A true gas guzzler isn’t defined by bad mileage alone. It’s the result of deliberate engineering choices made in an era when fuel was cheap, performance sold cars, and efficiency was either secondary or an outright afterthought. Horsepower, mass, gearing, and regulatory context all collide to create machines that consume fuel at a rate that feels almost mythical today.
Power First, Efficiency Last
Big displacement is the most obvious culprit. Massive V8s and V10s with carburetors or early fuel injection were designed to make effortless torque, not sip fuel, and internal friction rises exponentially as displacement grows. Add aggressive cam profiles, low compression tolerances, and rich factory tuning, and these engines burned fuel constantly, even at idle. Many of these powerplants were happiest dumping raw gasoline just to stay cool and smooth under load.
Weight Is the Silent Killer
Curb weight matters as much as horsepower, and America built some truly heavy iron. Full-frame construction, thick-gauge steel, solid axles, and luxury interiors pushed many cars and trucks well past two and even three tons. Moving that mass requires energy every single time the throttle opens, especially in stop-and-go driving where inertia works against efficiency. The heavier the vehicle, the more fuel it takes just to exist on the road.
Gearing Built for Muscle, Not Mileage
Rear-end ratios tell a brutal truth about intent. Deep gearing like 3.73, 4.10, or even steeper was fantastic for quarter-mile launches, towing, or off-road work, but it forced engines to spin at high RPM on the highway. Overdrive transmissions were rare or nonexistent for decades, meaning many vehicles cruised at 3,000 RPM or more at 70 mph. High revs plus big displacement equals fuel disappearing at an alarming rate.
The EPA Reality Check Came Late
Before the mid-1970s, there was little regulatory pressure to care about fuel economy, and early EPA testing was both generous and inconsistent. Manufacturers chased performance numbers, comfort, and capability because that’s what buyers demanded. When emissions controls and fuel economy standards finally arrived, they often made things worse at first, strangling engines with primitive smog equipment while weight and gearing stayed the same. The result was some of the worst mileage figures ever officially recorded, cementing these vehicles’ reputations as legends of excess.
Pre-Emissions Excess: Big-Block Muscle and Luxury Giants of the 1960s
If the 1970s were about excess colliding with regulation, the 1960s were pure mechanical indulgence. This was the era before emissions controls, before fuel economy labels, and before anyone in Detroit worried about how many miles a gallon a car delivered. Engineers were given a simple brief: more power, more smoothness, more presence, and fuel consumption was an afterthought at best.
What followed were some of the most voracious internal combustion machines ever sold to the public. Big-block V8s ruled, curb weights ballooned, and carburetors were calibrated rich to ensure drivability under all conditions. These cars didn’t just burn fuel under acceleration; they drank it constantly, even at steady cruise.
Big Cubes, Low Efficiency, No Apologies
Displacement was the primary solution to every performance and refinement challenge. Chevrolet’s 427, Chrysler’s 440, Ford’s 428, and Cadillac’s massive 472 V8s produced effortless torque, but their sheer internal mass created enormous pumping and frictional losses. With long strokes, large bores, and heavy rotating assemblies, these engines consumed fuel simply to keep themselves spinning.
Compression ratios were high by modern standards, often exceeding 10.5:1, but combustion efficiency was crude. Carburetors lacked precision, ignition timing was conservative to prevent detonation, and fuel atomization was uneven across cylinders. The result was incomplete combustion and constant enrichment, especially during cold starts and part-throttle operation.
Muscle Cars Built for the Quarter Mile, Not the Commute
Classic muscle cars of the late 1960s are often romanticized, but many were shockingly inefficient even by the standards of their day. A 1969 Dodge Charger R/T with a 440 Magnum or a Chevrolet Chevelle SS 427 could struggle to crack double-digit MPG in real-world driving. Aggressive camshafts killed low-speed efficiency, while deep rear gears kept RPM high at all times.
Four-speed manuals and three-speed automatics lacked overdrive, meaning highway cruising often happened well above the engine’s most efficient range. These cars were designed to dominate stoplight sprints and drag strips, not interstate road trips. Every design choice favored acceleration and sound over conservation.
