by Patrick White

22-08-08 The grey-haired man in the straw hat carries a teetering bowl of potato salad to the back yard. His hosting duties have been reduced to an endless relay of food and drink, house to porch.
Out back, his son tends two sizzling barbecues, barely keeping up with guests' appetites. The Vancouver Electric Vehicle Association's annual barbecue is just starting and already Harry Snalam's 25 lawn chairs are filled. Nearly as many people stand, paper plates in hand. When Mr Snalam joined VEVA seven years ago, attendance rivalled that of a rural knitting club. Harry Snalam, in the driver's seat, and his son, Andrew, are happy to show off the 1984 Mazda RX-7 they converted to electric together in Richmond, BC.

But 18 months ago, things got crazy. Al Gore's An Inconvenient Truth rattled North America's faith in internal combustion while the documentary Who Killed the Electric Car? highlighted the virtues of battery-powered transport. These cultural touchstones merged with the recent economic bombshell of soaring gas prices, prompting many drivers to seek alternatives to gas-guzzling vehicles.
The result?
"We need a bigger room for our meetings," says Mr Snalam. "There are upwards of 120 coming out every month."

Where five electric cars once rolled into VEVA events, some 25 do today. The Vancouverites who spend their downtime here talking amps, batteries, the vagaries of electric car laws and the ills of internal combustion engines are a curious mix of gear-head and environmentalist, businessman and mechanic.
"It's not just geeky engineering types any more," said Phil Dayson, partner in a truck-body manufacturing business and a five-year VEVA member. "Very quickly, we've become mainstream."

But that has done nothing to dilute members' enthusiasm. When Mr Snalam learns that one attendee has never ridden in an electric car, he drops everything (except the spud salad, which he places ever so carefully on a table).
"Come around front and hop in," he says excitedly. A sporty 1984 Mazda RX-7 sits in Mr Snalam's front yard, extension cord dangling from where the gas nozzle should go. Within minutes, he's working through the gears on Westminster Highway in Richmond.
"There's more torque than you need," he says, flooring the gas pedal, sending the car flying past others on the road in excess of 65 km an hour. Many club cars reach speeds higher than 110 km an hour.

Club members are constantly battling the perception that electric cars are poky and impractical. Mr Snalam drives his to work at a steel fabrication plant every day. He converted the car with his son in the front yard. The 18 batteries cost $ 1,000 and give him a range of 112 km. More expensive lithium-ion batteries ($ 7,000) would easily double that range.
And you can't beat the price of a fill-up.
"The hot tub uses more energy," he says.

As proof of electric engine reliability, the club maintains a Detroit Electric. Built in 1912, the car still has its original engine and the batteries have been replaced just once. The Detroit and several electric cars owned by club members have become a popular draw at local car shows.
"The car clubs are phoning us now," says Alan Cumberlidge, who maintains the Detroit.

While the technology to mass-produce electric cars has been around for a century, the will to build them has ebbed and flowed with economic conditions. Some members recall first falling in love with the idea of electric cars when General Motors announced the Electrovair in 1964, an electric version of the Corvair that never saw mass production. During the energy crisis of the 1970s, North American car makers again teased consumers with promises of electric cars -- promises they never kept.
The Big Three auto makers produced several workable electric cars in the 1990s, including GM's EV1, subject of Who Killed the Electric Car?, but scrapped them all.

Formed in 1987, VEVA has outlived the many fits and starts of the electric car industry. Older members think their time has finally come.
"With peak oil and all the environmental and economic concerns, it's more of a done deal now," says 18-year member Mr Cumberlidge. "Electric is the way to go. Car manufacturers will realize this or die."

Perhaps the most daunting challenge VEVA and other electric car clubs face is legislation. British Columbia and Quebec are the only provinces that permit LSVs, or low-speed vehicles, a class of small electric vehicle that travels under 40 km an hour. Ontario's Zenn Motor Company manufactures the cars but can't sell them in the province.
"You can buy a Zenn in 42 states, but not in most of Canada," says J.P. Fernbach, president of Durham Electric Vehicles Association in Durham, Ontario, another electric car club that's seen a surge in interest recently.

Instead of waiting for mass production and retail availability, VEVA is opening its own shop where owners can have their cars converted to electric. They hope to open in October.
As attitudes toward electric cars shift, club members have one emerging concern.
"We may become redundant," says Mr Cumberlidge, as he considers a second helping from the barbecue. "That day is just around the corner. We'll all have to find a new hobby."