1,067 miles (12.9 gallons @ $3.039)
So I had forgotten how much filling a car with diesel reminds me of squirting WD-40 in a confined space. Luckily, I find the smell of WD-40 quite nice for brief periods. It reminds me of being sixteen and driving to Sugarbush, and of riding with my father to Dartmouth on a school vacation day for a day of screwing around on the pre-internet networked Macs.
The Hess station in Allston doesn't have the self-pay mechanism on the pump, so I had to go inside and wait twice in line to pay. The pump is one of those old school varieties with no vapor collection meta-nozzle around the nozzle, and when the tank was almost full it made a scary diesel-about-to-splash-all-over-your-clothes noise. I second guessed myself about having stopped too early and had vague thoughts that I have become a suburban pantywaist as regards filling vehicles with diesel fuel, but this tank consisted mostly of highway driving, and seems genuinely to have averaged over 40 miles a gallon: the gauge readsĀ Full. The mileage would have been quite a bit higher had I driven more slowly, or not up and down the mountains of I-89.
We learned that an adult and two car seats can fit in the back, albeit tightly. (Why in the hell are cars made in such a way that children under 12 are somehow unsafe riding in them?) We also learned that our combined eight years of post-graduate education is insufficient for using the media system for anything but the most basic listening; putting a CD in is completely out of the question while driving. Alas.