Those pesky inaccurate gas gauges

I've ran out of gas before with lil blue. But with out much issue, as either I was close to home or was near a gas station and able to get off the road. I know enough to put gas in the tank before the needle hits 1/4 tank, because there is no 1/4 tank - she be dry. The first time we discovered how inaccurate the gauge was, we were in construction on the Red Deer River Bridge. Lead car on a single lane, down from 4 lanes so you can picture the bottleneck. Just as we were half way across the bridge, lil blue stalled... No warning gasp, no shake or shudder, just full of EMPTY. Now with all the luck in the world, there was enough momentum to get us across the bridge and over to a parking lot. Gas station just a block away, could this have worked out any better?? I think no.
So, note to self, 1/4 really means empty. That's cool, easy to remember, just keep your eye on the gauge and fill it up right? Wrong.

Groat Road - Edmonton Alberta. One of the coolest, windiest, narrowest roads in all of the city. This little trail of nightmare winds through the river valley and connects to St Albert Trail, so a very busy piece of infrastructure. If there is one road you don't want to break down on, its the Groat.

There's not much for shoulders, a few emergency pull outs if you can get to them, and for most people, there is no resisting the urge to speed as you wind your way through the river valley.
To my defense, I am not the driver, insert my significant other to this comedy of errors.
"Jode, there's something wrong with your van!" he exclaims as we instantly stall on the first curve. Panic sets in, we are about to die. Let the expletives fly, because we are dead in the middle of the road with no hope of getting out of the way. Cars are screeching, buses are careening to the edge of the guard rail and we are freaking out! No one is going to stop, how the hell are we going to get out of this mess? Hubbie limps the van over to the side, using the starter to advance the engine and literally hop forward up onto the curb. For what it was worth, it worked, getting us out of the way mostly, and giving us a chance to bail out of the van and call for help.
Now to get gas... 50 minutes 5 litres and $50 bucks later. We are back on the road, well sort of. All that hopping using the starter has knocked the timing right out. Van won't stay running, barely fires at best, burping and farting all the way out of the river valley. I am ballistic at this point. Get me the hell home!!!
We make the 2 hour journey home in silence, stressed to the max and wondering how much its going to cost to get this thing running tip top again. My blessing is my very mechanically inclined husband, who within not time had it purring like a kitten again. Did we fix the gauge? Nope. Did we learn our lesson? I sure hope so? I've got the hunt on for a spanky metal Jerry can this season. So this year, when you see me out of gas on the side of the road, stop in and say hi!