News

My red 1994 Volvo was a present from my mom. Halfway through my first pregnancy seven years ago, she took pity on me and handed over the keys.

Now, two adults and two kids share that red Volvo. School, work, soccer, doctor's appointments - we rely heavily on the car. So when it broke down suddenly last month, we were totally unprepared. I asked the mechanic how long it would take to fix and how much it would cost. He looked at me sympathetically and said for the 80th time, "The engine's dead. Dead."

I considered my options: Fix the Volvo ($3,500); buy a used car ($5,000 to $7,000); buy a hybrid ($20,000); join a car co-op ($2.50 an hour, plus the inconvenience of going to get the car with two fussy kids under age 6); try to live without a car (ha!).

Or I could go electric.

I live in the only province in Canada with electric cars on the road. At a price tag of $8,000, they're a little out of my range. But a life without gas is a seductive idea. For my family, it would amount to a saving of at least $150 a month, or $1,800 a year. That's no chump change. So I called up B.C. manufacturer Dynasty Electric Car Corp., and asked if I could test-drive one of its vehicles.

Bright green and cute as a button, the "IT" (Innovative Transportation) looks a lot like the Volkswagen bug. A quick peek under the hood reveals six 12-volt batteries, a small motor, and that's it. The interior is strictly utilitarian. The seats are covered with thin pillows, but the rest is just metal, great for easy hosing down if a kid pukes or drops food. And there's a huge trunk for storing strollers and groceries.

There are currently 20 electric cars on public roads in British Columbia and 10 more in private areas. Former Vancouver Canucks owner John McCaw has eight on his private island. Dynasty has sold more than 100 in the United States, where there are 30,000 electric cars on the roads.

The IT immediately attracts the attention of my neighbours. One little kid starts jumping up and down when he sees it.

"Are you charging it?" he asks, watching Dynasty general manager Danny Epp plug the bright pink extension cord into my house. "Is it fast?"

Actually, it's super slow. The car is only allowed to go up to 40 kilometres an hour. The IT can't go on roads, bridges or highways with speed limits above 50 km/h. This is according to federal Department of Transportation legislation that has only been adopted in British Columbia. (Ontario and Quebec have both recently expressed an interest in fast-tracking low-speed vehicle legislation, but no further action has been taken.) The speed restrictions are based on safety concerns; the vehicle has never been crash-tested.

"They're completely safe," says Mr. Epp, whose company is one of two electric car manufacturers in Canada. (The other, ZENN Motor Co. of Ontario, sells only to the United States.) "There have been no fatalities with electric cars in the last 10 years."

"By saying they can only go on roads up to 50 km/h, [the Department of Transportation makes] the cars really impractical," Mr. Epp acknowledges.

But there are limitations beyond the speed. The electric car only travels 50 kilometres before running out of juice. After that, you have to plug it into an electrical outlet overnight.

For my first driving lesson with Mr. Epp, I strap my three-year-old daughter into her car seat with only a seatbelt; there is no hook on the back of the car for the car seat's safety clasp, but I figure if we're only going 40 km/h, she should be okay.

At first, it feels like an enclosed golf cart. It's jerky. It's freezing. The heat, says Mr. Epp, only serves to defrost the windows. It would take too much battery power to have a real heating system.

There's no stick shift: Just a turn of the key and a turn of a knob and we're off. The steering wheel feels stiff and the brakes are slow to respond. When we pause at a stop sign, the car stops running. It's dead quiet, because the motor turns off and turns into a generator to recharge the batteries. But when I push the gas, it turns right back on. We drive around the block. I love it.

My next task: pick upmy six-year-old son at a friend's house. I leave my daughter with my mom and start driving the 37 blocks. On the first major street, I try to keep up with traffic but I'm stuck at 35 km/h. I have to put my flicker on half a dozen times and pull over to let the annoyed drivers pass.

Then, going up a hill, I hear a clanking sound. The car comes to a sudden halt. I turn everything off and on again like I do when my computer crashes. It works, but the clanking gets worse and the car starts lurching and stalls again, right in the middle of a busy street at rush hour. I turn it off and on again several times, but get frustrated and pull over.

Mercifully, my mom comes to the rescue, driving over to pick me up. I'm relieved my daughter isn't with me. Later, Mr. Epp tells me it was just the batteries and vows to fix the problem and give me another go at it. Several weeks later, when the new orange car is delivered, it feels different: solid and slightly faster. But I'm still nervous, so I use it only on short trips. For driving around a 10-block radius, this car is great.

But it's still not reliable or useful. If it can't make it across town for drinks with friends or to a hockey game, what's the point? And I can't quite envision a near future with electrical outlets stationed all over the city for a quick plug-in.

Until the electric car goes faster and farther, my Volvo doesn't seem like such a bad ride for me and my family.

When I get back in the driver's seat of my old car - $3,700 later - the engine rattles.

But it's fast, it's warm and there's enough gas to get me across town 20 times without stopping.