my old gran used to say whenever I fell over, off or out of something as a kid. I now have further good reason to heed her advice.
Picture the scene: I've made good progress from the ferry, have left the autoroute behind and am enjoying some twisty twin-lane blacktop for a few miles. Its a fabulous hot day in rural France and I'm on my own with the roof down. Fuel gauge shows 1/4 full so I make a mental note to stop at the next filling station.
Me? I'm having fun - taking bends hard in third and gassing the engine very slightly on the over-run to produce that popping from the tailpipes which so alarms the natives.
After about another mile the Chim starts to splutter in fifth so I have to change down a notch to maintain progress. This has happened before and I have always explained it to myself that at the bottom of the tank there is probably some crappy fuel - maybe even some dead pigeons - so better to nurse the motor along until I can cram it full of 98RON. Then the impossible happened - the motor barked once and died. I was comprehensively out of fuel.
Can you imagine the language? The initial "@sg
zx@!" alone scared the crows from their nests within a mile radius. I had to hike for 5 miles in the blazing sun (you've seen that film "Ice Cold in Alex"? ) before I found a filling station and could call a taxi to take me back.
Now if I had known the lower limit of my fuel gauge was a full 1/4 inches up from the "empty" zone I would not have spoiled what was otherwise such a great experience. Or on the other hand if I had carried a spare fuel can... or... or.
Gran, you were right. The rest of you be warned!!
The EXACT same thing happened to me 2 months ago in Belgium.Picture the scene: I've made good progress from the ferry, have left the autoroute behind and am enjoying some twisty twin-lane blacktop for a few miles. Its a fabulous hot day in rural France and I'm on my own with the roof down. Fuel gauge shows 1/4 full so I make a mental note to stop at the next filling station.
Me? I'm having fun - taking bends hard in third and gassing the engine very slightly on the over-run to produce that popping from the tailpipes which so alarms the natives.

After about another mile the Chim starts to splutter in fifth so I have to change down a notch to maintain progress. This has happened before and I have always explained it to myself that at the bottom of the tank there is probably some crappy fuel - maybe even some dead pigeons - so better to nurse the motor along until I can cram it full of 98RON. Then the impossible happened - the motor barked once and died. I was comprehensively out of fuel.
Can you imagine the language? The initial "@sg
zx@!" alone scared the crows from their nests within a mile radius. I had to hike for 5 miles in the blazing sun (you've seen that film "Ice Cold in Alex"? ) before I found a filling station and could call a taxi to take me back. Now if I had known the lower limit of my fuel gauge was a full 1/4 inches up from the "empty" zone I would not have spoiled what was otherwise such a great experience. Or on the other hand if I had carried a spare fuel can... or... or.
Gran, you were right. The rest of you be warned!!
I now fill up when the fuel gauge says last 1/4.
Gassing Station | Chimaera | Top of Page | What's New | My Stuff




