EMISSIONS:Hypermiling is the new, seamless way to save fuel, it appears to many - or does it? wonders Kilian Doyle.
THIS WEEK, I have mostly been hypermiling. For the uninitiated, hypermiling is not some mentalist extreme sport practised by stick-thin Ethiopian runners with lungs the size of racehorses, nor is it driving while jacked-up on litres of espressos, although I have been known to engage in the latter pursuit often enough.
Rather, it is the obsessive pursuit of extracting the maximum possible fuel efficiency from one's car engine. Sounds riveting, eh? In these days when petrol costs more per litre than the blood of angels, it's all the rage, don'tcha know.
According to one hypermiling website, the most eco-friendly alteration you can make to your car is to "adjust the nut behind the wheel". How droll. Hypermilers employ all manner of tricks - some obvious, some cunning, some downright dangerous - to increase their MPG rating.
These range from turning off the air-conditioning to lightening the car's load by taking out the back seats to removing roof-racks and covering the radiator grille with cardboard for aerodynamic reasons.
Hypermilers also shun idling, accelerating wildly, using rough roads, sitting in traffic, headwinds and driving in the rain (which goes a long way to explaining the dearth of Irish hypermilers).
Now, here's where it gets silly. Some hypermilers over-inflate their tyres to cut friction, safety bedamned. Others "draft" within inches of huge trucks, thus reducing their wind resistance and fuel usage. Not to mention their chances of getting to their destination unpulverised.
These loons also turn off their engines while cruising down hills, and coast up to traffic lights in neutral. Advanced hypermilers have even been known to drive with one set of tyres on the white lane markers to reduce friction. And the life expectancy of cyclists, pedestrians and anyone else in the hard shoulder.
Most controversial of all, hardcore hypermilers refuse to use their brakes. Ever. Braking uses too much energy, apparently.
Hypermilers, predictably, overwhelmingly drive hybrids. Which immediately puts me - driving a trusty 1975 BMW chariot as I do - at an obvious disadvantage.
In preparation for my hypermiling experiment, I convinced The Irish Timesto bribe the Government €10 billion to replace every potholed road within 300 kilometres of my rural demesne with downward-sloping highways paved with solid low-resistance gold.
I've been driving down these roads in the nude (to save weight, honest) at exactly 56km/h. I've been tailgating lorries, taking the racing line, weaving through traffic and never stopping, no matter what. I've also been driving solely on sunny days with hurricane-strength tailwinds.
I'm saving a fortune in petrol. And spending a thousand times what I save on fines and legal fees. But I feel good about it.
As do most hypermilers. The internet forums where they congregate to swop tips and photos of their odometers are puke-inducing smugfests. So what if their perilous anti-social antics are driving other motorists nuts? Do you think they care, as long as they save a dollar a week on gas?
Difficult though it may be to comprehend, hypermilers are even more crushingly boring than classic car owners. Considering I am now both, I strongly advise you to run a hypermile if you ever get stuck beside me at a dinner party.
Otherwise, you will have to fork yourself in the face repeatedly to stay awake, while I regale you with my tales of achieving a magnificent planet-saving 28 mpg. Aren't I just great?
Of course, the best way to save fuel - and, being a classic car owner, this is something I have plenty of experience of - is to get out and push.
Doubtless, this is something you are loath to do. As an incentive, did you know that every time you use a litre of petrol unnecessarily, God kills a kitten? A really cute fluffy one. I'm just saying. No pressure. On your own conscience be it.
