I just leased an electric car — and it’s keeping me up at night
I used to joke that I was a lousy candidate for electric car ownership.
“I’d probably forget to plug it in,” I’d say, secretly thinking that not even I could do something so idiotic.
So, all hyped up on over-confidence, when I needed to replace my worn-out hybrid I went all the way and traded it in on an EV.
Guess what happened.
Three weeks into a three-year lease on a Chevy Bolt, I not only forgot to plug the sucker in overnight, I didn’t even bother pulling it into the garage ... and barely had enough juice to make it to and from work the next day.
Apparently, I am an idiot when it comes to electric cars, but between frequent trips back to the dealership for “tutorials,” advice from fellow EV drivers and waking up in the middle of the night to read the owner’s manual conveniently parked on my bedside table, I am slowly learning to embrace the electric car.
It’s all about the range
When I signed the lease, I didn’t truly appreciate the meaning of the word “range.” I figured a 230-mile range means you can actually drive 230 miles on a full charge.
Theoretically, you can — but not if you want to turn on the heater or the air conditioner, defrost the windshield, or drive over 50 mph hour on the freeway.
Any little thing you do to increase creature comforts during a long trip winds up reducing your range. For example, you can run the heater and risk running out of juice on some lonely highway — or you can freeze your ears off and arrive safely at your destination.
Even then, on long journeys you’ll need to stop along the way to charge.
There are all kinds of apps and maps telling you where charging stations are located. Don’t trust them.
For one, they rarely say exactly where the chargers are placed, which means you can waste miles and miles driving around huge mall parking lots hunting for three or four chargers in a sea of asphalt. (Note to mall owners: Some directional signs would help a lot.)
When you finally locate the bank of chargers, you may discover they aren’t working, or they’re already occupied, or they are so S-L-O-W you’ll spend three hours killing time to gain maybe 30 or 40 miles. Under those circumstances, a three-hour drive from SLO to LA can wind up taking six hours, so bring a book or maybe a crossword puzzle.
Mind you, car dealers rarely mention these inconveniences. They tell you that, with a little pre-planning, long trips are no trouble at all. So not true!
But hey, there’s always a learning curve when you buy a new vehicle, right? That goes triple for EVs.
Welcome to the cult!
One of the first lessons to learn (after you figure out that whole range thing) is this: When you purchase an EV, you aren’t just buying a car. You are joining a cult.
How could it be otherwise?
Only 5.5 percent of vehicles sold in California are all-electric, so it’s natural that EV owners would feel some sort of connection ... even if it’s just to brag about how much money they’re saving on gas or, in the case of real zealots, how EVs have changed their lives.
Like all cults, this one has its own language: “Range anxiety,” is that sick feeling you get when the warning light turns on, instructing you to “charge vehicle soon” and you’re still 26 miles away from home.
Getting ICEd doesn’t mean you’ve stopped for a cold drink. It means you’ve been unable to charge at a public station because some rude driver of a gas-guzzling non-EV had the nerve to park in the last open bay. According to the internet (which is always 100% accurate, right?) some non-EV drivers purposely park in EV spaces because they have some weird grudge against electric car owners.
Seriously? As if a bunch of geeks who obsess over how to eke out a few extra miles by coasting downhill is threatening the American way of life.
Like any good cult, this one has its secrets: Locations of tucked-away charging stations used mostly by locals, or warnings about stations you should bypass completely, like the one behind the Food Court at the Camarillo outlet mall.
On the plus side, there are perks: Prime spaces at Target! Free charging at Whole Foods! The ability to feel just a little bit smug when your Prius-driving neighbor brags about getting 51 mpg!
And that stuff about reducing your carbon footprint and never having to stop at a gas station again (unless it’s to use the restrooms)? It’s all true!
But here comes the downside: Unless you are extremely disciplined, what you save on gas you will likely spend on the “bargains” you find while waiting for your car to charge at the Camarillo outlet mall. (Or wherever else your travels may take you.)
But, hey, that’s a small price to pay for saving the planet, right?
And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an owner’s manual to read.
This story was originally published January 23, 2020 at 12:34 PM.
