Tesla Roadster

Within the perpetual colour and diversity of this modern life we lead, it isn’t often that we are presented with a genuinely new experience. This is one of the few downsides to living in a western European democracy- yes, we may not worry about catching Polio anymore, but life does seem rather straightforward and predictable sometimes. Hence the reason so many people decide to extricate themselves from the monotony of everyday life by exposing themselves to unnecessary risk. Why else would you run the Marathon Des Sables – a six day running race across the Sahara?

The Tesla Roadster is something completely new. Like any car-mad individual, much of my life is defied by car-experiences: the first time I drove an F40, the first time I rode in a McLaren F1, the first time I spun an F1 car. Each of them is an indelible high, and predictably so, given how lucky I was to be given the chance to occupy each seat. If you’d told me that a two hour drive from central London to Chobham –and back- in an electric car would rank alongside those listed above, I’d have given you short shrift. But the Tesla is astonishing.

There is no point in making profound statements about it being ‘the future’ or predicting that the internal combustion engine is living on borrowed time. I don’t have any answers to those or any similar questions because I don’t have a very big brain, but what I can tell you, and what really matters to you and me, is that I had an absolute riot in the Tesla. It goaded me into behaving like a complete arse, which on reflection is a much more significant observation than any number of statistics that explain the car’s actual performance. This is the first all-electric vehicle I have ever driven (even the buggies at the golf club have a little motor in them), and I had to restrain myself. Suddenly, the future of motoring –if indeed this is the future- doesn’t seem so bleak.

Tesla claims that the Roadster will hit 60mph in 3.9sec. It feels faster than that. The first time you push the throttle pedal half way towards the floor, you laugh at the absurdity of such urge from something that doesn’t have any con-rods. I have always assumed that noise makes an invaluable contribution to the perception of speed (a loud exhaust always makes you feel like you’re going faster) but the Tesla loops this theory back on itself. In being so quiet, it concentrates the mind on the shove. This is straight-line performance of the purest kind: acceleration distilled down to one, sumptuous push in the lower back with no gearchanges to interrupt the flow. It is utterly compelling and addictive. The traffic light grand prix will never be the same again –with 450kg of batteries sitting over the rear wheels the Tesla has the tractive quality of chewing gum on long hair, and it just flies from a standstill. The life of the motorcycle courier will never be the same again: the Tesla nails them every time. Its silence is masterful too. I love the sound of a decent exhaust or induction system as much as the next man, but very quickly found myself enjoying the serenity of the Tesla experience.

It is a long way from perfect this car. It is too expensive, it takes too long to charge and if you do fail to resist the urge to behave like a knob (as I most certainly did) then the range falls to well below 200 miles. And even with a full carbon body, it weighs 1200kg, which is too much for something based on an Elise tub. But as a marker –as a letter of intent on behalf of the electric motor and its intentions for involvement in the future of personal transportation, it is quite the most exciting car I’ll drive all year; perhaps ever. Watch the (silent) movie on DR TV.

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