Tesla Roadtrip Chicago-Utah

A lighthearted complaint from a passenger during the early days of electric mobility in 2014.

Green River, Utah. Photo by © Author

In Christmas 2014, I received what I thought was the best gift ever from my wonderful husband: a Tesla, which I affectionately named ZERO (short for zero emissions). It was an amazing gift, and I’d never seen him so happy. He spent half of Christmas Eve in the car parked outside, with the touchscreen glowing through the window. The next morning, our neighbors confirmed just how impressive the bass system was.

For over two years, my husband has been obsessed with driving without a combustion engine. He insists that Tesla, particularly, is the epitome of high-end understatement. The fact that we could now contribute to saving the planet with zero emissions convinced me we needed this new car.

My husband knows Tesla owners from several states personally because he chats with them in forums. He knows the dimensions of their garages and the voltage of their outlets. Thanks to him, I know they’re all incredibly nice people.

He rented a Tesla Model S four times for test drives, eager to demonstrate this technical marvel to the family. It really is amazing. It runs entirely on battery and is as sleek as a driving Apple computer. It’s so fast that you’re pressed back into your seat, reminiscent of airplane travel.

Now, we only fly when absolutely necessary or when we can’t fit our luggage in the car, as that would consume too much battery.

There are six of us: two parents and four children. They fit comfortably in a Tesla as long as one isn’t over 5 feet tall. Our ZERO has two foldable seats in the trunk that face backward, and everyone is always amazed by that. If we don’t need them, we just fold them away, leaving plenty of room for luggage.

In our previous car, all six of us, plus a guest, could fit with luggage. But it was outrageously expensive on fuel, and we were polluting the air.

This winter, however, we’re driving to Utah for skiing, and we need space for luggage, so no one can sit in the back. It’s no problem since our kids are all too tall for the extra seats. So, our eldest son and our current guest flew ahead, taking our luggage with them. We don’t mind the extra baggage fees or flight costs since we’re practically traveling for free now.

That evening, he called us from the ski slope while we had just left Wisconsin after seven hours of driving. The beauty of a road trip is feeling just how vast this country is.

I was glad we’d already seen the sights along our route the previous year. Back then, we could just drive off the road and stop wherever there was something nice to see, like Mount Rushmore. That’s not possible with a Tesla yet because you have to drive straight from one Supercharger to the next. My husband says it’s only a matter of months before the country is fully covered with Superchargers. Until then, the big touchscreen in the cabin keeps us informed with all sorts of information about attractions and the topography of the land.

Just like in an airplane, the Tesla has the latest technology. You can learn endless things about the car and check out other models.

As we drove past the National Park in South Dakota, we could even listen to Joachim Schmitz-Forte on WDR 5. Photo by © Author

One of the best features is the heated steering wheel, and you can adjust each seat’s temperature in three different levels with just a fingertip.

We had a blast while charging at a Supercharger, and it was toasty warm. However, while on the road, you can only do that if the outside temperature is just right because heating otherwise consumes too much energy.

Winter is not the ideal time for a skiing trip. The Tesla is incredibly sensitive, and both cold and heat can zap half the battery in no time. So when it was -25°C in Colorado, we just turned off the heater and later the radio as well.

We could write messages in the frost on the inside of the windows with our fingers, as they were completely frozen over from the inside. My husband says it’s a chemical phenomenon because they were perfectly clear on the outside.

Sometimes, cars pass us and then slow down to marvel at the latest model on the market. That’s a great moment, and it makes us all feel warm. But most gas drivers quickly overtake us because we’re conserving battery, and with the frosted windows, they can’t see us anyway.

Once, one of us took a photo, and my kids shouted, “Step on it, Daddy!” My husband floored it, and we zoomed past everyone like a flash.

(A Tesla can smoke a Ferrari in a heartbeat. When I did that on my test drive, it earned me a $200 speeding ticket and three points on my license.) This time, there was no cop behind us, but we did run out of battery, and we had to figure out how to make it to the next Supercharger.

Superchargers are usually found in shopping mall parking lots. The white chargers look extremely chic, and you almost want to film yourself in front of them. When the hose connects to the car, it lights up like something out of a science fiction movie. We were surprised by how few electric cars use them. On our 1,650-mile trip, we only encountered one other Tesla driver.

I pointed out to my husband that a gallon of “Regular” gas was now under $2, which annoyed me. But he reassured me that electricity prices would eventually level out in the competition. That puzzled me because charging our Tesla doesn’t cost anything. But I didn’t say anything.

That was in Grand Junction, Colorado, at the Supermall, where it takes 30 minutes to walk from Best Buy to iHop—it’s that big. I found every fast food and retail chain America has to offer. The sun was shining, and in the distance, I could see the snow-covered hills of a massive landfill, where we later took a family stroll.

Our journey to the Sundance ski resort took us through seven states: Illinois, Wisconsin, Minnesota, South Dakota, Wyoming, Colorado, and Utah. (With a gas engine, it was two states fewer.) By the time we returned, the Tesla would have covered 3,300 miles through nine different states (because my husband insists on not taking the same route back). He’ll have made a 20-40 minute charging stop every 150-200 miles at 28 different malls. That amounts to: 21 hours of continuous Minecraft or watching all 8 Harry Potter movies plus 5 overnight stays (including 30 complimentary bottles of conditioner).

Charging Stops — screenshot courtesy of © Google Maps

Now, my beloved husband is on his way back. Because he caught me eyeing an old Ford Flex on the highway—just like the one we used to have—he bought return tickets to Illinois for me, our daughter, and the guest kid. He says he misses me terribly, but I know he can only work with loyal copilots. The kind who don’t tire of calculating nonstop acceleration up a hill and crosswinds. The kind whose legs still want to snuggle against the walnut trim of the fastest and most energy-efficient car in the world after 13 hours of driving.

So for the past two days, I’ve been lounging in my own bed with a wonderfully guilty conscience while the rest of my family subsidizes the hotel industry, emission-free. Soon, I’ll head to the garage to check out the other part of my Christmas gift: my very own home charging station. The hookup for ZERO, my new friend and companion.