A Car Crush Confession—

I ? My Prius

By Nancy K. Crevier

“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth, and breadth, and height my soul can reach…”

If 19th Century poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning had owned a Prius hybrid, this poem would more likely have been directed at her vehicle, rather than a mere human.

I have never been a big car person. I have had my license since the day I turned 16, but I have always been happy to drive whatever vehicle happened to be in my garage. As long as it had four wheels and was reliable, I was pretty happy.

Then I saw a Prius hybrid. It was love at first sight. It was around eight years ago and the lovely, streamlined little vehicle slid silently into a parking spot at the garden center where I then worked. Never before had an automobile turned my head, but I could not take my eyes off of the wheeled wonder. The wedge-shaped body, the quiet engine, the narrow wheels beckoned to me in a way no other vehicle ever had before. I found myself engaged in conversation with its owner, curious to know more about this odd Japanese entry into the American market. The little I found out was enough to further whet my appetite. Even in a day when gasoline was nowhere near the $3 a gallon price it is now, I was enamored of a car that boasted remarkable mileage and had a lower imprint on the environment than any other car of its time. And it looked cool.

But I was not in the market for a car in 1999, and my short-lived infatuation for the Prius faded as friends and family cautioned me about new technology not yet well tested and scorned the narrow tires that were part of the early Prius make-up. It was a rare sight to see a Prius on the road, but when I did, I still found my eye lingered on it long after it disappeared over the horizon.

Then came 2006. Two Ford Windstars and a Toyota Highlander later, I was tired of herding around a big vehicle on the road and even more tired of paying the astronomical gas bill each month. I felt guilty about the amount of fossil fuel I used and the quantity of CO2 I was putting into the atmosphere. I did not foresee my driving habits changing a whole lot, still having a family that needed chaperone services. The little Prius had been picking up steam in the news, however, and with my lease up for renewal, I knew this was the moment.

There was no negotiating price a year ago for a Prius. There was not even a Prius on any nearby lot to test drive. I apparently had not been the only one lusting after the economical car that was receiving rave reviews in car magazines and on the news. I hesitated. I test drove other vehicles, always feeling as though I was cheating on my heart.

I questioned myself and tried to rationalize: how could I possibly buy a car I couldn’t even take around the block? Why should I buy a car after hearing horror stories of back orders that numbered in the months? Was it reasonable to buy a car without the traditional headache of negotiating?

I wavered. Time was running out on my lease. If I was going to own a Prius, I had to commit, and even then, I had my doubts as to whether I would have my dream car in the few weeks left until my lease expired. It just was not practical.

Then I had the chance to not only sit in a Prius being prepped for another customer, but a chance encounter through work gave me the opportunity to actually get behind the wheel of one and take a spin around the block. I was in love again.

I ordered my Prius. And waited. And waited. And watched the days turn into weeks and the weeks draw nearer to the time I had to give up my lease. It looked like I would be walking to work. Then the phone call came. There was a Prius. It was not the green Prius I had ordered (that is a whole ‘nother story) but it was mine for the taking.

I pulled out of the lot in my ocean blue Prius a year ago July. With an instrument panel aligned far forward on the dashboard at eye level, buttons and options like no other car I had ever driven, a touchpad screen to tell me my fuel consumption and energy usage, a little-bitty wide-angle backup camera above the back bumper that displayed everything directly behind the car on the screen, complete with big truck beeping, and the startling silence when paused at a stoplight, I felt like a technological wizard behind the wheel. And I felt a little smug, I will admit, knowing that I was using less fossil fuel than many other cars in town and doing my small bit to save the world.

Our relationship has not been without the disappointments that plague any love affair. The seats are hard slabs that lack cushioning and I have harbored resentment about that after a three-hour drive. The front seat storage container is set back at an odd angle that defies reaching into while driving and there is no under-seat storage. My in-town trips are usually too short to achieve maximum mileage, but I am whining about getting 45 or 46 miles to the gallon around town. I actually get better mileage on the highway, but I do think that my Prius has led me astray in believing I would ever get the 60 mpg promised in her literature, no matter how I “hyper drive” (as one blog suggested) or analyze my every driving action.

