TEMPE, Arizona — I secure my seatbelt in the back seat, press the START RIDE button, and my Waymo One Chrysler Pacifica enters traffic on Warner Road, the steering wheel spinning right — then left — into the center lane before slowing for a stoplight.
There is no one in the car but me.
Four years after an autonomous Uber car killed a cyclist here, fully autonomous Waymo ride-sharing is on the streets ferrying drivers to their destinations. Like Uber or Lyft, they are open to the public. Unlike those familiar services, there are no drivers on board.
I took multiple trips over three days across the southeast Phoenix service area. The rides were smooth, efficient, stress-free and on time.
Since 2014, I have followed the progress of Level 4 autonomous technology as a passenger — and as a driver at the wheel of Level 2, semi-autonomous vehicles. My robo-rides include the original Google Lexus 450h; its cute, marshmallow-shaped successor at Google HQ; and Uber's Volvo XC90 through the streets of Pittsburgh.
Semi-autonomous adventures include multiple rides aboard GM vehicles equipped with Super Cruise, and Ford's similar, geo-fenced BlueCruise system. In between, I've logged countless miles in Autopilot aboard my Tesla Model 3.
Since October 2020, Waymo One has serviced 50 square miles through the adjacent communities of Tempe, Mesa, Gilbert and Chandler — the first Level 4 autonomous cars on offer to the public, 24/7, rain-or-shine, via a downloadable smartphone app.
(The National Highway Traffic Safety Administration defines automated vehicle systems as follows: Level 1, Driver Assistance, some driver-assist features may be included; Level 2, Partial Automation, combined automated functions such as steering and acceleration, with a driver maintaining control; Level 3, Conditional Automation, driver must be ready to take control of the vehicle at all times; Level 4, High Automation, the vehicle can perform all driving functions under certain conditions; Level 5, Full Automation, the vehicle can perform all driving functions under all conditions.)
I wait for 18 minutes at the Tempe Public Library at a quiet, urban intersection. The white Chrysler Pacifica — a big "W" printed on its doors — is recognizable from afar with its blue LIDAR "bubble-gum machine" on the roof.
A passerby exclaims at the sci-fi bot and reaches it before I do — "Wow! A driverless car!" — snapping pics with his phone. Generally, though, I'm struck by how accepted Waymos seem to be. With 300-400 robots on the road, locals mostly pass them by without a second look.
Like Detroit, Phoenix is a sprawling metropolitan area where personal transport is king. Like other ride-share companies, robotaxis see an opportunity to service people without vehicles, including the elderly or those with health issues. The Epilepsy Foundation of Arizona and Foundation for Senior Living are Waymo partners. I focused my rides on meeting daily necessities.
I hailed robots to Freddy's Custard and Steak (a popular local burger chain similar to Shake Shack), Walmart, Starbucks and CVS Pharmacy. Pickup times were generally comparable to Lyft at 4-7 minutes. My ride from the Tempe Library to Freddy's cost $10 — competitive with a $14 Lyft ride.
There is no mistaking my ride for someone else's Waymo. My initials — HP — are displayed in bright blue on the dash. The Waymo is plastered with instructions. Upon approach, a sign on the front door beckons me in ("Please take a back seat to access controls and display"). I open the sliding door and a voice welcomes me ("Good afternoon, Henry").
As in a New York taxi, I am separated from the (empty) front seat by plexiglass. A touchscreen hangs from the seatback confirming my destination. Once underway, the screen displays a car eye's view of the driving environment: vehicles, pedestrians, buildings, stoplights. Every two seconds, the LIDAR sweep displays even more detail with ghostlike shapes of bushes, trees, lamp posts, etc.
A camera watches me from above. The remote voice of a Waymo Rider Support agent intervenes. "Is your seatbelt on?" she asks from Waymo's Chandler service center. "I can't tell since it's similar to the color of your shirt."
I confirm that I'm buckled in — and learn I can push the HELP button (next to the camera) anytime to ask questions. I can also press PULL OVER if I want to stop the minivan.
