Gabe, a third-generation San Francisco resident, says he grew up playing with Nancy Pelosi's kids and went to high school with Gavin Newsom, and now he's one Driver the way they are politicians-It's in his blood. He has been operating a taxicab, Uber or Lyft since 1995 and even helped organize a strike of taxi workers in the late 90s. He has also written about driving, ride-hailing or motorcycling for the last two decades. And if you think we're being silly about car-chase movie tropes, Gabe was previously a machine-gunner for the US Marines during the Gulf War – so he's at least ex-military. He is driving a brown Hyundai Ioniq 5 EV (9/10, WIRED recommends) and keeps his military service ribbon pinned to the dashboard. A 100-year-old ukulele is also visible from the center console.
The chase begins as planned: One of us drives a Waymo a few blocks away, drives it to the edge of the parking lot, then bolts to join the others in our pursuit vehicle. “You know what to say, right?” Gabe says from the driver's seat as we struggle to put the seat belt on. Wired blinks.
,come onGabe says. “Don't you ever watch old movies? You jump in the cab and say, “Chase that car!”
But Waymo is just sitting there. For two painful minutes. We've had plenty of time to stare awkwardly at our quarry – a vehicle whose shape is reminiscent of a cartoon shark with a bunch of doodads moving around in its skin – as it zips by via its 29 cameras and five lidars. Stares at us, mapping our shapes.
“It sounds shy,” says Gabe.
“It is a matter of shame. It's a shame,” WIRED says. “It knows it's being tricked.”
Then, at 10:42 a.m., Waymo begins moving. Wired yells, “Chase that car!”
After less than a minute, Gabe sighed. “I'm not used to driving so slow.”
before we go Next, let's do something a little different: Walking around inside a self-driving vehicle, especially for the first time, is an instantly cool experience. It starts out like an amusement park ride – the empty Gondola moves up, you get in, you close the door. then it becomes Antonym Of an amusement park ride. No thrill. No hassle. No rattle. Just you, some soft black leather, a default computer voice, and – for now – a steering wheel, moving ghostly this way and that.