My Long Tesla Test Drive
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly
Like most folks, I can’t stand Elon Musk. The last thing I want to do is put more money in his pockets.
But I also can’t stand shelling out $5.49 a gallon to the evil oil companies for regular gas here in Las Vegas. That’s $71 a tank every time I fill ‘er up.
Our daughter is thinking of selling her 2025 Tesla Model Y due to changes in her life circumstances. My wife and I have been toying with the idea of taking over the payments to help her (and us) out. But we know next to nothing about this particular breed of vehicle.
So, time for a test drive. But not just any test. A road trip through our neighboring state of Utah would provide just the right amount of topographical variations, weather conditions, and 80 mph speed limits. Plus, the breathtaking scenery found in an other-worldly supply of national parks as yet unplundered by the powers that be, as well as the fine eating establishments along the route.
My wife, a former travel agent way back when such jobs existed, gleefully planned our six-hundred-mile round trip, which took us through the steep Virgin River mountain gorge leading to St. George, the fifteen-minute 4,000-foot climb from Cedar City to Cedar Breaks–-which burns through a copious supply of battery — and hoodoo-laden Bryce Canyon National Park.
The Tesla, which boasts a 300-mile driving range, needs to be recharged regularly, especially on trips like this featuring significant elevation deviations and long stretches of remote highway. Fortunately, my wife armed us with a list of convenient charging stations providing Tesla Superchargers, the kind that refill the battery in less than forty minutes, instead of the run-of-the-mill Destination Chargers which can take five hours or more.
(Unfortunately, late one afternoon we got stuck in a tiny town with only the subpar chargers at our disposal, forcing us to endure hours of charging time. Lesson learned.)
Over the course of three days, we put the Tesla through its paces while reluctantly turning our backs on fifty years of driving experience (each). Our daughter had elected to go with the self-driving option for an additional hundred a month, so we activated it whenever practical. And sat back in wonder as the Tesla headed for the nearest available charging station like a horse returning to the barn.
But enough prelude. Here’s what we learned:
The Good
· The System — Forget the Jetsons’ flying car or Doc Brown’s Delorean. As they used to say at Disneyland’s GE Carousel of Progress, “It’s a great big beautiful tomorrow.” Nearly all functions are controlled through a sixteen-inch digital screen occupying the front center of the cabin. The self-driving feature comes with five settings, from fastest to slowest respectively: Mad Max, Hurry, Standard, Chill, and Sloth. Obviously, someone in engineering (not Elon) has a sense of humor. Because my wife is the proud owner of a lead foot, she leans toward the hyper-aggressive Mad Max, which is why she christened the car “Maxine.” Consequently, from this point on, I will refer to it as “she.” (Side note: according to our son-in-law the cop, you can’t talk yourself out of a speeding ticket by blaming the car.)
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· The Seats — The leather, ergonomically-correct seats have your back like a best friend. For the first time in many a day, we drove with zero pain.
· The Silence — Except for the times we chose to trigger the seven-speaker immersive sound system, the lack of engine noise made the ride as quiet as a library. Turns out the lack of a gas-guzzling engine is not only good for the environment (and our pocketbooks), it’s good for our mental health.
· The Speed — This model blasts from zero to sixty in 3.3 seconds (comparable to a Lamborghini Huracán), ideal for accelerating out of trouble. Or sometimes into it.
· The Service — No combustion engine means no lube and oil changes, spark plug replacements, fuel system cleaning, or transmission fluid flushes. And none of the costs that accompany them.
The Bad
· Changing Lanes — For our tastes, the self-driving program waits too long to change lanes, occasionally resulting in a missed turn. She also tends to hug the right-hand lane, often getting herself trapped behind a pokey vehicle.
· Confusion — There’s a poorly-designed freeway on-ramp near our home. Maxine has managed to miss it twice.
· Inclement Weather — The Y model performs poorly in rain; apparently her nine cameras cloud up. When she drove into a torrential downpour on our way back to Vegas, she freaked out, swung back and forth between lanes, stopped, started, and then flashed an urgent message on the screen instructing us to take over. We, at least, had the good sense to plant ourselves behind a big eighteen-wheeler with all its lights flashing.
· Parking Lots — For reasons unknown, Maxine experiences all kinds of trouble getting out of parking lots. One time she drove around and around for five minutes in search of an exit (even though it was right under her digital nose), forcing my wife to wrest back control.
- Styling — As generic as they come.
The Ugly
Elon. Inside and out.
The Outcome
My wife likes Maxine better than I do. And she’s learned how to adapt to her idiosyncrasies quicker. So, we’ll probably get the car.
Especially because she believes Maxine’s a better driver than I am.
