Just outside Brimley in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula along Lake Superior on Whitefish Bay, our dashboard lit up like a Christmas tree. “Reserve fuel warning. Find a gas station now. You idiot.” All true, except for that last part. My words for me. We were below a quarter tank of fuel, which triggers something in the engine system and causes the reserve warning light to appear. Driving north to the UP, as it’s known by locals (“Yoopers”) and down staters (“Trolls”) like us, who live all points south of the Mackinac Bridge, we had spent the last six hours on the road. Until now, it was a happily uneventful Monday. We…