For about three days, everything about my experience of swapping out a gas-guzzler for an electric vehicle went well until I took my new EV for a drive exploring the little towns around New York’s Hudson Valley.
I have driven electric cars before, but on the mountain road between Bear Mountain State Park and Peekskill, New York, everything I knew flew out the window and became moot.
Never has any car in my control put me through a situation like this.
In the span of a split second, the screen in front of me lit up like a Christmas tree. I received a flurry of alerts warning me about the diminished status of almost every car function, from its many sensors to its regenerative braking system, air suspension system, and motors.
“Please don’t die on me,” I begged, as the car I was driving suddenly went into “limp mode” and slowed me down from 45 miles per hour to just 20, angering the person behind the wheel of the grey Subaru Legacy behind me.
As was the case then, I have a lot to explain.
James Ochoa
For about a week in mid-November 2024, I wanted to challenge myself by doing something I thought I would not have to do until some time in the distant future: swap my gasoline-powered daily driver for an electric vehicle.
The electric vehicle in question was the Rivian R1S, a relatively sizable vehicle that I often see roaming the streets of the suburban enclaves of North Jersey. The way I see it, they are mostly being adopted as an electric alternative to large family SUVs like Chevrolet Tahoes and Ford Expeditions.
Since it hit the streets in 2022, I have been deeply attracted to its unusual styling and Rivian’s brand image of being Tesla’s “outdoorsy” counterpart. The one I drove was a green R1S Performance Dual Max equipped with a few optional extras, such as a $2,500 Forest Green paint job, $1,000 22-inch sport wheels, and a $750 “Darkout Package.” As equipped, the final price of this vehicle is $100,950.
Granted, this is a cool car, but my first impressions of it were less than Ideal.
“Software-defined” vehicles like the Rivian are packed with technology that makes things complicated
Many contemporary cars on the market, including EVs, are categorized as “software-defined” vehicles. These vehicles rely on software and wires rather than actual physical or mechanical connections for many functions. While this setup has its advantages, in my experience, it complicates everything.
From the driver’s seat, you may observe that the dashboard is sleek and exudes a “clean” look with few buttons, even for those on the steering wheel. However, prioritizing looks over actual, easy-to-use, tactile functions results in something that angers my inner cynic.
Want to change the temperature on the climate control? It’s on the big screen. Want to change where the vents aim and where the air blows? It’s also on the screen. Is the steering wheel position too uncomfortable? Too bad, the controls for that are also on the screen.
I realized that this car would be “different” when I was handed the keys, or lack thereof.
Unlike most “normal” cars, the “key” to this Rivian R1S is not a physical key, a key with an attached fob, or a key fob remote that enables keyless entry. I was given a key card akin to one used to open hotel rooms.
The “keycard” I was provided to unlock, lock and start the Rivian R1S
James Ochoa
Primarily, Rivian vehicles are registered to an account on the Rivian app, which uses the NFC capabilities of iPhones and Android smartphones to be used as the “key.” According to Rivian, the key card I was given is meant to supplement said key when you need “to share access to your vehicle with other drivers, service technicians or parking attendants” or when your phone battery runs out.
Rivian sells an actual key fob as a separate accessory on its website for $250; however, it is sold out at the time of writing.
Not for nothing, but the actual software that powers the functions on the big screen is very beautifully designed. As much as I could complain that the car had no Apple CarPlay or Android Auto, it felt amazing to be treated to stunning visuals that looked more like a 2000s Japanese video game than an iPad. According to Rivian, the part of the software we see on the screen is powered by Unreal Engine, a game engine developed by Epic Games.
Fun fact: the backbone of Rivian’s in-car software is also used as the backbone for popular video games like Fortnite.
James Ochoa
The Rivian R1S is fun to drive, but an important detail kept me from truly enjoying it
Despite the positives, the Rivian’s shortcomings became more evident the more I took it out on the road. The car’s sensations felt “artificial,” simultaneously alienating me from the whole “EV experience” and making me more skeptical about the future of cars.
After a day of driving strictly on highways, I wanted to see how this specific vehicle would fare on my favorite type of terrain: nature-filled backroads.
