Sometimes being a Pistonhead isn’t that wonderful. I’ve spent the last 24 hours securing or moving fourteen cherished automobiles to higher ground before Hurricane Ike hits the city of Houston. Its been crazy: one dead battery with an even deader alternator, a bleeding heater core and several trips to an elevated parking garage. By Thursday night, I had a (poorly chosen) escape pod for my evacuation: a 1972 Continental Mark IV. But, after a months-long slumber, I fired up the triple-black beauty and it instantly idled like a new car. Too bad I didn’t plan on the Mark’s quarter tank of gas. Or an eighth, depending on how cranky the gauge acted when you came to a stop. I waited in feed lines with SUVs, compacts, pickups and crossovers only to have pumps run dry, which was more than a little terrifying given the big Lincoln’s OPEC-inspired heyday. Can I make it to the suburbs on congested roads, in a 7.5 liter Lincoln that gets 9 MPG on a good day? Thankfully, there was no traffic this morning, so I gently wafted to safer territory on the Mark IV’s reassuring haunches. It was a throughly relaxing ride. And now I’m ready for this damn storm.