This has been one hell of a week for EV range anxiety! If you’ve been following my journey, you know I’m usually the one preaching the gospel of electric efficiency and the “Fisker Stop,” but lately, the universe seems determined to test my resolve. Just earlier last week, I wrote an article about the 32-amp charging challenge—a technical deep dive into why our Oceans take a bit longer to “sip” power at home. Then, like a self-fulfilling prophecy, I suffered through that very same challenge just a few days later. For the first time, I actually had to pay for charging during normal driving days because I simply didn’t have enough time to get a full charge for the “Irvine Tour.”
But tonight? Tonight was the coup de grâce.
The Curveball in the City of Angels
The day started innocently enough. We drove from Palm Springs up to Glendale for Nancy’s haircut. After the appointment, we headed down the 23 miles to Compton to visit Dad and my Aunt. In a “normal” world, this results in an easy drive home with about 60 miles remaining on the odometer—plenty of juice to cruise back to the desert.
Then came the double curveball whammy. It stated with the intention to drive to visit Dad’s sister. She 8.4 miles away, so this was manageable. But then, our friends, Bob and Christine, called and asked us to join them for dinner. Now, I’m never one to turn down good company and a great meal, but dinner was back up in Beverly Hills. By the time the day was done, and we finished our meal and said our goodbyes, I looked down at the dash and felt that familiar tightening in my chest. We had 103 miles of range remaining for a trip that required exactly 115 miles.
We were in the red.
The Beverly Center Ghost Town
A frantic search revealed a ChargePoint station at the Beverly Center nearby. We figured we could spend an hour window shopping while the car clawed back some range. However, as we walked through the mall, we realized most of the stores were closed. The Beverly Center shuts its doors at 8 PM, and at 7:30p, the people we saw “milling about” were just leftover shoppers that security was too polite to kick out.
We headed back to the car and were disappointed to see that the slow charger had only bumped us up to 116 miles. I looked at the map: the distance home was exactly 116 miles.
I looked at my wife and said, “Honey, every time we’ve tried this coming home from LA, we wind up beating the estimate due to the downhill slope into Palm Springs. Let’s go for it!”
The Science of the “Moving Parking Lot”
And go for it we did, with one major caveat: when it comes to range anxiety in an EV, traffic is your friend. And here in LA, they have traffic in spades!
As we hit the streets, Nancy was worried that sitting in a standstill was going to gobble up our energy. I tried to explain the physics: an electric car doesn’t idle like a gas car. EV energy use is linear, and wind resistance is the ultimate range killer. An EV’s “sweet spot” for maximum distance is actually around 40–45 mph. I reminded her of the record-breaking run of the Polestar 2 last year, where they achieved a staggering 581 miles on a single charge by driving roughly 25 mph for 23 hours.
I wasn’t going to drop that low, but LA traffic was doing the work for me. Creeping down La Cienega, I was thrilled to see that by the time we reached the freeway, we had 113 miles to go but still had 115 miles on the range meter. We had already “clawed back” a two-mile bonus.
The 10 Freeway: A Beautiful Disaster
Hopping onto the 10 Freeway—that glorious, moving parking lot—I’ve never been happier to see red brake lights. We averaged 30 mph as we approached Downtown LA. I got a little worried when we switched from the 10 to the 60 and the road opened up. Cars began zooming by, and I looked down to see I was doing 60 mph. How much longer can this last? I wondered.
My prayers were answered near Monterey Park, as the twinkling red lights appeared ahead. Thank God, more traffic!
By the time we reached Diamond Bar, we were at a 10-mile bonus. As traffic picked up, I stuck to my guns: I stayed in the slow lane and drafted behind the big semi trucks. By the time we reached Corona, the bonus had grown to 12 miles. I began to realize this was actually going to work.
The Badlands Rollercoaster
The drive was sporadic—where were all these people coming from at this hour? By Moreno Valley, we had a 22-mile buffer. I thought we were “Easy Peezy,” and then we hit The Badlands.
Yes! It’s actually called The Badlands! It’s a steep, uphill, winding 1,000′ mountain climb. As we crested the top, I watched our hard-earned advantage evaporate. By the time we started down the other side, we were back to a measly 5-mile bonus. Don’t panic. Don’t panic! I told myself. I was panicking
And really, turns out there was no need to. As you come down the backside through Beaumont, you really start to feel the “downhill roll” into the Coachella Valley. Suddenly, we were back to a 10-mile bonus. By the time we hit Banning, it was 20 miles. Then something weird happened: we drove for about 15 miles, yet the range meter stayed frozen at 32 miles remaining. We were racking up “free” miles through pure downhill minimal-consumption driving. This is where the Fisker excels. I don’t know how, or why: Is it the drafting? The weight of the car using gravity to the full extent? Don’t know. But I do know this surpassed what I used to do in the Polestar.
Home at Last
We pulled off the 10, cruised across the Hwy111 Palm Springs road at a conservative 65 mph, and finally rolled into our driveway in Palm Springs. At the last stoplight before our house, the car showed a whopping 29 miles remaining.
Think about that math: When we were in Beverly Hills, the car said we had 116 miles. We drove 116 miles and still had 29 left. In total, we effectively got 145 miles of actual travel out of a starting “estimate” of 116 miles.
It was an absolute masterclass in EV physics and a testament to why you should never count the Fisker Ocean out. Range anxiety might have won the morning, but the “downhill roll” and the LA traffic jams won the night.