Luxury Giants That Consumed Fuel Through Refinement
If muscle cars wasted fuel through aggression, luxury cars did it through mass and smoothness. Cadillac, Lincoln, and Imperial sedans of the 1960s routinely weighed over 4,500 pounds, with some pushing past 5,000. Their big-block V8s were tuned for silence and torque, not efficiency, often idling at rich mixtures to maintain smooth operation.
Power accessories, hydraulic systems, and early automatic climate control added parasitic loads that further taxed the engine. A 1968 Cadillac Fleetwood or Lincoln Continental could return single-digit fuel economy in city driving, all while isolating the driver from any sense of mechanical strain. The fuel gauge, however, told a different story.
Engineering Priorities Shaped by Culture
These gas guzzlers weren’t accidents; they were reflections of American priorities. Fuel was cheap, highways were expanding, and buyers equated size and power with success. Detroit responded by building cars that felt unstoppable, even if they were wildly inefficient by any objective measure.
In the pre-emissions era, there was no incentive to optimize airflow, reduce weight, or lean out mixtures. Performance and prestige sold cars, and gasoline was simply the cost of admission. The result was a generation of vehicles that defined excess, setting a high-water mark for fuel consumption that still hasn’t been matched.
The Malaise Era Monsters: Smog Controls, Carburetors, and Single-Digit MPG in the 1970s
As the muscle car era collapsed under emissions laws and fuel crises, America didn’t suddenly learn restraint. Instead, inefficiency took on a new and arguably worse form. Power dropped, weight stayed high, and fuel economy somehow got even uglier.
This was the Malaise Era, where engineering compromises piled on top of outdated architecture. The result was a generation of cars and trucks that burned fuel at an astonishing rate while delivering far less performance than their predecessors.
Smog Controls Before Computers Made Everything Worse
Early emissions regulations hit fast and hard, and Detroit wasn’t ready. Carburetors were hastily recalibrated to run lean, ignition timing was retarded, and exhaust gas recirculation systems were bolted on with little integration. Engines ran hotter, dirtier internally, and far less efficiently.
Catalytic converters arrived mid-decade, but without precise fuel control, they forced even richer mixtures to prevent overheating. The irony was brutal: engines made less power, yet consumed nearly as much fuel as before. In real-world driving, many full-size V8 cars struggled to reach 10 MPG under any conditions.
Big Cubic Inches, Choked Breathing
Displacement remained massive, but airflow was strangled. Take Cadillac’s 500-cubic-inch V8, still offered in the mid-1970s and now rated at barely 190 net horsepower. Smog pumps, restrictive exhausts, low-lift camshafts, and tiny carburetor venturis turned once-mighty engines into asthmatic torque generators.
Despite the power loss, these engines were still tasked with moving 5,000-pound cars loaded with sound deadening, steel bumpers, and luxury hardware. A 1975 Cadillac Fleetwood or Lincoln Continental Mark IV could easily dip into single-digit MPG around town. The fuel burn was relentless, and the performance payoff was gone.
Weight Gain, Gear Ratios, and the Absence of Overdrive
Federal safety standards added even more mass. Five-mile-per-hour bumpers, reinforced doors, and thicker frames pushed curb weights higher every year. Yet transmissions remained stubbornly outdated, with three-speed automatics and no overdrive in sight.
Rear axle ratios were often numerically high to compensate for smothered engines, keeping RPM elevated at highway speeds. At 70 mph, many Malaise-era sedans spun well above 3,000 rpm, right in the middle of their least efficient operating range. Long-distance cruising became an exercise in watching the fuel gauge fall.
Trucks, Wagons, and the Forgotten Guzzlers
While luxury sedans get most of the blame, full-size trucks and wagons were just as bad, if not worse. A 1977 Ford F-250 with a 460 V8 or a Chevrolet Suburban with a 454 could return 6 to 8 MPG on a good day. These vehicles combined enormous frontal area, crude aerodynamics, and carbureted big-blocks with zero concern for efficiency.
Station wagons like the Chrysler Town & Country or Oldsmobile Custom Cruiser weren’t far behind. Designed to haul families with the thirst of a work truck, they embodied the era’s contradiction: downsized performance paired with upsized consumption. In trying to comply with the times, Detroit created some of the most wasteful vehicles ever to wear American badges.
