I always find inspiration in the ditch.
#1. Ran out of gas in my little pickup within sight of a service station. Grabbed the Jerry can out of the back and hitched to the station. Upon my return, having put some gas in the tank, found the doors locked and the keys dangling in the ignition. Walked up and down the ditch and found a Coke can. Cut it up with my Leatherperson and made a slim jim. Problem solved.
#2. 1974, Moving to Whitehorse, pulling a trailer with most of our worldly goods in it. The spring hanger on the trailer pulled right out of the frame halfway down Steamboat Mountain on the Alaska Highway. The damn frame was so rusty it was like cheese. I didn't have many tools then, and what I did have were odd sized, collected from here and there as needed. A weird collection is how you'd describe it.
Into the ditch, deep in thought, and some degree of depression. Aha! A bolt. And another one! Hmm. Rummage for nuts. Yes! Remembering the cheese like frame. Aha again! The remains of some channel steel, directional sign mounting for the use of! These sign posts are channels with flanges on either side, and perforated every couple of inches with a half-inch hole. Back to the weird toolbox. Or toolbox of the weird. Two drills bits of unknown size that "looked about right". No means of driving them. OK there's already a hole in the cheese. Ream it out with the smaller bit and vise grips. Aha! a tap. What size is that? big enough. Run that through. Then the bigger bit. Perfect! Position the spring hanger, position the hacksawed piece of sign post and CLAMP the hanger to the cheesy frame.
Lasted 500 miles into Whitehorse. Can't remember what I did with the feckin trailer. I haven't been sued, so I guess I told the next guy about the bodge. At least I hope so.