Electric microcars are a tricky to define subset of motor vehicles, especially in the US. Open-air neighborhood electric vehicles, fancy golf carts, and other small vehicles tend to blur the line, leaving microcars in that weird category of “I know it when I see it.” Now after recently test-driving one myself from the New York-based startup Wink Motors, now I definitely know it.
There are a few different street-legal microcar-style EVs in the US, but most take the form of golf cart-style buggies. Some are even actual golf carts that have been souped up with the required hardware to make them street legal. That leaves Wink as pretty much the only low-cost, car-like, and street-legal microcar in the US, at least for now.
What is a microcar?
To be more precise, these types of tiny electric vehicles aren’t actually “cars” in a legal sense. They’re street-legal motor vehicles in the US, but they actually fit into a different category in the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration’s motor vehicle designations.
It’s a classification known as low-speed vehicles (LSVs), which have a reduced number of regulatory requirements compared to highway-capable cars. They are permitted to travel at speeds of up to 25 mph (40 km/h), and can travel on roads with posted speed limits up to 35 mph (56 km/h), provided they meet a shorter list of safety and manufacturing regulations.
However, it’s so difficult to actually meet those regulations that there just aren’t very many street-legal LSVs available in the US. We’re starting to see some new entries into the market such as interesting truck-like LSVs, though the pickings are still slim.
But if you want a fully enclosed car-like LSV with the type of accoutrements you’d normally find in a “real” car (A/C, power locks and windows, infotainment system, hatchback, etc.), then Wink Motors is basically the only street-legal option. There are some imported Chinese LSV-type vehicles starting to become available in the US (I imported one myself), but they aren’t street legal as they aren’t manufactured to federal standards nor are they registered with the DOT.
To actually get out on public roads as I did, that requires a street-legal LSV like the ones I tested from Wink. Check out what it’s like to drive one of these things in my video review below. Then keep reading for the entire experience.
Wink Motors test ride video
LSVs in the USA
I’ve actually watched Wink Motors grow over the last 18 months or so and even did some consulting during the design phase, giving me a unique look at the development process.
The company’s four models (Sprout, Sprout Solar, Mark 1, and Mark 2 Solar) are produced in Asia to US regulatory designs, and even exceed US regulations in several areas related to safety and ruggedness.
And when I climbed into one these vehicles for the first time last week in New York City, I was surprised to see just how much like a “real” car it felt. Considering they cost less than many golf carts (the Wink Sprout LSV starts at around US $9,000), there’s a surprising amount of car-like qualities.
While many cheaper Chinese micro-cars have a simple bench seat up front, Wink’s models have bucket seats that look more like you’d find in a conventional sedan. The paint is surprisingly high-quality metal-flake paint like you’d find on nicer cars, and they even have some cool features like an automatic parking brake that functions as a hill-hold feature. It engages after three seconds of holding the brake pedal, and automatically releases as soon as you touch the accelerator pedal.
The four different Wink models are fairly unique on the inside, with the lower-cost Sprout and Sprout Solar having a different body style from the more Mini-shaped Mark 1 and Mark 2 Solar. All the models are four-seaters, those the first three are two-door coupes that require you to tilt the front seat forward on either side to access the rear seats. The US $12,000 Mark 2 Solar is the only four-door model, and it’s interior was probably my favorite of the bunch. Though a quick word to the wise: You can save $150 on any of the models by using the discount code ELECTREK.
While the Mark 2 Solar had a nicer interior, the lighter Sprout model felt a bit peppier off the line, likely due to the smaller vehicle’s lower weight. They all share the same 3,500W motor, but the Sprout’s weight of 760 lb. (345 kg) compared to the Mark 2 Solar’s 1,250 lb. (567 kg) curb weight helps it squirt out even quicker.
Of course both models limited me to a maximum speed of 25 mph (40 km/h), but that didn’t really seem to be an issue 99% of the time. The average speed of traffic in Manhattan is 4.7 mph (7.5 km/h), meaning it doesn’t matter how much power your car has — everyone is crawling around like snails there.
I drove around Manhattan and Brooklyn, and in fact the only time I ever ran into the software-controlled speed limit was on the Brooklyn Bridge. With a posted limit of 35 mph (56 km/h) on the bridge, I was legally allowed to drive it in an LSV, but of course I had to stick to the right lane as most traffic moved faster than me.
Interestingly, traffic in the left lane wasn’t really moving that much faster than me, though I think it might have been because everyone was driving slowly past me while staring at my tiny car.
It’s a pretty strange sight, I’ll admit. But perhaps it won’t be that strange for long as more people begin adopting tiny cars.