A member of the Alphabet Inc. family with Google, Waymo uses the Pacifica Plug-in model (with 32 miles of battery range before the gas engine kicks in), which is a nice evolution from its Lexus 450h hybrid predecessor that featured a prominent "popcorn box" LIDAR on top and only a second-row of seats for passengers. With their flexible, three-row interiors, minivans have long made excellent ride-share vehicles.
Pacifica's modern, bullet-like shape dovetails with the "Waymo Driver" suite of sci-fi equipment: a long-range, mid-range and four short-range LIDARs. Additional hardware includes 19 cameras, six radar units and multiple microphones. It's a Best Buy shopper's dream ride.
One day, I bring my suitcase and briefcase along. But unlike the Lyft Nissan Quest minivan that delivered me to Tempe, I can't access the Pacifica's hatchback.
"Sorry, but you'll have to put your bags in the seat next to you," responds the Rider Support agent. Seems all that LIDAR hardware requires a lot of computer hardware in the boot to run. Just like the ol' Lexus. Still, the minivan proves its worth — it can swallow two passengers and their luggage. Or a lot of groceries.
With its favorable regulatory environment, high-tech workforce and diverse population of seniors and college students, Phoenix has ideal demographics to attract autonomous experiments. The Tempe service area is home to Intel's sprawling semiconductor manufacturing facilities, Mesa Community College and neighboring bedroom communities. In addition to Waymo, GM's Cruise is testing autonomous grocery deliveries here with Walmart.
Naturally, the gridded streets and mild weather help. Snow and cold weather (looking at you, Michigan) are hell on robotaxis. It didn't rain during my time in Phoenix, but Waymo confirmed a technician will ride along when storms loom. For the first time in my eight years of riding robotaxis, I rode alone. In Pittsburgh in 2017, two Uber technicians occupied the front seats.
I was determined to put Waymo to the test and I took rides during morning and evening rush hours when the light was low.
Contrary to human drivers, robotaxis prefer night travel so cameras aren't confused by sun glare. Autopilot in my Tesla struggles at dusk when the low sun can blind its cameras. Despite a bright southwest sun, my Waymo rides never wobbled.
My previous robotaxis have been overly conservative: always in the right lane, always deferring to other cars. Not this time. While displaying impeccable manners (turn signals, obeying speed limits, easy turns), the Waymo's priority is getting me to my destination on time.
Driving to CVS, we switch lanes to pass slower cars, then stay left on a six-lane road to make time. Crossing three lanes to get me to a secondary street near the pharmacy, the Chrysler inched into the oncoming lanes just like I would have done — anticipating approaching cars, then shooting the gap between them.
Waymo operates a huge service center in Chandler so its robotaxis can come to roost, refuel, get serviced. In addition to its high-tech hardware, Waymo technicians have mapped the service area for cars to follow.
Since opening Waymo One to the public in October 2020, the company says it has logged 6 million miles of travel with 47 recorded "contact events, nearly all of which involved human error on the part of other drivers or road users involved."
Turning left into a six-lane road, the Waymo properly merges into the far left lane. But a human driver to our right isn't so precise, swerving left in front of the Waymo as we merge. We slow, giving the car room.
Further along, a pedestrian crosses the six-lane from the left, then stops at the painted median. The Waymo sees him, slows, then accelerates away.
Tesla's secret sauce is that it has tens of thousands of guinea pigs like me self-driving their cars every day — with all that data being fed back to headquarters to help with machine learning. Cool, but stressful. I have to know what Autopilot can't see, and override the system when it gets confused. The Model 3, for example, habitually slows for every traffic light, whether green or red.
Waiting for Waymo, I follow the vehicle's progress on the app. Unlike a Lyft driver, the robotaxi prefers quiet pickup spots on side roads or shopping plazas — requiring me to walk 2-3 minutes to meet it. Confident in the vehicle's abilities, I use my rides to catch up on email and texts.
Leaving a main artery, Waymo takes a short cut through a suburban neighborhood to get me to Walmart. But the neighborhood includes multiple speed bumps. Hmmm. If I were in the Tesla, I'd have to take over. But the Waymo sees them, slows, then moves on to the next.
Not bad for an autonomous car.
