What else I saw 2

I drove for gas mileage.  So addled was I that I never managed to replace my non-functioning tire gauge.  For all I know, my fronts may be down in the mid-twenties.  If so, my 44mpg average is pretty decent.  [Just checked it at 38 left, 39 right.  Good retention for 8 months in all weather, and pretty close to optimal.  True optimal would be determined by taking tire tread temperature readings, across both profiles, from side-to-side, after coasting to a stop, after sustained highway driving.  I could have done this any day in 2 minutes as I got off in Warrenville, digital temperature probes make it a snap these days.  Like I said, a zombie]. 

I’ve got a fuel-flow issue, and often can’t restart warm if I’ve touched the accelerator with the engine off, so I didn’t dare shut off while coasting up to a long light.  I might have got to fifty if I could.  Mostly I upshifted as early as possible, and held my top speed to 55-58, and anticipated on surface streets.  As that philosopher and religious-programming host, D/ryl W/ltr/p—start your own blog and become aware of the kind of searches that cause visits, if you want to know why that was google-proofed—summarized it: “Stay out of the squirters and off the brakes if you want to save gas.” “The squirters” are the diaphragms, accelerator pumps, that squirt fuel into a carburetor, still used in NASCAR, to keep the car from hesitating when the throttle is opened quickly; the mechanism is different but the principle is the same with the throttle-body injectors most cars have today.  Holding speed under sixty made surprisingly little difference in the time it took get places.

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