I had the idea to drive to the summit of Rano Kau late one night to stargaze. Floating in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, watching the stars was already wonderful, the sky thick with twinkling lights and satellite tracks. I thought it’d be even more enchanting at the summit of one of Easter Island’s three peaks.

It was a clear night and so considerably colder than I expected. Which became a concern when our four-wheel-drive Suzuki wouldn’t start. Already stuck on a scrap of rock thousands of miles from civilization, I was now stuck miles from its only real settlement. Wearing swim trunks. In the middle of the night.

I allowed myself a few minutes to quietly panic and imagine what kind of start to a travel-themed horror film this might be. Then I remembered something my mother taught me when I was 15: how to pop a clutch to start a car.

We turned the car to face the slight downgrade, and Jessica pushed as I hopped back in the driver’s seat. A few beats later, the truck roared to life. We drove back to the hotel with the heat on.

The next morning, the engine turned over on the first try.