After typing their first desired destination onto the jumbo touch screen--coastal Seaside, Oregon--the duo drove out of the parking lot. Little did they know, Miss Navigation System was confused by bridges.
"Go left...Make a U-turn," the computerized, female voice said.
Looking down from her satellite in the atmosphere, Miss Navigation System had trouble distinguishing intersections from bridges. Sometimes she gets it; often she does not.
"In point-two miles, engage the emergency brake and pull a J-turn."
Too shy to curse in front of each other five minutes into their 20,160-minute or so road trip, Arnie and Reggie gave each other a baffling look.
"She's probably just nervous," Reggie said as he dug around the back seat for an atlas. "You know, being that she's only driven 20 miles." Eventually they pointed the 2013 Car of the Year in the desired direction.
Outside of Portland pine trees lined the single lane drive to the Oregon coast. Reggie mounted a dash camera on the windshield underneath the rear view mirror. Arnie tested the blue tooth by calling his wife and a few co-workers.
Seaside, Oregon was a quaint beach setting with numerous niche shops and restaurants. At the end of the main drag was a cul-de-sac with a large statue of legendary trailblazers Lewis and Clark. Sand extended the length of a football field where the Pacific Ocean waved upon its beach.
"This is a neat spot," Arnie said, turning the heads of the beach tourists congregating underneath the wings of busy gulls as he drove. The writer exited the Tesla with a camera to document the first coast of their anticipated coast-to-coast adventure.
"Wow! What kind of car is that?" inquired a fellow from British Columbia.
"Check out the navigation system," said a young tattooed dude.
"Is that a hybrid?" a random woman asked.
Arnie entertained their questions until a cop pulled behind them and said, "You can't park there!"
*****
North to Astoria the Tesla drove. The mouth of the Columbia River sloshed into the Pacific. Barges passed one another and asked, "Is that an electric car over on Route 30?"
A full charge of the Tesla, Model S battery gave its passengers a 269-mile range. A lead foot decreased the range. As did steep inclines. Regenerative breaks charged the battery while driving. As did steep declines in altitude. The number 269 is variable. As a matter of fact, any number Miss Navigation displayed in its mileage range was variable.
As the sky grew dark, the duo engaged Miss Navigation System for a place to charge the battery of their new toy. She directed the boys to a WalMart. Estimated time of arrival 8:30 pm. It was all planned: charge the car, find Arnie some camping gear and grab some food. They reserved a campground 20-some miles further east down the road and arrived at the superstore with a 22-mile range left on the battery.
The charging station at the WalMart was positioned like a handicapped parking space--front row with threatening signs for the non-qualified. Arnie grabbed the handle of the gasoline-like pump, but the Blink-manufactured "male" nozzle was twice the size of the "female" Tesla receptacle.
No problem, they thought, as Arnie dug in the standard bag of adapters. Snap. Click. Nope...Snap. Click. Nope...Snap. Click. Nope...Uh, Oh!
The words of the post-salesman rung through Reggie's head: I wouldn't let it get much lower than 30.
Arnie asked customer service for an adapter, to no avail. They ate, bought the planned camping supplies and pleaded to Miss Navigation System for help. She directed them back west on I-84 to downtown Portland, then urged Arnie to make a U-turn each time they passed under a bridge--seemingly squeezing more juice from the li-on battery with each redundant, false command. Tesla's 22-mile range dropped to 15; the color of the gauge faded from lime green to puke green. At any moment the brand new, off-the-lot, sleek, electric, luxury, computer-on-wheels could have stalled among the speeding, air-polluting traffic. With an estimated 11-mile range they exited the highway. With the bridges in the rear view, Miss Navigation had them turn the corner where they saw a sign.
A Smart Garage for a smart car. The Ethiopian parking attendant directed the pale-faced passengers around a corner to a 50-amp charger. It powered the Model S at about 25 miles per charging hour. Arnie sighed. Reggie took photos. They took a walk.
Around the corner they spied neon lights in the window of a brick building. Another sign. The joint was named VQ--Veritable Quandary.
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