Full-Size Luxury Barges Gone Wild: When Comfort and Cubic Inches Ruled
If trucks and wagons were unapologetic about their thirst, America’s full-size luxury cars wore it like a tailored suit. These were machines engineered around silence, isolation, and effortless motion, not efficiency. When fuel was cheap and displacement was king, Detroit’s luxury divisions answered every refinement problem with more steel, more insulation, and more cubic inches.
The result was a class of rolling monuments that could drain a fuel tank with shocking speed, even by the standards of their time. Weight, gearing, and engine tuning combined into a perfect storm of consumption, especially once emissions controls arrived and power fell off a cliff.
Cadillac Fleetwood and DeVille: 500 Cubic Inches of Momentum
No discussion of luxury gas guzzlers starts anywhere but Cadillac. The Fleetwood and DeVille of the late 1960s and early 1970s routinely tipped the scales at 5,200 pounds, powered by engines as large as 500 cubic inches. Even before emissions strangulation, these cars were lucky to see 10 MPG in mixed driving.
After 1971, compression dropped, cam timing softened, and carburetion became ultra-conservative. The engines still made prodigious torque, but they had to work constantly to keep that mass moving. Add tall frontal area and brick-like aerodynamics, and fuel economy collapsed into the single digits around town.
Lincoln Continental and Mark Series: Personal Luxury, Industrial Appetite
Lincoln took a slightly different approach but landed at the same gas pump. The Continental and Mark III through Mark V emphasized isolation and straight-line stability, using massive unibody structures and big-block 460 V8s. A fully optioned Mark IV could weigh as much as a half-ton pickup.
These cars often ran high numerical axle ratios to mask emissions-era power loss, which meant elevated RPM at cruising speeds. At highway velocity, the engine wasn’t loafing; it was drinking. Owners paid for that whisper-quiet ride with fuel consumption that rivaled contemporary motorhomes.
Imperial Excess: Chrysler’s Last Stand at the Top
Chrysler’s Imperial deserves special mention as one of the most overlooked guzzlers of the era. Riding on its own massive platform, the Imperial combined thick glass, heavy-gauge steel, and torsion-bar suspension with a 440-cubic-inch V8. It was engineered to feel indestructible, and it mostly succeeded.
What it never pretended to be was efficient. The Imperial’s weight and conservative tuning meant constant throttle input, especially in urban driving. Fuel economy in the 7 to 9 MPG range was common, making it one of the thirstiest luxury sedans ever sold to the public.
Why Luxury Made the Problem Worse
Luxury cars amplified every inefficiency of the era. Sound deadening, power accessories, climate control systems, and reinforced structures added hundreds of pounds compared to mainstream sedans. These vehicles also used softer suspension tuning, which increased rolling resistance and reduced mechanical efficiency.
Critically, luxury buyers demanded smoothness above all else. Engineers tuned engines to avoid sharp throttle response or aggressive cam profiles, sacrificing thermal efficiency for refinement. The cars felt effortless, but that effortlessness came from burning enormous quantities of fuel to avoid making the driver aware of what the engine was doing.
Status Symbols at the End of the Cheap Fuel Era
Culturally, these luxury barges represented success, stability, and American abundance. Owning a Fleetwood or Continental was a statement that fuel cost simply didn’t matter. That attitude persisted even as gas lines formed and federal regulations tightened.
By the time downsizing arrived at the end of the 1970s, the damage was done. These cars had cemented a reputation not just for excess, but for some of the worst real-world fuel consumption ever recorded in passenger vehicles. They were masterpieces of comfort, built at the exact moment when comfort and efficiency were fundamentally at odds.
Truck and SUV Titans: V8s, V10s, and the Rise of Family-Sized Fuel Consumption
As luxury sedans hit the limits of excess, America’s appetite simply shifted upward and outward. Trucks and SUVs inherited the same philosophy of mass, power, and comfort, but with even worse aerodynamic and mechanical penalties. What had once been work tools became family vehicles, and fuel consumption rose accordingly.
The Suburban Effect: When Utility Met Unlimited Displacement
Few vehicles symbolize this transition better than the Chevrolet Suburban. By the 1990s, buyers could spec it with a 454-cubic-inch big-block V8, an engine originally designed for heavy-duty trucks and marine use. Moving over three tons with a brick-like frontal area, real-world fuel economy often dipped into the 6 to 8 MPG range.