As I experienced first hand during my NYC test driving, these are pretty much perfect vehicles for the city.
It was a cold and dreary winter day in New York, but I was comfortable in the climate-controlled cabin. It wasn’t raining, but if it was I would have been dry under a roof and behind automotive glass with windshield wipers (or rather a single wiper).
When it came to the chaotic traffic of NYC, I was able to slip around cars driving down the lane dividers and wiggle past double parkers without even leaving my lane.
And don’t even get me started on parking. The Wink Sprout is short enough to reasonably park perpendicular to the curb, nose in. But parallel parking is super easy too. I was able to wiggle in and out of parking spaces that were smaller than just the footprint of a typical sedan, let alone the extra space they would need to get in and out of the spot.
I don’t know exactly how much battery I actually used due to the rather simple pictographic display on the battery meter, but it didn’t look like I made much of a dent in the charge level of either vehicle as I still had full bars. With big (for a tiny car) 6 kWh LiFePO4 batteries, the Wink LSVs are said to have somewhere between 40-60 miles of range (64-96 km). And since two of the models include rooftop solar panels, the range is theoretically even higher.
The solar panels aren’t terribly high power, peaking at around 100-200W depending on how sunny it is. They’ll probably put around 5-8 miles (8-13 km) of range back into the battery each day. But for someone that parks outside and only drives 25-40 miles (40-65 km) per week in the city, that could mean that you never need to charge.
When it does come time to charge, the Sprout model has a charger similar to an e-bike. Basically, it’s a brick that plugs into a typical home 120V outlet and the other end plugs into the car’s outlet, which is hidden behind what looks like a normal fuel-door on a typical car. The Mark 1 and Mark 2 Solar models have on-board chargers, so you only need the connector and an extension cord, no off-board charger required.
How safe are LSVs?
There’s no beating around the bush here, LSVs are not as safe as conventional vehicles. They aren’t required to undergo crash testing, and thus they don’t have the same level of crumple zones or other crash-related safety design. They also aren’t required to include airbags.
At a minimum, they must have at least a DOT-certified lap-belt, though Wink built its LSVs with safer three-point seat belts used in traditional vehicles. They’re the same units you’d find in normal cars, and I even had that annoying situation where you lean forward quickly to reach something and the inertial lock kicks in, forcing you to sit back and more slowly leans forward again to allow the seat belt to spool out. Nothing screams “real car” like when the seat belt inertial lock activates.
Other areas are also above and beyond what you’d expect from a tiny car. There’s no regulation on the style or function of braking systems in LSVs – only that they have them and have a functional parking brake. Not only does Wink use oversized hydraulic disc brakes that belong on a much larger vehicle, but they use a dual-circuit hydraulic system that provides a redundancy even if there’s ever damage to one of the hydraulic lines. The parking brake is on an entirely separate mechanical system outside of the hydraulic system, offering yet another redundant braking backup.
At a certain point though it doesn’t matter how pro-level the seat belts are or how overbuilt the braking system is, since in a collision with a semi truck, my money isn’t on the Wink. But then again, my money wouldn’t be on the cyclist or the motorcycle rider either. And I commute on those two-wheelers daily. I’m also extra aware of my surroundings when I’m on a bike, which is how I felt when I was in a Wink. I was be extra cognizant of my surroundings, more than how many of us are guilty of almost getting on mental autopilot when behind the wheel of a car.
So I don’t mean to minimize the reduced safety aspect of LSVs. They don’t have the same impact resistance as cars. But we all take on a level of risk that we are comfortable with each time we enter the road. And since LSVs generally travel on lower speed roads (and at lower speeds themselves), airbags and crumple zones just aren’t as critical on an LSV as they are for highway-speed vehicles. Driving around NYC, I rarely saw myself or other cars reaching any speed that started with a “2,” and I never really felt like I was taking on any significant risk. I was at the same height as other drivers, in a brightly colored vehicle traveling the same speed as them, and none of us wanted to pay for damage to each other’s cars, so we all basically respected each other’s fenders and agreed to not swap paint.
What’s the use case?
As someone who mostly gets around by e-bike and e-motorcycle, driving any form of car is foreign to me – even a tiny electric car. But if I had to be stuck behind glass in a four-wheeler in a city, an LSV seems like the best way I’d want to do it.
The vehicle is small, nimble, easy to maneuver and best of all, it’s pretty darn cheap. At between US $9K-$12K, it’s the price of a nice golf cart, yet offers so much more (and don’t forget that $150 discount with the code ELECTREK).
