It's hot in here. The A/C is off, and I've got the windows sealed tight to maximize my aerodynamic efficiency. I don't think the radio reduces the output of my Honda Insight's IMA system, but I have it off just in case. All I can hear is the quiet hum of the tires as I try to keep my speedo green and the gas engine from firing up.
0:00 / 0:00
Beads of sweat begin to develop on my brow. I'm in Arizona, at the launch of the all-new Honda Insight, running a special fuel-economy road loop, but feel like this could be Australia, circa 1987. That was the year GM's Sunraycer won the inaugural World Solar Challenge.
Okay, it's not quite Darwin-to-Adelaide hot, and we're certainly not running on solar power, but things are definitely heating up. Especially behind me. What appear to be local representatives of the Arizona Monster Truck association are stacking up and flashing their lights. But I'm holding firm-if sweaty -- determined to keep my Insight's leaves growing and the speedo glowing green. Too bad these first few miles have many stops, turns, and long, gradual hills-just the kind of the topology hybrids hate.
Right around mile 10 of this 16-mile loop, we peak and the climbing stops. So do the nasty looks and one-finger salutes. We can now run with traffic instead of holding it up. I breathe easy, shift into neutral, and coast most of the way, hitting speeds upward of 40-45 mph and stopping (okay, rolling) only for the two stop signs.
I pull in, soaked and elated: My instantaneous average looks to be 63.7 mpg through this mostly city course. That's over 20 mpg higher than the 43 mpg those ninnies at the EPA got on the highway.
Comparing notes with the other journalists, I'm deflated upon finding I'm below our group average of 65 mpg. One guy hit 68.2, while "hypermiling" expert Wayne Gerdes of cleanmpg.com hit 69.4-without even trying.
What gives? Honda's powertrain engineer, Takemoto-san tells me shifting into neutral is not the way to go since it keeps the engine running. "On the downhill, tip in the throttle just enough to activate the battery, but keep the valves shut on the engine," he advises. Well, duh.
Gerdes, fresh off setting the 48-state mileage record (68.5 mpg in a Honda Civic Hybrid), concurs and gives me more advice. But it's like taking racing tips from Schumacher. "Pulse and glide on the climbs. Never use cruise control. 'Fast' [force an engine stop] on the downhills," he says. "And be sure to let the 'rabbits' [faster moving traffic] trigger the stoplights ahead." His hypermiling jargon sets my head is spinning, so I try clearing it with another run in the Insight-this time driving like an MT editor.
With Kanye wailing, "Oh, how could you be sooo heartless..." and the A/C set to a breezy 72 degrees, I pass people at nearly every opportunity, cruise above the posted speed limit, but come to full stops at every light and stop sign. Incline, decline, I don't care: I have the pedal down and the speedo is almost always glowing cool blue. It may be bad, but it feels sooo good. Eco Guide looks like digital matchstick collection-not a single leaf left as I pull across the finish line. Pitiful. But when I look at my average, I find the damage to be 42.1 mpg. Not bad-about a tick under EPA highway, but 2.1 mpg better than the EPA city. Plus, I'm sweat-free and relaxed.
When I go back and talk to Gerdes, I find that, by using some of his advanced techniques (you don't want to know), he just hypermiled the Prius to a stunning 95.2 mpg. He's almost embarrassed about it, given that this is a Honda event. "The Prius is made for this kind of route," he says, shaking his head, "I need more time with the Insight."
I used to go kick tires with my dad at local car dealerships. I was the kid quizzing the sales guys on horsepower and 0-60 times, while Dad wandered around undisturbed. When the salesmen finally cornered him, I'd grab as much of the glossy product literature as I could carry. One that still stands out to this day: the beautiful booklet on the Mitsubishi Eclipse GSX that favorably compared it to the Porsches of the era. I would pore over the prose, pictures, specs, trim levels, even the fine print, never once thinking that I might someday be responsible for the asterisked figures "*as tested by Motor Trend magazine." My parents, immigrants from Hong Kong, worked their way from St. Louis, Missouri (where I was born) to sunny Camarillo, California, in the early 1970s. Along the way, Dad managed to get us into some interesting, iconic family vehicles, including a 1973 Super Beetle (first year of the curved windshield!), 1976 Volvo 240, the 1977 Chevrolet Caprice Classic station wagon, and 1984 VW Vanagon. Dad imbued a love of sports cars and fast sedans as well. I remember sitting on the package shelf of his 1981 Mazda RX-7, listening to him explain to my Mom - for Nth time - what made the rotary engine so special. I remember bracing myself for the laggy whoosh of his turbo diesel Mercedes-Benz 300D, and later, his '87 Porsche Turbo. We were a Toyota family in my coming-of-age years. At 15 years and 6 months, I scored 100 percent on my driving license test, behind the wheel of Mom's 1991 Toyota Previa. As a reward, I was handed the keys to my brother's 1986 Celica GT-S. Six months and three speeding tickets later, I was booted off the family insurance policy and into a 1983 Toyota 4x4 (Hilux, baby). It took me through the rest of college and most of my time at USC, where I worked for the Daily Trojan newspaper and graduated with a biology degree and business minor. Cars took a back seat during my stint as a science teacher for Teach for America. I considered a third year of teaching high school science, coaching volleyball, and helping out with the newspaper and yearbook, but after two years of telling teenagers to follow their dreams, when I wasn't following mine, I decided to pursue a career in freelance photography. After starving for 6 months, I was picked up by a tiny tuning magazine in Orange County that was covering "The Fast and the Furious" subculture years before it went mainstream. I went from photographer-for-hire to editor-in-chief in three years, and rewarded myself with a clapped-out 1989 Nissan 240SX. I subsequently picked up a 1985 Toyota Land Cruiser (FJ60) to haul parts and camera gear. Both vehicles took me to a more mainstream car magazine, where I first sipped from the firehose of press cars. Soon after, the Land Cruiser was abandoned. After a short stint there, I became editor-in-chief of the now-defunct Sport Compact Car just after turning 30. My editorial director at the time was some long-haired dude with a funny accent named Angus MacKenzie. After 18 months learning from the best, Angus asked me to join Motor Trend as senior editor. That was in 2007, and I've loved every second ever since.
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