The inefficiency wasn’t just weight. Solid rear axles, low-revving pushrod engines, and four-speed automatic transmissions with wide gear spacing meant the engine lived in inefficient operating zones. The Suburban didn’t sprint or corner, but it burned fuel constantly, especially in stop-and-go driving.
Ford Excursion and the V10 Era
Ford escalated the arms race with the Excursion, the largest SUV ever sold to the public. Its available 6.8-liter Triton V10 was smooth and durable, but thermodynamically outdated even when new. With three rows of seating, body-on-frame construction, and near-commercial curb weight, it consumed fuel like a medium-duty truck.
Single-digit MPG was the norm, not the exception. The V10’s long intake runners and conservative cam timing favored low-end torque over efficiency, while emissions-era calibrations ran rich under load. It was engineered to tow anything, anytime, at the expense of fuel economy that bordered on shocking.
Hummer: Military Roots, Civilian Consequences
The civilian Hummer H1 brought military hardware straight to suburban driveways. Portal axles, full-time four-wheel drive, and massive rolling stock created immense parasitic losses before the engine ever moved the vehicle forward. Early models with the 6.2-liter and later 6.5-liter diesel V8s still struggled to exceed 10 MPG.
The H2, though more civilized, wasn’t much better. Based on a heavy-duty truck platform and powered by a 6.0-liter V8, it combined poor aerodynamics with luxury-grade weight. The result was a vehicle that looked indestructible and drank fuel accordingly, even when driven gently.
Performance Trucks: Power Without Restraint
Some manufacturers abandoned any pretense of efficiency entirely. The Dodge Ram SRT-10 stuffed an 8.3-liter Viper V10 into a full-size pickup, creating a 500-horsepower statement piece. With no cylinder deactivation, tall gearing, and massive rotating assemblies, fuel economy often fell into the 5 to 7 MPG range.
This wasn’t accidental. Buyers wanted spectacle, sound, and straight-line dominance, not restraint. These trucks proved that when performance engineering meets truck mass, fuel consumption becomes almost irrelevant to the design brief.
Why SUVs Became Worse Than Sedans Ever Were
Trucks and SUVs compounded every flaw of earlier luxury cars. Higher ride heights increased aerodynamic drag exponentially at highway speeds. Four-wheel-drive systems added rotating mass and frictional losses, while larger tires increased rolling resistance.
Culturally, these vehicles represented safety, capability, and modern American success. Families accepted fuel costs as the price of space and security, just as earlier buyers had accepted it for comfort and prestige. By the early 2000s, gas guzzling wasn’t a flaw, it was an expected side effect of owning the biggest thing on the road.
Extreme Performance Over Efficiency: Supercharged, V10, and Viper-Level Indulgence
As trucks and SUVs normalized excess, American performance cars pushed indulgence even further. Here, fuel economy wasn’t compromised by mass alone, but by engines designed to deliver maximum output per combustion event, regardless of consumption. These were machines engineered around power density, airflow, and mechanical drama, not miles per gallon.
This era proved that inefficiency could be intentional. Superchargers, massive displacements, and race-bred architectures made fuel burn a byproduct of ambition rather than a side effect of poor design.
Dodge Viper: Raw Displacement as a Design Philosophy
The Dodge Viper remains one of the most unapologetic expressions of American excess. Its 8.0-liter, later 8.3- and 8.4-liter V10 was conceived with truck-derived architecture and refined only enough to survive track abuse. With no cylinder deactivation, no forced induction efficiency tricks, and minimal sound insulation, every throttle input dumped fuel directly into forward motion.
EPA ratings in the low teens were optimistic at best. The Viper’s massive pistons, aggressive cam profiles, and rich air-fuel ratios under load ensured spectacular performance at the cost of relentless consumption. This wasn’t negligence; it was the price of building a road-legal race car during an era when emissions compliance mattered more than efficiency.
Supercharged Muscle: Hellcat and Shelby Excess
Modern muscle cars found new ways to waste fuel with precision. Dodge’s Hellcat lineup used a 6.2-liter supercharged HEMI pushing well over 700 horsepower, relying on boost pressure rather than displacement alone. The supercharger demanded fuel constantly, even at part throttle, as parasitic losses and enrichment strategies kept combustion safe under extreme cylinder pressures.
Ford’s Shelby GT500 followed a similar path. Its supercharged 5.2-liter V8 produced astronomical output, but required aggressive cooling, rich mixtures, and wide tires that punished rolling resistance. These cars could cruise quietly, but the moment boost built, fuel economy collapsed into single digits, revealing their true nature.
