I used to have a beetle with a radio that would not shut off when the car was turned off. It ran my battery down after about 10 hours of Atlantic Salmon fishing on a North Shore Gaspe River. I was by myself. So, I pushed the car uphill a ways, got a good running jump, popped the clutch (yes, I had remembered to turn the key on). It started up and before I could say "the stupid thing's not charged up yet", I turned it off. Click, tdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtdtd, hissed the starter. Back up the hill again and I'm still by myself. This time, during my running jump, my passenger tire found the soft sand along the shoulder and the car veered to the right down an incline towards a 120 foot cliff. I desparetly tried to hold the rumbling car back but after ten feet of bumper skiing with heel tracks, I let go. Au revoir and look out below I yelled as the car made its way towards the cliff, bullying black spruce and their six inch deep root systems. One tree, a mighty 6 incher, growing at a 45 degree angle was all that stood between my beetle and the bridge pool. It held, although I could probably push it over from the side. I waived down a trucker and we hoisted it out of the woods with chains. We jumped the battery I drove it back down the road toward Sept-Isles. No fish, but a little wiser.