After a few days of discussing what the Chevy Volt is, including an overview of the car on Tuesday, a photo tour on Wednesday and a review of the OnStar RemoteLink app yesterday, let's get down to the nitty-gritty:
How does it drive?
As Sade once sang, the Chevy Volt is a smooth operator.
You start Volt literally with the push of a button. And except for a mild WHOOSH surge of power that reminded me of the Millennium Falcon going to light speed (when it worked right) in the original Star Wars, and the dashboard and console screen lighting-up, you initially think not much is happening. Once running, Volt is library quiet, especially in battery mode, although there's sort of a mechanical whirring you can only hear when you stand near the hood. It's a stunning non-effect.
Once you start moving, Volt rides like a sled through well-worn ice tracks – incredibly smooth, remarkably smooth. And it accelerates and decelerates smoothly without any jerking.
Acceleration also isn't an issue. Volt goes from zero-to-60 in around nine seconds, whether on battery or gas. That's not exactly Porsche Turbo 11 quick (but then, what is?), but I found it plenty zippy enough to easily – and, of course, smoothly – merge into whizzing highway traffic.
Volt also seems to maneuver and handle nicely; I could pull a taut U-turn on a normal street with cars parked on both sides, and had no trouble quickly shifting highway lanes when some moron decided he needed to be in my lane in the spot I was already in (I'm often flabbergasted at how some drivers happily disregard the laws of physics at 70 MPH).
A smooth handoff
As we've discussed, Volt is a dual electric-gas plug-in hybrid. It will first run on its lithium-ion batteries, then switch to gas power when the battery dies. I got around 40 miles on a full charge (which took just nine hours, not the 10 I was told it would take) – even though the meter said I'd get only 35 – doing mostly highway driving at either 60 or 70 MPH on cruise control.
And Volt switches from battery to gas while you're driving – smoothly. I made the battery-to-gas transition three times, all while hurtling down highways (at a perfectly legal 55 MPH, of course), and felt absolutely nothing. Not a tick, not a twinge, not a shutter. I've read that some reviewers have felt…something. I didn't.
What does happen is the energy meter switches from a battery icon to the gas pump icon. But instead of the meaningless "full"/"empty" indicators, both the battery and gas gauges give you a mileage-to-go reading (see this image from Wednesday's Volt photo tour).
This mileage meter becomes especially handy when you're down to fumes – no more guessing how far you'll be able to drive until you get to the gas station you hope is right around the bend.
Getting a charge
Volt is more about driving, of course. To use the battery, you have to charge it. And for $35-$40k, the charging process ought to be a bit less, well, low rent.
Volt has a 20-foot orange extension cord wound around a heavy, 18-inch-long oblong charging spool (which you can see here from Wednesday's photo tour), which has indicator lights to let you know it's plugged in and charging. Considering how technologically modern the Volt is, this cord/spool thing reminds me of a vacuum cleaner, the kind you have to manually wind and wind and wind and wind the cord around the handle stalk when you're done sucking up the dirt.
But the 20-foot Volt cord is the several times thicker and heavier and the spool far more awkward than their vacuum cleaner counterparts, making the whole unwinding and winding process tedious and annoying.
You'd think Chevy could have dreamed up some kind of retractable cord mechanism. Unless you're anal retentive, you'll end up not bothering to rewind the cord. You'll either leave it lying on the floor of your garage (and accidentally run over it when you come home with some of the cable inevitably stuck beneath a wheel, or leave it behind when you go on a trip), or toss it unwound into the hatchback. Or, the trunk hatch under which you store the spool will be covered by the semi-permanent items – golf clubs, a baby carriage, a box of car emergency gadgets, etc. – you keep behind the rear seats, which means the cord will lie in an ugly pile somewhere it doesn't belong. In all events, over time the cord will get filthy, which means charging your Volt will literally become a dirty job.
No matter how you look at it, the winding spool is not an elegant solution and unworthy of such an otherwise advanced vehicle.
All those screens, all that sound
Take a look at this photo of the Volt's center console from Wednesday's photo tour. It's nearly as airplane cockpit daunting as it looks. The lettering for each button isn't dark enough to easily read at a while-you're-driving glance, and the buttons for the varying functions – climate, music primarily – are not logically or visually grouped together.
Volt also talks to you – she interrupts your driving reverie with traffic and weather alerts and assorted, often mystery beeps (including a handy one to let you know you've left your turn signal blinking). I didn't have Volt long enough to know if you can silence or turn off the alerts (yes, I'm on a freeway, I know there's going to be traffic, and I know the alternate routes aren't really alternatives, so shut up!).
You can turn off the rear proximity sensor beeping, however, by pushing the P button on the ceiling control panel, seen here in Wednesday's photo tour.
Volt has plenty of closet space, so to speak. It may be tough to see, but behind the transmission stick under the center console is a large empty storage area. The hatch between the front seats is roomy (it's where the USB and auxiliary audio jack are located), there are dual beverage holders front and back, and there's a dash-top storage space over the center console roomy enough for a couple of pair of sunglasses.
Conclusion
With the tax rebates/credits/whatever cutting its price, buying a Volt or one of its fellow hybrids, ought to be a financial no-brainer for those folks who don't live in Manhattan. Not only are hybrids more cost effective than regular gas-suckers, but you'd be helping us use less oil.
Even if it isn't the cheapest hybrid, plug-in or otherwise, it certainly is the most cost-efficient to operate if you don't drive more than 40 miles a day and can fully recharge the battery each night. It's just hard to get past the sticker, even with the government tax credits.
But Volt was a lot of fun to drive – it certainly attracted a lot of attention and started a lot of conversations with friends I hadn't met while I was out and about. An impressed toll collector insisted on asking lots of questions despite a line of cars piling up behind me.
But I wouldn't consider a Volt unless I had a garage where I could plug it in every night (if I lived someplace where I had a garage), if my commute round trip (if I commuted) or the kids' school (if I had kids) or the mall or supermarket (if I went shopping) were within the battery's driving range, because Volt's whole value proposition is using it on its battery, not the way I've been driving it – on gas. But it was a gas to drive for a few days.