And they even feel almost like a real car, despite some fit and finish shortcomings (the panels on the interiors of the doors look and feel fairly cheap, as does the funny little accessory plastic fan on the passenger A-pillar). Another area that removes you from feeling like a real car is the lack of sound-proofing. You hear the outside world nearly as well whether the windows are up or down. For example, the pedestrian warning noisemaker, which is an annoying external noise that is projected to warn blind or smartphone-blinded pedestrians of an electric vehicle’s presence, is quite audible even inside the car.
I know that the device is required by law and is part of what makes the vehicle street legal (in fact, electric LSVs without noisemakers aren’t in compliance with federal standards). But if this were my personal car, you can bet I’d be crawling under the chassis with a wirecutter looking for that speaker.
But despite those shortcomings that remind you of how this isn’t a real car, there are so many other aspects that try to convince you otherwise.
I was even unlucky enough to somehow get a flat tire halfway through my test drive – I blame all those construction trucks in NYC dropping nails and other crap on the roads. As annoying as it was, it was a chance to test the cute little jack and lug wrench that comes in the car’s tool kit. The whole vehicle almost feels like you could just have a buddy lift up the corner while you swap the tire, but the adorable little scissor jack had a similar effect and ensures a single person can change a wheel by him or herself. A few minutes later, the equally adorable spare tire was on and I was back in action.
I don’t expect that millions of Americans are going to switch to tiny cars overnight. But after testing a pair of them on the streets in real everyday driving scenarios, I can see how they’d work for a lot of people.
I still prefer the open air feeling of a bike, but there are times where it’d be nice to take three friends somewhere, and my bike can’t do that. It also doesn’t have a hatchback with a flip-down rear bench seat for cargo storage. Nor does it have locking doors if I want to leave stuff in the vehicle. So yeah, I can see some advantages.
If you live off of a 50 mph (80 km/h) road, then an LSV probably isn’t for you. Bummer.
But if you live in a city, a suburb or a beach community, I can definitely see the use case. I can even imagine sharing one with friends in a city. Even $10K is a bit rich for my blood when I probably wouldn’t use the vehicle all too often. But if I shared it with a friend or two for those times that we simply needed more space for cargo or people, now that’d be an interesting proposition.
Is it worth it?
At between $9K to $12K depending on the model, Wink Motors is one of the most affordable LSV options in the US. It’s priced similarly to a golf cart, and when you consider that comparison, it sounds like a steal.
Of course the flip side to that argument is what I like to call the “Used Nissan Leaf Case.” This is a fun little game that my readers like to play in the comment section of my articles where for nearly any type of e-bike, e-moped, or e-microcar I cover that is priced over a few thousand dollars, they counter with “I could buy a used Nissan Leaf for that much.”
And that’s fair. But I’d counter back that a used Nissan Leaf isn’t nearly as useful in a city. Sure, it can go faster and marginally farther (or maybe not, depending on how old it is). But it can’t charge from the sun like these. It can’t fit into the same tiny parking spots (or into areas that aren’t technically parking spots but you can still get away with). It uses significantly more energy to drive around. And it’s kind of a depressing vehicle instead of a fun one. You get a very different reaction when you roll up in a used Nissan Leaf compared to when you roll up in a Wink.
There’s a reason they named the company Wink. These microcars are fun. They don’t take themselves too seriously with aggressive names and misleading “the freedom of car ownership” marketing. Instead, it’s a fun little barely-car that gives you just enough of what you need for transportation: essentially, a small yet comfortable box on wheels.
Would I buy one?
If I lived in the US and spent most of my time in a city, I’d probably buy an electric microcar if I needed a car. Having tried several of them by now, their convenience and fun factor is just hard to resist, and they’re a great way to get an EV without paying a typical EV price.
But I don’t live in the US, and so I can’t buy a Wink. Instead, I recently bought a less attractive version: an electric rickshaw. It’s not nearly as cool, doesn’t have the A/C, locking doors, nicer suspension, or fancy brakes. There’s no backup camera like in the Wink and there are no seat belts either. But it solves the occasional need I have of carrying lumber, a pile of groceries or multiple passengers, something my bikes just can’t do as well.
We haven’t seen electric microcars take off in the US yet, and I think this is largely because there just haven’t been any reasonably affordable options yet. There are cool vehicles like the Waev GEM (formerly the Polaris GEM), but a four-seater with doors costs closer to $20K, or $35K with a lithium battery, which has limited their purchases to mostly commercial use like hotels and airports.
With a new wave of $10K electric tiny cars like these, I can see the case for electric microcars to finally succeed in the US. But it requires someone who doesn’t take the appearance of their car too seriously.