How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the EV Road Trip

Part 2 of our EV road trip chronicles, in which we make it to Albuquerque.

On the road to Flagstaff, Arizona

As Rafael and I set out on our Oakland – Albuquerque road trip, I felt some trepidation. Though I’ve been (sporadically) writing about range anxiety solutions for over a decade, I had to admit it: I was feeling range anxiety. Our Chevy Bolt has a decent range of about 250 miles on a full charge, and we had mapped out the chargers for our three-day trip. But I worried that chargers along the route would be unavailable or out of service, or that we wouldn’t be able to charge enough for some of the long uphill stretches.

Yes, I’m a worrier. Convincing myself to relax and worry less is an ongoing process, and I have made progress over the years. But a part of me still feels like I might jinx things if I relax too much. Are my half-Jewish genes at play? Who knows. Whatever the reason, it’s hard for me to completely escape worrying.

And let’s face it — there are reasons for EV range anxiety. 

Spoiler alert: EV road trip issues are not insurmountable. We made it to Albuquerque, with a few pleasant surprises along the way. But we did hit a few snags.

Road worrier

My worries seemed confirmed shortly after we arrived at our first charging stop. We had no trouble finding the chargers at the Panoche Shell station in Firebaugh, California (a town I’d never heard of, though it’s just a couple hours from home), and there were a few available. But the displays were so weathered that they were practically unreadable. We could see that we needed to plug in first, but what would we do next? How would we pay? I’d read about this problem at California charging stations, and I worried all the stops would feature unreadable chargers.

We were lucky. A group of three Electrify America technicians happened to be onsite servicing the chargers. One of them was just learning about the machines and had to call on assistance from the other two, who had been brought over from Korea to share their expertise.

With the assistance of three technicians, plus an umbrella to shade the displays so that we’d have some chance of reading them, we managed to plug in and charge. A bonus: The technicians informed us that Electrify America, one of the biggest charging networks in the country, was running a promotion and our charge would be complimentary! We could finally relax at the nearby picnic tables while the car charged.

How many people does it take to charge an EV?

By the next stop, an hour and a half later, we felt like pros. But we did encounter some issues over the next three days. 

Almost invariably, at least one or two chargers weren’t working. There’s a number you can call for help, but if a charger isn’t working, there isn’t usually much that the person on the other end of the phone can do. Sometimes a charger wouldn’t take on the first or second try but would work if you kept trying. Sometimes it wouldn’t. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to it.

Why couldn’t the charging be initiated? Who knows.

Why was the charger unavailable? Who knows.

When we arrived at our first overnight stop in Barstow, California, the hotel’s two chargers were fortunately available. But we were tired from a long day of driving and had to figure out a new charging network, EV Connect. There were almost no instructions on the charger, but it did say we needed an app, which turned out to be one of the few we hadn’t downloaded in advance. After downloading the app, it took a few minutes to figure out what to do next, which involved scanning a QR code. Finally, we confirmed the car was charging and settled in for the night.

Pleasures, pleasant surprises, and a good dose of luck

Despite the challenges, our trip to Albuquerque went smoothly, thanks in part to our extensive preparation. 

But a key factor in our success was also the good luck that began with finding the technicians at our first stop and continued all the way to Albuquerque, along with some pleasant surprises:

• When some chargers were out of order, we always found at least one that was working. 

• If the working chargers were being used, there was always someone who was almost done charging and was about to pull out.

• Our second hotel, a very large one, had only three chargers, and two were for Teslas (which other cars can’t use; thanks, Elon). We were fortunate that the only one that would work for our Bolt happened to be available. The charger had no instructions, so we plugged in and hoped for the best. It started charging — for free!

• At many of the stops, we ran into a couple driving a car with the license plate LAST CAR; they were on their return trip to Albuquerque from California. In Gallup, we got to chatting with them and learned that on the trip out, they’d been stuck there with several other cars for five hours waiting for the chargers to be serviced. We were lucky to never have to wait more than a few minutes to start charging.

• After the first unreadable displays, we were relieved — and surprised — to find that all the others were quite clear. They didn’t always say what you wanted them to, but we could read them.

• We didn’t get to practice paying on the Electrify America chargers, because the complimentary charging continued even after we arrived in Albuquerque. While I care more about being able to charge in the first place, the free charging was a nice bonus. 

Our car is the white one at the end, charging next to LAST CAR.

As the successes accumulated, I began to relax more. And I started to feel a major benefit of an EV road trip: it’s much more chill. You can’t rush. You’re forced to stop often and to take your time at the stops, almost all of which have picnic tables, restaurants, and shops nearby. A three-day road trip seems more daunting if you feel the need to hurry and cover a lot of ground every day. In an EV (at least a non-Tesla one), you have to slow down.

Having the time to slow down and savor a road trip is a privilege — one I appreciated more and more as our trip progressed. 

I also appreciated the sense of cameraderie we felt with our fellow EV drivers. Sometimes it was just a nod; sometimes people went out of their way to offer to move their car or let us know they were almost done charging. There was a real sense of community; we were all in this together, and for this brief moment in time, we’re still part of a subculture.

Learning to trust

Toward the end of our trip to Albuquerque, I felt a few moments of stress. As you get into Arizona and New Mexico, there are fewer chargers, and we had some uphill stretches of 130 miles. (One of those would have been 180 miles, but I convinced Rafael to stop at the single charging station in between so as not to cut it close; when we caught up with LAST CAR, they mentioned they’d attempted the whole distance on one charge and barely made it, vindicating my cautious self.)

Solar farm outside Gallup, New Mexico

But I talked myself into relaxing and trusting the journey. I’ve found that an effective antidote to worry is to picture the worst possible outcome. In most cases, you realize that it wouldn’t be that bad. Yes, it would be extremely annoying — and potentially exhausting — waiting at a charger for five hours. But we wouldn’t die. Even if our trip got delayed or extended, we’d be okay. Rafael and I are currently consultants, so we have some flexibility in where and when we work. It’s an ideal time for us to attempt our first EV road trip.

I can’t promise I’ll relax the whole way home, and we may encounter more issues than we did on the first leg of our journey. But I do feel more confident that an EV road trip is eminently doable. And it will only get more doable every year.

The next and final installment of our EV road trip chronicles will feature tips for taking your own EV trip, plus what the U.S. needs to make it easier. Tune in next week!

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As my friend Ashley points out, “Transportation accounts for 27% of global carbon emissions and road travel accounts for 88% of that.” That’s a good reason to switch to an EV. Check out Ashley’s free newsletter, which also chronicles travels — by sailboat:

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