If my 45-minute drive yesterday morning is anything to go by, I think Slate Auto will have quite the hit on its hands. The startup had one of its prototype trucks in town and asked if I wanted to check it out—no jumping on a plane or having to spend yet another night in an interchangeable hotel room, just a drive from southwest DC to Rockville, Maryland. Easy-peasy.
The prototype truck had been well-used, with almost 6,000 miles (9,656 km) showing on the small and minimalist but very legible digital display that also shows your speed and, if you engage reverse, the backup camera. And while the cabin layout was representative of the production version, the surfaces most certainly weren’t—the prototype instead uses a lot of hard and shiny black plastic, with strips of Velcro here and there left over from when the interior had to be camouflaged when the vehicle was out in public.
Getting acquainted with the Slate was refreshingly easy. The Morris Marina-like door handles open with a pleasing mechanical action. The seat and steering column adjust manually but with plenty of reach, something many budget models used to leave out to save on cost.
The key fob slots into the dash to turn it on, and there’s a column shifter to select from drive, neutral, park, and reverse. Set your mirrors first—also by hand—and it’s time to go. Visibility from the two-seat cab is good, and even though the Slate is on the smaller side, it’s as tall as most other crossovers at 68 inches (1.7 m), so you still sit relatively high up, certainly compared to a sedan.
I still remember how to use a manual window winder, and the three dials on the dash for making it hotter, colder, and more or less windy inside approach the platonic ideal for car climate controls. Had we needed navigation, a phone mount on the dash would have done the job, but the area they now call North Bethesda is familiar ground from my past life in science policy, and the roads were mostly where I remember leaving them, so I could just concentrate on the drive.
I’d have to describe it as refreshingly simple. That word again, but I can’t help it—the Slate really is the antithesis (in a good way) of so much of what we are being offered by the automotive industry right now, especially here in North America. The steering is direct and well-assisted for the truck’s 4,048 lb (1,836 kg) curb weight, and the suspension controls the body well. It’s easy to maneuver and park. It doesn’t have an especially supple ride, but the De Dion rear axle and coil springs must be able to cope with up to 1,500 lbs (680 kg) of cargo in the bed.
With a zero to 60 mph (97 km/h) time of 8 seconds, acceleration is a little slower than a Chevrolet Bolt. But the instant pickup from the 181 hp (135 kW), 195 lb-ft (264 Nm) motor means it’s still very zippy. Right now, there’s a fixed amount of lift-off regenerative braking and default one-pedal driving. At low speeds, the amount of lift-off regen braking was more aggressive than any other EV I’ve driven recently, bringing the Slate to a halt tens of feet earlier than you initially expect, although this was easy to calibrate my driving to after a few minutes.
Whether it was the black interior or the lack of frills, driving the Slate most reminded me of the few days I spent earlier this summer in Italy with a Fiat Panda rental car. Yes, the Fiat rolled a lot more when cornering. And it kept things even more old-school with a six-speed manual transmission that felt like stirring a bucket of rocks with a rubber spatula (while still adding to the fun). But both share a simple honesty and embrace the utilitarian rather than making any pretentious claims to luxury. And they’re both charming as a result.
Of course, having a compelling product is only part of the challenge for Slate; mass production still needs to happen. As long as the company can pull that off, I think American drivers will like what it’s selling.

