Recent frigid weather in North America has led to an interesting line of complaints. Some Tesla owners have been unhappy about how some features have performed, particularly the batteries. CEO Elon Musk tweeted last month that improvements were on the way. Longtime politician and businessman Greg Sorbara recounts playing with fire on a chilly January evening.

One of my favourite movies is Apollo 13. I vividly remember those scenes where the three shivering astronauts, Lovell, Swigert and Haise, are barrelling through space in a tiny frigid capsule, unsure whether they had enough electrical power to make their way home to Mother Earth. The shots of frost forming around the capsule’s windows were particularly haunting.

Last month, I had an Apollo 13-like journey, not in a space capsule but in my beloved Tesla Model S.

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Of course my journey was insignificant in comparison to the Apollo saga. I was simply trying to get from a tennis club at Dupont and Christie in midtown Toronto to my home in Richmond Hill. During evening rush hour it is normally a slow but steady 23-kilometre drive straight up Bathurst St. I’d made this trip hundreds of times in all seasons.

The difference this January night was that the temperature was extra-cold even by Toronto standards and to my surprise my Tesla had only 50 kilometres of electricity remaining as I set out. Foolishly I had neglected to charge the batteries at home the night before.

What only Tesla owners know is that the “km remaining” read out on the dash is deceptive. It assumes normal driving conditions. But electric cars use far more electricity in cold weather. At these low temperatures I estimated that I could travel one kilometre for each two kilometres in the readout. At best I could get 25 kilometres from the energy left in the batteries. But with no Tesla charging stations on route, my only option was to try to make it home with the electricity I had.

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In a calmer moment, the dashboard's digital gauge indicates 336 kilometres of charge remaining in Sorbara's Tesla. (J.P. MOCZULSKI)

Things started out badly and got worse. It was snowing and traffic was mostly at a standstill. It took 10 minutes to drive the 200 metres along Dupont before turning north onto Bathurst. I realized then that I would need to shut down every auxiliary demand on the Tesla batteries. That meant no radio, no headlights and no sources of heat in the car. Every five minutes or so, I would turn on the wipers and defroster for 30 seconds to maintain safe visibility.

As traffic inched along I began to shiver uncontrollably. I was driving in a way that conserved as much electricity as possible. Minimal acceleration, minimal braking. I relied as much as possible on the Tesla’s ability to coast. More than a few fellow travellers honked horns or flashed headlights or both.

Halfway home the readout showed 20 km. It look less and less likely that I would make it. I had visions of the car dying in the middle of the road. I could almost hear the curses of drivers as they inched by me. Would there be any power left to turn emergency flashers on? I started to make plans to find a parking lot where a tow truck could complete the journey home to warmth and a place to plug in and recharge. That would mean waiting for hours in the cold for help — an unpleasant and costly rescue mission that I wanted to avoid.

Aside from the lack of headlights, I committed only one major traffic infraction. With just 10 kilometres left on the readout, I came to a red traffic light at a minor intersection. There was no oncoming traffic. I simply ignored the light and glided my way through. Had I been pulled over the journey would have ended there and then. The batteries would die while I tried to explain my predicament to a cranky, overworked traffic cop.

Over the next two kilometres the snowfall eased but the frost on the windshield thickened. Twenty more seconds for the defroster helped but not that much. Now I was getting close enough so I could imagine ditching the car on an accommodating side street and walking the rest of the way home.

Finally things started to go my way. No more red lights and far less traffic. As I turned into my neighbourhood the indicator read “1 km” and I was half a kilometre from home. Then, at last, I was at my driveway. I had landed.

As I walked in the door, my wife, seeing that I was shivering, asked me where I had been and what had happened. An image of a shivering Tom Hanks flashed in my head. I answered with a question: “Do you remember watching Apollo 13?”