Counting the miles...

So Marc is telling me about trying to make it home in the electric Leaf on Eco mode with the radio off, the air conditioning shut down, and the windows open.
I'm listening and laughing at his story.
He barely made it (in my opinion) to our garage without going into "turtle mode" which is when the car basically is moving on instinct rather than electrical power.
We had taken our granddaughter to meet her mom in Salt Lake and now we know that to do that we need the car charged at least up to 85 miles. 100 percent would be better.
I tried it a week later on 87 miles and I was sweating it by the time I reached 106th South.
The heat cuts into the range a little and freeway speeds reduce the available miles.
Where I had laughed a little at the image of Marc rolling along the highway with the windows open and at a pretty reduced speed, when it was my turn I didn't laugh.
I stopped thinking it was amusing.
I started watching the mileage rate as I came off down the hill from 1400 East.
Coming downhill is encouraging because not only do you not lose any miles, you gain.
And on the freeway, it was bumper-to-bumper traffic which for me was a plus.
The electric car does fine in parked-car traffic. It doesn't lose anything.
However, I'm still a chicken when it comes to running out of power.
I like to know I can get home without calling a tow truck. (My daughter reminded me that one of the gifts Nissan gave us at the outset is a miniature tow hook for the front of the car.)
I did all of the things Marc had done, took all the same measures: put the car in Eco mode (though it's a little more sluggish in Eco), turned off my music, opened the windows and shut down the air conditioning).
I knew once I cleared the Point of the Mountain and down onto the surface streets, I could coast on home — which I did. But usually my rules is the car should be at 40 miles left at the crest of the Point.
It was at 32, 18 when I got home and with only 1 and a half power bars left.
I reflected on my experience yesterday when my grandkids, Cael and Mia, took our little Monster machine over to the park.
Cael, who routinely checks the gas mileage as he buckles in, was alarmed. "We almost out!" he cried.
Mia leaned over to look. "Grandma, it's on the yellow! she said. (In this small battery-powered car, yellow means "hurry back home" and red means you're stopped in the road.)
Again, I was counting miles and steps back to our garage and the charger.
With a bit of pushing and crossing of fingers, we made it.
Both cars are now charging and we'll all be fine.
I'm just wondering if the electric car makers realize the "range anxiety" is a real thing for all of us.