With all rows of seats up, the E-150 has surprisingly little luggage space.  In fact, there’s close to none!   Even a Vulcan gong wouldn’t fit in here.   The seats are also uncooperative when it comes to reconfiguring for luggage.  They don’t fold or slide, and can be removed only with tools. 

The Starfleet vessel packs a mighty punch with its warp engines.  The Chateau Wagon is no slouch either when it comes to acceleration.  A 4.6-liter Triton V8 resides under its hood, pumping out 235 bhp, and 462 Nm of torque at just 3000 rpm.  The V8 growl is always pleasingly audible from the driver's seat, similar to the omnipresent hum on the Enterprise bridge.   The throttle response isn't quite as sharp as that in an F-150 SuperCrew with the same engine.  This is due to the E's massive 2623 kg, compared to the SuperCrew's 2309 kg.  However, warp speed is still available on command. A clunky column-mounted shifter controls the four-speed automatic transmission.  This gearbox responds quite well to prods from the throttle.  Downshifts are prompt and decisive, while upshifts are smooth and unobtrusive. 

Accelerating the E is a strange affair; you can hear the engine winding up, but there's little sensation of increasing velocity.  Perhaps it’s equipped with inertial dampeners.  It's only when you glance at the speedometer do you realize you are moving faster.   

Steering is just as remote as the acceleration.  There's no steering feel to speak of, and the wheel has an odd tendency to rebound a bit when released. Maneuvering the E isn't so difficult on the open road, but you have to make sure there's plenty of room when overtaking or changing lane to account for the vehicle's length.   

The E can travel 4.10 km per liter of anti-matter…er, gasoline, rather.  (24.39 l/100 km, or   9.64 mpg US.) This was the average during our weekend of mixed city and highway driving.  However, the fuel tank packs a whopping 133 liters, for a range of several light years—actually, about 545 km.

When the Enterprise encounters wormholes and other spatial distortions, it tends to buck like a bronco and throw the crew out of their seats.   The E while not quite as unruly, also has a problem with ride.  It tends to send bumps and road irregularities into the cabin seemingly unfiltered, causing the seats and other interior bits to quake and vibrate unpleasantly.  It's a far cry from the floating ride quality of the F150 pickup. 

Surely Ford trucks don't break down easily, and in this ship you won't have to hear Scotty yelling, "She canna take much more of this, Captain!"  The E's mechanical bits seemed bulletproof, but other areas didn't seem to be wearing so well. Our test E had surely gone through a rough life being a press and demo unit, but at 9700 km on the odometer, it already had plenty of squeaks and creaks from interior bits and the chassis itself.

The biggest problem for the Enterprise when it reaches a planet is that it can't land on the surface because it's too large.  There's no place to park the darned thing!  Unfortunately, you get the same dilemma in the E.  Finding a place to park it is a challenge, due to its ampleness in all three dimensions.   You can forget about most basement or multi-level parking; the 2118 mm height exceeds most buildings' 1.8 or 2.0 meter restrictions. Its 5382 mm length makes it difficult to maneuver and turn, and its 2014 mm width ensures that you won't able to squeeze it into a parking space if the adjacent vehicles so much as put the edge of one wheel on the yellow lines.  

Vulcan logic dictates that not even a single suitcase would fit in here. Quick Release bench seats would require tools. Shame.

Ahh...the 1960s excess lives in the E150. The spirit of the original Starship Enterprise lives on.

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