Thursday (April 10) dawned clear and bright. A big blue bowl overhead.

Today would be the acid test. I would start from my Airbnb on the south side of Alpine and drive south on Texas-118 into Big Bend National Park to Santa Elena Canyon. A 240 mile roundtrip. At highway speeds, Nell had 200 miles of range and I usually stopped and recharged after 160 miles while I still had 20 percent of my battery left. There would be no commercial chargers on this route.

I would have to stretch Nell’s battery 50 percent farther than I normally do.

Even worse, the net change in elevation between Alpine and Santa Elena Canyon was 3200 feet. My mileage estimator would not be a reliable indicator of how many miles I had left. Having only driven Nell only around Midwestern flatlands, I had no idea how changes in elevation would affect her power consumption.

I would be going downhill to Santa Elena Canyon which would make it look like I had more miles left than I really had when I turned around and drove uphill back to Alpine. Worse than that, I actually had to climb 4500 feet from Santa Elena Canyon to make it through a mountain range before dropping down into Alpine. I really had no idea whether Nell had the battery capacity to make that climb.

The only potential harbor in a storm was the Venga Cafe in Terlingua, a little village just outside the National Park that had a level 2 charger which was reserved for guests of their casita rentals, might or might not be working, and if it was working would only charge about 10 percent of my battery in an hour.

I tried e-mailing the cafe for reassurance that I could use their charger, but the e-mail bounced. I tried calling and got kicked to an answering machine.

I really was not sure that this was a good idea, but if you don’t like uncertainty, don’t sign up adventures. I filled a gallon plastic jug up with water and made a plan.

According to articles I found on the internet (a reliable source of unfailing truth), atmospheric drag on automobiles doesn’t really start to kick in until you hit 50 miles and hour. I’m not really a fan of hyper-miling, but desperate times call for desperate measures. 75 mile an hour speed limits be damned, I would drive south at 50 miles an hour.

Highways in this part of Texas are mostly deserted and have plenty of long straightaways for passing so it didn’t seem like a great imposition on the motoring public to drive a little poky in the service of an adventure.

This was a scenic drive and so I was going to drive at a pace that would allow me to see it.

When I my battery reached 67 percent, I would turn around – no matter what – and head back to Alpine. I doubted that going back up to Alpine would use 2X what my drive down had used, but I felt like I should have a pretty good margin of safety with that plan.

With my plan in place, I unplugged Nell and rolled down the drive. I happened to look up and saw a dozen turkey vultures circling the house hungrily. I thought, “Welp. I guess I know what they think of my plan.”

In the actual event, it was a lovely drive. There was no cell phone coverage, but only 3 vehicles passed me which made me feel better about driving so pokily. It did make me feel worse about my prospects for avoiding buzzards should something go awry.

It was in the 70s when I set out, so I cracked the window and turned off the A/C. I didn’t play the radio. I was conserving every last watt. I found that my thoughts are pretty good company on a pretty spring morning rolling through a scenic desert landscape.

The landscape turned from desert but with patches of green, to gray, to brown and before I knew it, I had driven 81.6 miles and was pulling up at the Venga Cafe just in time for lunch. My battery was at 83 percent. Far better than I expected. Even better there was a text from the cafe owner saying that I was welcome to use the charger and should just make a free will offering in the red drop box at the end of the wall next to the charger. EV solidarity for the win again!

I plugged in Nell and tucked into a plate of Venga’s delicious tacos stuffed with fresh guacamole and crispy cubes of steak. They were worth the drive.

When I saddled Nell up again, she had added 10 percent to her charge so she now stood at 93 percent. I was grateful for the boost. It was entirely possible that her minimal consumption on the trip to Terlingua only meant that the descent was very steep and that her battery would drop like a rock once we turned back to Alpine. Every watt would count.

As we entered the park and prepared to drop down into Big Bend toward Santa Elena Canyon, I was greeted by the beautiful Ocotillo cactus. Normally it looks brown and twisted like something that died long ago. Here’s a picture of one that’s dormant:

It had rained a bit the previous week and when it rains, the Ocotillo sends out tiny leaves to collect sunlight and, if the timing is right, it has beautiful red blooms out at the tip of it’s stems. The effect is a skinny cactus, ready for love, standing on its tippy toes waving its blooms as if to shout to potential partners, “Pick me! Pick me!” Here’s a link to a photo in the Encyclopedia Britannica (which does not do the beautiful Ocotillo justice):

https://cdn.britannica.com/54/40054-050-29E13E65/Ocotillo.jpg

As we descended down toward the Rio Grande and Santa Elena Canyon, the temperature rose until Nell said that the external temps had hit 100 degrees. The parking lot was boiling. I trudged through the brush until I got to a dry wash and crawled up the riverbank to the trail that would take me into Santa Elena. There was a little brush providing bits of shade including some bits of Palo Verde covered in bounteous yellow blossoms. Here’s a photo:

To get into the canyon, you had to go up and over a series of switchbacks and then back down to where the river was located. None of it was shaded, but the views were spectacular. Eventually we dropped back into the canyon, there was shade, a cooling breeze, the temperature dropped 20 degrees and the respite from the sun and heat seemed paradisaical.

A crusty boomer removed his socks and shoes and prepared to wade into the river. I observed, “The greenish tinge of water means it’s full of microscopic algae, which means it’s full of “nutrients” from upstream. Are you sure you want to wade into that?”

“Bah! Wade into it? A bathed in it last week on a canoe trip. The water’s fine.”

I deferred to his superior expertise, but my shoes and socks stayed on as I lingered for a while, craning my neck to admire the dizzying heights of the canyon walls.

It was hard to stir myself to get on my feet and do that hike back to the car. On the way in, I knew that cool shade awaited me at the end of my hike. On the way out, my hike would terminate in a 100 degree parking lot and a car that had baked in the sun for several hours. Welp. Pitter-patter let’s get at ‘er. I heaved onto my feet and lurched back to the parking lot.

Soon enough, I was back with Nell. We had a 75 percent charge to get back to Alpine. I was pretty sure that we would be ok so after opening the doors to air the car out and taking a strong pull on my water bottle, I rolled up the windows, set the A/C for 75, and began the ginger climb out of the Rio Grande Valley. By the time we hit Terlingua, I had enough confidence to turn on iTunes and have the big tenor of George Jones sing Nell and I some gospel tunes as we rolled along.

I carefully watched how fast the battery was dropping and every few miles would bump up the cruise control another mph. By about 40 miles outside of Alpine, it was clear that we were golden and I chilled the car down to 72 degrees and drove 80 mph the rest of the way home. When I pulled in the drive, the battery indicator said that I still had 23 percent of my battery left.

The turkey vultures were nowhere to be seen.

Day 1: 688 miles traveled. $12.01 Spent on “gas.” $51.08 in “gas” money contributed by Hyundai. Cost of “gas” with an Electrify America membership: $47.32.

Day 2: 377 miles traveled. $9.82 spent on “gas.” $90.82 in “gas” money contributed by Hyundai. Cost of “gas” with an Electrify America membership: $75.48.

Days 3 and 4: All over Austin. Not a penny spent on “gas.”

Day 5: 410 miles traveled. 41 cents spent on “gas.” $73.13 in “gas” money contributed by Hyundai. Cost of “gas” with an Electrify American membership: $55.16.

Day 6: 240 miles traveled. Not a penny spent on “gas.”

Trip Total: 1,715 miles traveled and all over Austin. $22.24 spent on “gas”. $163.95 in “gas” contributed by Hyundai. Cost of “gas” for a retail customer with an Electrify America membership: $139.64.