Why Forced Induction Didn’t Save Fuel
In theory, forced induction can improve efficiency by allowing smaller engines to make big power. In practice, American performance cars used supercharging to amplify already large engines. The result was extreme thermal load, increased friction, and fuel mapping biased toward engine safety rather than economy.
Unlike modern turbocharged systems optimized for efficiency, these superchargers were designed for instant torque and emotional impact. Throttle response mattered more than fuel burn, and buyers gladly accepted 10 MPG or worse for the privilege of effortless acceleration.
Exotic Americans: When Aerodynamics Couldn’t Offset Appetite
Even America’s limited-production exotics weren’t immune. The Ford GT’s supercharged V8 combined race-derived aerodynamics with immense power, but highway efficiency was still compromised by gearing, cooling demands, and enrichment under load. Despite its sleek shape, real-world fuel economy often lagged behind expectations.
These cars highlighted a recurring truth. When engineering priorities focus on lap times, horsepower figures, and thermal endurance, efficiency becomes secondary. In every case, fuel consumption told the story of what mattered most to the engineers and the buyers who demanded nothing less.
Why These Vehicles Were So Inefficient: Engineering Trade-Offs and Regulatory Gaps
The common thread tying America’s worst gas guzzlers together wasn’t incompetence. It was intent. These vehicles were engineered to dominate drag strips, haul obscene loads, or project cultural authority, and fuel efficiency was simply collateral damage in the pursuit of power, size, and durability.
Displacement First, Efficiency Later
For decades, American powertrain philosophy revolved around displacement as the most reliable path to torque. Big-block V8s like the 454, 460, and 500 cubic-inch monsters delivered effortless thrust, but their massive reciprocating assemblies created enormous frictional losses. Even at idle, these engines consumed fuel at rates modern powertrains would only see under heavy load.
Cylinder head design and combustion efficiency lagged behind. Two-valve layouts, low compression ratios for pump gas safety, and crude spark control meant incomplete combustion was common. Fuel simply wasn’t burned efficiently, especially during part-throttle cruising where these vehicles spent most of their time.
Weight, Aerodynamics, and the Physics They Couldn’t Escape
Vehicle mass was another unavoidable penalty. Full-size sedans, luxury coupes, and body-on-frame SUVs routinely tipped the scales well north of 4,500 pounds, with some pushing past 6,000. Accelerating that mass required constant energy input, and every stoplight reset the fuel consumption equation.
Aerodynamics only made matters worse. Boxy trucks, slab-sided sedans, and upright SUVs carried drag coefficients that would horrify modern engineers. At highway speeds, engines weren’t just overcoming inertia; they were fighting a wall of air with gearing optimized for smoothness, not efficiency.
Carburetors, Crude Controls, and Pre-Digital Limitations
Before electronic fuel injection became widespread in the late 1980s and 1990s, carburetors ruled. They were inherently imprecise, relying on vacuum signals and mechanical circuits that couldn’t adapt dynamically to temperature, altitude, or load. To avoid lean conditions that could damage engines, manufacturers tuned them rich across much of the operating range.
Ignition timing was equally blunt. Mechanical and vacuum advance systems lacked the resolution to optimize combustion event by event. The result was conservative timing curves that protected engines but wasted fuel, especially during steady-state cruising where modern engines excel.
Regulatory Gaps and Loopholes That Encouraged Excess
Fuel economy regulations existed, but enforcement and scope were limited. Early Corporate Average Fuel Economy standards were lenient, and trucks, SUVs, and heavy vehicles were given wide exemptions. This allowed manufacturers to sidestep efficiency targets by classifying vehicles as workhorses, even when they were marketed as family transport.
Emissions regulations also shaped inefficiency in unexpected ways. Early smog controls choked airflow and reduced power, prompting manufacturers to increase displacement just to regain lost performance. The fix for emissions compliance often came at the expense of fuel economy, especially during the 1970s and early 1980s.
Durability Over Optimization
These vehicles were engineered to survive abuse. Heavy-duty transmissions, low-stress engine tuning, and conservative cooling strategies prioritized longevity over efficiency. Rich air-fuel mixtures helped keep exhaust gas temperatures down, protecting valves, pistons, and catalytic converters, but they guaranteed high fuel consumption.
