It was my first-ever ride in an electric car, and it's led to many more. I got my first ride in a Tesla in September 2006. Back then, I helped organize a yearly All British Car Meet in Palo Alto, California. It was a cheerful event, with a relaxed vibe and a few prizes, and drew as many as 800 cars from 1920 to the modern day.
Because Lotus built the Tesla Roadster, I figured it was British enough to be at the meet. And I was curious about the car. I called in every favor I could, got a number for the company's marketing chief, Mike Harrigan, rang him up, and invited Tesla to bring a car to the show.
Harrigan was baffled: Why put a Tesla among old MGs, Austin-Healeys, Jaguars, Morris Minors, and the like? Because, I said, a lot were owned by wealthy Silicon Valley guys into cars—and they might be interested in this new idea. Some might even buy one. He said he'd think about it. I hung up thinking it was a no-go.
View Price on AmazonBut, around 9:30 am that morning, after a few hundred cars had streamed onto the fields at El Camino Park, I saw a low-slung, maroon two-seater coming in fast. I can ID almost any British car at 100 feet, but I had no idea what this was. It slowed, pulled into the curb lane, and drove up to me. It was one of three Tesla Roadsters then existing in the world.
"You came!" I said. "Yeah, I don't know how long we're going to stay," Harrigan said, "but we figured we'd check it out." I parked him on a small hill right at the entrance. We kept it open for rarities—including the Roadster, if it showed. As the influx of cars slowed, I wandered over to the Tesla. A large crowd surged around it.
I grabbed Harrigan and Diarmuid O'Connell, director of business development, both answering a barrage of questions. "Hey, people seem interested in the car," I said. "I'd like to make you guys a deal: If you sell a car here, can I get a ride?" O'Connell looked at me skeptically, then laughed. Harrigan, talking to potential buyers, said, "Yeah, sure," and turned back to his conversations.
After the meet broke up, I wandered over to the Tesla and found Harrigan. "So," I asked, "Any luck? Sell anything?" "Yeah," he said, slightly surprised, "Actually, we did. Some guy talked to me for a long time, then came back. And gave me a check. For $90,000." I couldn't help but grin.
Harrigan packed up the Roadster but, he said, there was a hitch. They had to take the car right back to Tesla's HQ in San Carlos, 19 miles north—and the car only had 14 percent charge left. So, he said, "I can only do one full-bore acceleration run for you, OK?" I nodded and climbed in. The racing-style seat was snug but comfortable, and at five-eleven, there was more legroom than I could use.
Harrigan turned the key. Nothing happened, except a few lights went on + a small screen lit up. He moved a lever, and we were off. It was my first-ever ride in a road-legal electric vehicle. The Roadster wasn't entirely silent. Some whine came from the motor and the power electronics. Heading up El Camino Real, the open top made it clear wind noise would be the main sound above 20 mph.
It was obvious the Roadster was a British car. It creaked, it rattled, parts of the dash buzzed and vibrated at different speeds. Still, it was so quiet I could hear tire noise. The San Mateo County Transit bus next to us at a traffic light was deafening.
Source: caranddriver.com
