We were south of Chicago on I-80, in triple-digit temperatures and bumper-to-bumper traffic, when my fuel-injected 1977 Volkswagen Scirocco sputtered, coughed, and then died in the center lane. The woman driving the big rig behind us rebuffed my request for a push to the shoulder, or at least assistance in blocking the right lane to get me there in one piece, with language that would have made a Paris Parris Island drill instructor blush. Halfway between our starting point in Colorado and our destination in New Jersey, we were stuck with a suddenly dead car by the side of the Interstate.

As I’d soon learn, fuel-injected Sciroccos with high mileage had a nasty habit of breaking down in high temps, thanks to a sticky mechanical air mass sensor plate. After a side trip through Gary, Indiana (a tale worthy of a short novella), we made our way to a VW dealer in Merrillville, thanks to the help of a local tow truck driver (who also got us the “family rate” at a local motel). I may not have been prepared for that breakdown, but it taught me a valuable lesson: never be unprepared for such an event again.

That was 1984. Things are different today...