Before I describe what it was like to drive on those roads, I want to preface this by saying that, unlike many people, I don’t constantly listen to music on my drives.
I’ll play music here and there when I drive around with my family. But, I tend to listen to podcasts when commuting or doing everyday tasks, usually the latest episode on my Spotify queue. I have places to be.
But when I am alone on my favorite driving roads, I do not listen to music or podcasts—absolutely nothing but the sound of silence.
However, it doesn’t help that the damn car is also silent. It is so quiet that a pin drop or a hummingbird flying is louder.
This car was so silent that it made me second guess if I had tinnitus.
The Rivian R1S
James Ochoa
I don’t know about you, but the fun in driving a “normal” gas-powered car on my favorite roads comes from sensations of the senses. You can feel the car accelerate and hear the engine roar and backfire with amusement or fear.
In essence, the car fights you. Even behind the wheel of my compact Honda Civic, a backroad with swoops and curves feels like fighting an animal or an animalistic human being.
You fight the car to stay on course by commanding the steering wheel, gearbox, and pedals, listening to the car roar, spit, and belch, and feeling the car wrestle you and your passenger from the forces upon acceleration, deceleration, and lateral forces while taking corners.
When you take one element away, the sensation is gone; you’re just floating, going by without any sense of consciousness, as if you are under heavy anesthesia and still able to see things happen right in front of you.
Granted, these are minor annoyances; I feel most drivers won’t find this to be an issue, but this “x-factor” makes me feel “disconnected” from this car.
Without it, the Rivian feels less like a car and more like an appliance—an electronic gadget you buy at Best Buy.
It does the main thing too well to the point where it doesn’t shed any emotion. It functions like some sentient, overly loyal electric-powered butler, like Alfred Pennyworth in Christopher Nolan’s Batman movies.
If it shares any emotions, it’ll be in the form of errors or shutting down. During a drive exploring the Hudson Valley, I experienced what car troubles would feel like in the future; mind you, this felt scarier, unlike popping a tire or blowing a head gasket.
The Rivian R1S parked in Peekskill, NY. Before this photo was taken, the vehicle went into “limp mode” on me while driving.
James Ochoa
I experienced a full-on breakdown with this EV
After tackling the swooping curves of a mountain road near Bear Mountain State Park on the way to Peekskill, New York, I was inundated with a flurry of alerts warning me that many of the car’s functions and systems were “unavailable” or stopped functioning, including its collision mitigation sensors, regenerative braking system, air suspension system, and even its motors.
In the span of a split second, the screen in front of me lit up like a Christmas tree, and the car went into “limp mode.” It suddenly slowed me down from 45 miles per hour to just 20, angering the person tailgating me in the grey Subaru Legacy behind me.
After I found a place to pull over, vehicle support ran me through a “hard reset,” which felt akin to resetting an older iPhone when it started to slow down and freeze up.
You know, that process when you had to hold down the home and power buttons until you saw the Apple logo again? It felt exactly the same; I had to hold down one of the steering wheel buttons and the hazards until the Rivian logo returned on the screen.
In remarks published in February 2024, President Biden described today’s ‘connected’ cars as “smartphones on wheels,” but this feels like a step too far.
Way too far.
The Rivian R1S charging at an Electrify America charging station at the Woodbury Commons Premium Outlets in Central Valley, NY
James Ochoa
I also felt this sentiment during my experience charging the Rivian. Relying on publicly-available public EV chargers feels like having to charge my iPhone at Newark Airport. Some of the outlets scattered in the terminal are loose from constantly having plugs plugged into and out of them, and those that aren’t loose are occupied by people who are charging multiple devices.
During my experience charging the Rivian, I had to use a public charger at the Woodbury Commons outlet mall —an ordeal that took two hours of waiting for people to finish charging and dealing with the fact that it charges much slower than you expect.
Rivian’s reliance on software made me feel like I was thrown into the deep end of a blending of the digital and mechanical worlds, leaving me with a jarring impression of not only Rivian but the EV market as a whole.
If I have one thing to say to traditional automakers, startups, and other EV companies, it’s this: just because you make an electric car does not mean you have to reinvent the wheel.
