I celebrated my 40th birthday during the first lockdown, while my very good friend David celebrated his 40th during the second. So, when a few weeks back I was offered the use of a Model 3 Tesla for a few days I thought it was the perfect excuse for some very belated boys’ weekend celebrations. Along with our other very good friend Nico we decided to test the 600km-ish range claim and took the Tesla to Taranaki.
Middle age I may be, but most of my tastes are decidedly even older school. Most of my favourite musicians are dead and all my favourite writers most certainly are. I’m not on Facebook, I still prefer books with actual pages, and, as for motoring, give me a clutch and stick shift every day of the week and twice on Sundays. Though I compost, recycle and bicycle whenever I can, my dream car would be a not so-green-toss-up between a ‘60s Ford Mustang and an E-Type Jag (we did say dream). So, although I couldn’t have been more excited—or intrigued—to pop my Tesla cherry, I was also little apprehensive that it might all turn out to be a little bit too bland. Within seconds of leaving the forecourt, I was smitten.
Pre-departure I was run through the car’s controls and capabilities, feeling utterly overwhelmed and expecting my PhD to arrive later in the post. One of the handiest takeways was learning of Tesla’s ability to estimate how much charge you’ll have upon arrival at your pre-programmed destiantion. From Auckland to Taranaki, off a full charge, I should arrive in New Plymouth, it said, with 23 percent battery left, so long as, I was told, I wasn’t too “lead footed” on the ‘gas’. However, when you’re driving something that launches like a rollercoaster, it’s difficult not to enjoy the ride.
With an hour or so to go the battery was down to the low teens and like the astronauts in the movie Apollo 13, the three of us were trying to figure out ways to save power. Nico (who has an actual PhD), dimmed the control screen, David cancelled the karaoke (that’s not even the best feature, but more on those later), and I reluctantly removed some of that lead from my right foot. The onboard computer still reckoned we’d make it with 11 percent to spare but when you’re driving an electric vehicle through what seems like the middle of nowhere, 11 percent feels like a helluva close call. There was plenty of rum and whisky in the boot should we have to spend the night in the wop-wops, but we had little-to-no food or water, and I wondered if David and Nico were also wondering who they would eat first.
We rocked into New Plymouth with 12 percent battery left—high five!
The following day our trio and the Tesla headed into Egmont National Park. I pondered the poetic beauty of navigating a protected paradise in a zero-emissions vehicle; the curling, damp, and often mossy roads approaching Taranaki’s lower slopes made zero difference to the handling which is further enhanced by the lowered centre of gravity thanks to the positioning of the battery underfloor. Nothing has been left to chance in the pursuit of optimum performance and efficiency—even the handles (whose operation take a second or two to figure out) are sunken into the car doors, presumably to further reduce drag. The silhouette is aerodynamic, without the look-at-my-flash-car-posturing of many of its competitors, 99.9 percent of whom the Model 3 would leave, silently, it its wake. There is a mass of storage space—front and back—while the glorious moonroof is the quite literal icing on the cake.
You can’t be anything but awed by the minimalist beauty of the interior. There are no dials or instrument displays. Everything—even the glove box and fan direction—is controlled via the sizeable iPad-like screen that dominates the dash, aided by a couple of toggles on the steering wheel. Behind the screen and steering wheel, an elegant strip of wood stretches the width of the cabin. The vegan leather seats (heated, of course) offer the support of sportscar bucket ones, combined with the comfort of a saloon’s. Artificial intelligence projects hazards like other vehicles, people, traffic cones and even traffic lights with their actual colour, in real time, and real position, onto the screen. Seriously, you don’t even have to brake as the car does so automatically when you ease off the accelerator (though there is a working brake pedal too).
Lights and wipers are automatic and, as well as the aforementioned karaoke programme, there’s heaps of media options such as Netflix, retro video games and Spotify, as well as navigation and a romantic fireplace setting replete with the crackle of burning logs (for safety reasons, not all are accessible while driving). And, to prove that they really have thought of everything, there’s a joke digital whoopee cushion that enables you to deliver a cacophony of fart sounds to all four corners of the car, or use them in lieu of the indicator noise (a feature clearly aimed at families with young kids, and to amuse middle aged men excited about a weekend away. Come to think of it, it may have played a part in our excessive battery use on the way down). The sound system is loud, crisp and bassy enough to park up in a field and host a your very own rave, and, a bit like KITT from Knight Rider, certain features can be controlled remotely via an app (which also does things like provide updates to eliminate the need to visit a service centre).
Three Model 3 trim levels offer an impressive range of 460-657km (don’t expect to quite reach these on New Zealand’s hilly, winding roads, but they’re not too far off), top speeds of 225-261km/h, and a potential mind-boggling, stomach-dropping acceleration of 0-100km/h in 3.3 seconds—you find yourself deliberately slowing right down just to experience the thrill of speeding up (this likely also affected that battery usage).
Some cars are clearly destined to become classics of the future, but the Tesla feels so ahead of its time that it’s almost terrifying to imagine what the future will be like when this technology is considered a thing of the past. Flying cars? Psychic cars? Teletransportation? So, for now, we’d better just enjoy the drive.