In trucks and SUVs especially, gearing was selected to tow, climb, and haul under worst-case scenarios. That meant high engine speeds at highway cruising, locking in poor MPG even when the vehicle was lightly loaded.
Cultural Expectations That Rewarded Excess
Finally, inefficiency was culturally acceptable, even desirable. Big engines signaled success, freedom, and American identity. Fuel was cheap, highways were expanding, and buyers equated MPG with compromise rather than intelligence.
Manufacturers responded accordingly. These vehicles were not accidents of engineering; they were deliberate expressions of what American drivers wanted at the time. The fuel gauge dropping quickly wasn’t a flaw. It was proof that the machine was doing exactly what it was built to do.
Cultural Legacy of America’s Biggest Gas Guzzlers: Icons of Power in a Changing World
The same cultural forces that excused inefficiency also immortalized it. America’s biggest gas guzzlers became rolling statements of intent, machines that valued presence and power over restraint. They were not built to sip fuel or chase numbers on a window sticker. They were built to dominate highways, job sites, drag strips, and drive-in parking lots.
Power as Identity
For decades, engine size was a shortcut to credibility. A 7.4-liter big-block, a V10 truck motor, or a carbureted V8 with a four-barrel intake told the world exactly who you were. Horsepower and torque were cultural currency, and fuel consumption was the price of admission.
Vehicles like full-size Cadillacs, Lincoln luxury barges, and big-block muscle cars weren’t just transportation. They were status symbols engineered to feel unstoppable, even if that meant single-digit MPG. In an era of cheap gas, excess wasn’t irresponsible. It was aspirational.
Trucks, SUVs, and the Rise of Maximum Mass
As American roads filled with pickups and SUVs, mass became a defining trait. Body-on-frame construction, solid rear axles, and oversized drivetrains were chosen for durability and capability, not efficiency. A three-quarter-ton truck with a V8 or V10 wasn’t supposed to commute efficiently; it was supposed to tow a trailer up a grade without breaking a sweat.
This philosophy produced legends and monsters alike. Think of early Ford Excursions, Dodge Ram V10s, and Suburbans with engines borrowed from commercial applications. These vehicles burned fuel at astonishing rates, but they also redefined what personal transportation could do.
Emissions Eras That Locked in Inefficiency
The irony is that many of the worst fuel consumers were born during attempts to clean up the air. Early emissions controls strangled engines, forcing manufacturers to increase displacement to recover lost power. The result was large engines running inefficiently, often with retarded timing, rich mixtures, and primitive fuel control.
This was the dark age of efficiency, but also a crucible for American engineering. Manufacturers learned how to make massive vehicles livable, reliable, and compliant, even if MPG suffered badly. These compromises became part of the vehicles’ identity.
Pop Culture, Motorsport, and Mythology
Gas guzzlers didn’t just live on the road; they lived on screen and in competition. Muscle cars defined street racing mythology. Oversized trucks became symbols of independence and self-reliance. NASCAR’s carbureted V8s and drag racing’s big-cube engines reinforced the idea that burning fuel was inseparable from making power.
These machines shaped how Americans thought cars should feel. Throttle response, exhaust note, and effortless acceleration mattered more than efficiency metrics. Even today, modern performance cars chase the emotional experience these gas guzzlers perfected.
Reckoning and Reinterpretation
As fuel prices rose and electrification took hold, the narrative shifted. What was once celebrated became scrutinized. Yet these vehicles were never erased from history; they were reframed. Today, they’re collected, restored, and admired as artifacts of a different mindset.
Modern engineering can now outperform them while using a fraction of the fuel, but it cannot replicate their raw honesty. There is no algorithm behind a carbureted big-block or a naturally aspirated V10 pulling at full load. What you feel is exactly what it is.
Final Verdict: Excess with Purpose
America’s biggest gas guzzlers were not engineering failures. They were precise answers to the demands of their time, shaped by culture, regulation, and consumer desire. Their inefficiency was the byproduct of prioritizing strength, simplicity, and power above all else.
In a world moving toward optimization and electrification, these vehicles stand as mechanical monuments. They remind us that automotive history isn’t just about progress. It’s about understanding why excess once made perfect sense, and why its legacy still resonates every time a big engine fires to life.