EVs aren’t a relatively “young” or “new” technology. Heck, the first EVs were developed over 100 years ago, but automakers and startups that make EVs are chasing the industry’s “Impossible Burger moment.” Before Impossible Foods (in my opinion) made the best possible “plant-based ground meat replica,” other “veggie” and meatless burgers didn’t taste as good. As for cars, finding and prioritizing the best technologies will help make EVs become more mainstream.
The Rivian R1S parked at a scenic viewpoint near Bear Mountain State Park in New York
James Ochoa
The R1S and the existential future of cars
I intended to frame my experience as a peek into the future to learn firsthand about the kind of technology that will soon become mainstream. Still, given the circumstances, I think the transition to EVs will be much rougher than I previously anticipated.
I have no ill will against Rivian or its R1S. I humbly believe that the car I drove deserves all the flowers it has earned, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t entirely free from blemishes.
My reservations mainly come from an existential point of view. I am too young to talk like this, but people these days do not account for their deeper feelings and emotions regarding the possessions we acquire and the experiences we decide to partake in.
I understand that cars are expensive material objects. Still, in a society where one’s identity is defined not by character but by the media and food one consumes, the clothes one wears, and the car one drives, I fear that a second automotive “malaise era” triggered by automakers adopting EVs faster than their customers can adapt can affect the American psyche harder than any election could.
Why? I believe in the idea that mobility is freedom.
When I was a child, the idea of having a license and driving meant something. Turning 17 and having a license and access to a car, even the absolute worst beater or “hooptie,” was liberation in the form of four wheels.
You do not have to be a car enthusiast to feel enthusiastic about driving. Driving can be enjoyable, but unfortunately, cars like this—if the industry continues down this dark path of producing this type of car—makes me feel that driving, the idea of mobility, is more of a chore to maintain the mundane and less about feeling freedom from physical or mental bondage.
However, I am still confident about EVs and their future, despite many car enthusiasts my age and older who would quickly write off EVs as being “cringe” and oppose them on a philosophical or political level.
Related: EV charging is about to get much, much easier for frustrated owners
The future of EVs can only get better
Things can only go up from here.
Though I have taken both negative and positive lessons from my time with the Rivian R1S, it got me thinking about what would make “the perfect EV.”
For me, it starts with the battery. The range is an important selling point of any EV; the Rivian R1S I drove was rated for 410 miles, but achieving such a range requires a massive battery. According to Rivian, the R1S I drove has a 140 kWh battery, 40% larger than the biggest battery that Tesla offers in the Model X and Model S.
Whether you install a home charger or use the public charging plugs offered by companies like EVgo or Electrify America, you pay by the kilowatt. Though pricing can vary, charging a 140 kWh battery can get expensive. During my time with the Rivian, I had to charge it, and charging it to 80% required 100 kilowatts of electricity at 56 cents per kilowatt cost me $60.67, which included New York state sales tax.
Although an EV’s range is affected by external factors like weight and aerodynamics, a similar range with smaller batteries is achievable. Lucid’s new Air Pure has an EPA-estimated 420 miles of range from its 84 kWh battery pack.
Besides a smaller battery with an effective range, I would want an ideal EV to be somewhat “fun to drive.”
This is very subjective, but the Rivian can benefit from just a bit of artificial noise that emulates something resembling a motor. It doesn’t have to sound like a gasoline engine, but I would like something there to remind me that I am driving a car.
However, most importantly, this “perfect” EV should not cost an arm and a leg before EV tax credits. I get it; developing new software, motors, and battery technology is expensive.
Though many EVs on the market have base prices below and above Kelley Blue Book’s recorded average new car cost of $48,000, the Rivian’s prohibitive price tag sets a precedent that technology that could mobilize the proletariat is something exclusively for the well-to-do bourgeoisie.
Rivian’s R2, a smaller, $45,000 “baby” version of the R1, is set to debut in 2026, but smaller electric SUVs from trusted brands like Honda, Hyundai, and Chevrolet are already available at dealers.
Though I can make a wishlist about my perfect EV, my experience with the Rivian R1S has left me hungry for more for the future of this already promising technology.
DISCLAIMER: Rivian offered James Ochoa the opportunity to experience the Rivian R1S, and loaned the example he drove for this article for one week.
