91 RON Minimum
So I'm told that 95 RON is the same as 87 Octane in the United States. It does say "minimum" in the manual, so I suppose a little higher won't hurt. I guess I will use the medium mostly and occasionally the high octane at gas stations. Keep those tanks filled up! I almost ran out of gas last weekend out in the woods near the Molalla River. That would have been tragic leaving my Bonnie out there in the wilderness while I had to hoof it back to civilization for some gas. Would my dark lady have been there when I returned? Doubtful. Luckily, I coasted Black Bonnie on fumes and prayers from the middle of nowhere to a gas station called "Toad." How is that for weird. Toad. That's the name of it. For real. Saved by the toad. Only in a town called Mo La La, otherwise known as Molel in the ancient indian dialect. Spooky place up there, to be sure. Great for a bike ride, though. Except, the main bridge is out, and that is what spelled disaster for me, after I entered the Corridor through the back door, when I was planning on coasting down some of the most scenic pavement in Oregon, past the Mo La La on Black Bonnie with her Cowl on, which was little more than a few royal miles to town on a road with plenty of quaint farm houses and not so quaint double wides. But instead, with said bridge out and the gaping Maw of Mollala hissing up at me like dragon's laughter in the dark, I had to backtrack leagues upon leagues, journeying through the blasphemous hinterlands with only ravens, wild cats, and wolves to keep me company, plus a few rougher denizens than never show themselves unless they want your soul served up on a wooden dinner plate. Now that was a sobering moment to be sure and gasoline was the thing I lacked. At that point, I would have paid $100 a gallon. Thankfully, I did not have to, and I could not have done so even if I'd wanted, because I passed no one living until I reached the moss-ridden asphalt of Old Highway, and that was a mere hop skip and a jump from The Toad, which greeted us from a motley marque. Bonnie was quite thirsty under the blindingly white florescent lights, and she drank at Ye Olde Petroleum Well to her heart's content.