Miles better

10:26am Tuesday 23rd September 2008

Comments (0)   Have your say »

With increased fuel costs, hypermiling – the art of driving economically – has become more popular.

Owen Amos fills up, watches his rev counter and becomes a convert.

I HAVE a new addiction. It’s not booze – yet – it’s not fags and, thankfully, it’s not drugs. It’s not even Chunky Kit Kats, though that’s not far off, either. No, my new addiction is hypermiling – the “art of driving economically”. And this is how it happened.

The challenge was simple: make your car as efficient as possible and measure it. In short, learn to hypermile. My car’s an X-reg, 1.25 Ford Fiesta. Or, for the sake of our female readers, it’s blue. With the petrol gauge a few pennies off empty, I stuck in £20 and drove normally.

So, tailgating an Audi at 85mph on the A1, I considered hypermiling, driving’s latest craze.

As petrol prices soared – from 95p a litre in July 2007, to 125p a litre in July 2008 – so, for obvious reasons, did hypermiling. In the US, it’s a sport, with world championships (held this year in Elkhart, Indiana) and world records (213 miles per gallon from a Honda Insight).

In the UK, it became big news after the launch of hypermiler.co.uk, Britain’s first hypermiling website. Founder Karl Dyson, 27, from Peterborough, said: “You start getting into competition with yourself, trying to improve your mpg.” Karl increased his average mpg from 43mpg to 59mpg – saving £400 a year – and has touched 90mpg.

MY driving, you’ll be shocked to hear, was a touch less efficient. After driving from Darlington to Newcastle and back, and a couple of trips to Richmond and back, my gauge was, once more, a few pennies off empty. My £20 – with petrol 110.9p – had taken me 148 miles.

My mpg was 37.4 – the Fiesta’s supposed to do 40 – and each mile cost 13.5p. In a year, I drive at least 9,000 miles. If petrol stays at 110.9p, my annual fuel bill will be £1,215. Gulp. It was time to hypermile.

The first tip, according to Karl’s site, is to remove excess weight, so my girlfriend was instantly banned. Only joking, love. But I did open the boot and take out the footballs, boots, cricket whites, jacket – I wondered where that went – and Kit Kat wrappers. I even found a fiver. See? Saving money already.

Next, I checked tyre pressure, as flat tyres increase drag. The recommended pressure for front tyres is 32, and mine – once I’d got the electronic inflater to work – were 26. They didn’t even look flat. Some naughty hypermilers over-inflate tyres. On the plus side, it saves a few pence. On the down side, it increases your chance of skidding into a tree.

But the key to hypermiling isn’t your girlfriend, or your tyres. It’s your technique. Speed is crucial. The faster you go, the harder your engine works and, crucially, the more air resistance it encounters. Driving at 70mph, for example, uses 20 per cent more fuel than 60mph. And you won’t get nicked on those country lanes.

So, instead of tailgating Audis, I tucked in and followed the lorries at 56mph. There were, though, three problems. One: it was slow. Two: it was boring. Three: it was really, really slow.

Arriva buses hurtled past, pubescent passengers gawping at the slowcoach below. I half expected Ian Botham, on his latest charity walk, to overtake me on the inside.

BUT, in time, glacier speed began to appeal.

Firstly, it was quieter. You don’t realise how loud 80mph is until you start racing milk floats. My radio seemed deafening.

Secondly, it was relaxing. I wasn’t constantly checking my mirrors, wary of the next bigwig on my bumper. I wasn’t sweating every time I saw a white van, parked by the road. And, best of all, I learnt every major haulier’s contact details.

Need a transport solution? I’ll provide website, phone and fax numbers.

Hypermilers also discourage braking as, effectively, it turns fuel into brake pad heat. It means driving defensively, though, not constantly crashing. So, instead of hurtling to roundabouts, or traffic lights and slamming the brakes, I took my foot off the gas – which stops fuel supply, even in gear – and slowed down naturally. After the roundabout, I accelerated gently, instead of trying – and failing – to make off like Richard Hammond.

My rev counter became must-see viewing. It hypnotised me, like a Magic Eye (remember those?). I couldn’t keep my eyes off it: every time the revs crept above 3,000, I slowed down, eager to save pennies. I slipped into fourth at 20mph and fifth at 30mph. First gear was like a Scottish pub: a bad place, best avoided.

The engine’s low rumbling, like a hungry stomach, sounded good. I’d done 148 miles, and the petrol warning light wasn’t on. Fantastic!

You know how good finding a pound feels, even though it’s just a pound? This was like finding a few pounds every time I filled up.

Eventually – after another trip to Newcastle, another two trips to Richmond and some bonus miles – it was time to fill up. I’d done 178 miles.

My mpg was 45.0, five better than the handbook.

Each mile cost 11.2p, so, if I hypermiled, my annual fuel bill would be £208 less. That’s an MOT and service each year – or, if you fill up once a week, like finding £4 at the pump each time. And, apparently, it reduces my carbon footprint. Whatever that is.

Since the experiment, I’m a changed driver.

I no longer burn at 80mph, or fly at roundabouts.

Okay, I don’t follow lorries – that’s too boring – but I join grannies in the inside lane.

I’m still hypnotised by the rev counter and I still pop into fifth at 30mph. Now, I have one question: how do I get to Elkhart, Indiana?