I have slowly forged an understanding with my Prius and I have valiantly tried to answer the many questions that come my way. I do not even pretend to understand the technology behind this vehicle, but this is what I have come to know about driving my Prius. (Referring to the owner’s manual, I have discovered, only leads to more questions.)

I do not have to plug in my Prius to recharge it. It magically recharges itself through some sort of regained kinetic energy thing every time I brake, if I understood the salesperson correctly. There is no sound of shifting, because the Prius has something called a continuously variable transmission.

This also means that I do not have a regular shift. The shift is more like a joy stick that pops over to “Drive” and then pops right back into its starting position. There is also a “Brake” position. I asked several Prius owners and the salesperson what this meant and got a variety of answers having to do with returning energy to the batteries and using it on long downhill stretches. I finally asked the Toyota service center, and was told to essentially ignore it unless I was on a long, snow-covered hill. According to the service center, this “Braking” position decreases mileage performance, which is the opposite of my goal.

The energy usage screen with pictures of the batteries and engine and computations of what I am using, and when, was a little distracting at first, and not even the service center can tell me the point of the graphs of tiny cars that pile up on the screen. (“Just gimmicks,” was the serviceperson’s expert answer.) I do know the cars indicate something to do with how much energy I am returning to the batteries, so I confess to feeling like I’ve hit the lottery when I “win” lots of cars….

The car stops running when at a stop light. She shudders and goes silent, but that does not mean the engine has died. It just feels that way. When I am ready to go, I step on the gas and we’re off.

I have a key, but it is rather unconventional in its looks and does not turn in an ignition. I have only removed it from the fob once, to look at it. As I understand it, I can set it into the rectangular slot where one would normally find an ignition, but why bother? As long as it is in my purse, pocket, or somewhere within three feet of the vehicle, I press the power button and the car starts. This is the perfect car for me. I am notorious for forgetting my bag everywhere I go, but with the key always in my purse, I cannot get too far without it. This has saved me many miles of frantic return trips to reclaim my purse already this past year.

My Prius has more than enough get up and go on the highway. Apparently, there is an ongoing conversation in the engine something like, “Hey, do you need some gas to help you up the hill?” “Yes, please.” “Is that enough?” “That’s fine, the gas can back off now and let us batteries do our thing.” Or something like that. Whatever the case may be, there is never a sense of straining or a concern that we will not quite make it past that tractor trailer.

I have mourned the fact that mileage is not as good in the winter, because the heater is taking energy from the batteries. I do like my car toasty warm in the cold months, so this means the gas kicks in a lot more often. Again, I am whimpering about getting 41 or 42 mpg. I cannot explain why this does not happen in the summer when I run the electric air conditioner. It remains a mystery to me, but sometimes in affairs of the heart, a bit of mystery is fine.

How much do I love my Prius?

I hand-washed my Prius the first several months, not entrusting her to anyone else. I pick up the wrappers from her floor and I have glass wipes in the glove compartment to clean the screen. I dust her dashboard, something I have not done for any other car I have ever owned. I check her for scratches and look for places to park at the supermarket where I am least likely to get bashed by a cart.

I talk to my car. I apologize when we travel over rutted roads or drive through a cloud of dust. If someone makes a disparaging remark — pure jealousy, no doubt — I later whisper an apology to my Prius. (I swear, this is not my normal modus operandi around cars.)

I like the happy hum she gives when I turn off the power. Again, I do not know the meaning of it but  I do know that she is supposed to make that noise. I imagine it as a giant sigh, or the contented purr of a cat.

I also point out other Priuses when I am driving, and I am happy to report that the number seems to swell each day. I feel a kinship with other Prius owners, and now I understand that “Jeep Thing.”

How do I love thee, Prius? To the depth of my pocketbook when I pay for gas and get back change. And then some.