There It Is.
Hello, I’m Ross.
I’m a dad, creator, DIYer, tinkerer, motorcycle rider and occasional surfer who somehow ended up building an entire website about a truck I don’t even own yet.
I’m not an automotive journalist.
I’m not a mechanic.
And I never really thought of myself as a website developer or writer.
I’m just a guy who saw the Slate and thought:
There it is.
It wasn’t some magical, life-changing moment. It was simpler than that.
Someone had finally built the kind of vehicle I’d been wishing existed for years.
I was ready for simple.
Over the last 20 years, I’ve spent more than $25,000 repairing my ICE vehicles.
A blown transmission in my Dodge Caravan surf mobile. Radiator problems. Multiple failed coil packs. A head gasket. Three power-window regulators. A/C failures and repairs. Electrical and stereo-system problems.
Then there was my Audi A4, which somehow managed to cost me more than $4,500 a year to maintain for three years in a row.
And today, my Acura RDX has a stereo connector issue that could cost me more than $1,000 just to keep the factory system working properly.
Twenty-five thousand dollars.
And that’s before counting all the normal maintenance that comes with owning ICE vehicles for a couple of decades.
That’s a big part of why Slate hit me differently.
I wasn’t looking at the truck and thinking about everything they could add to it.
I was looking at everything they had taken away.
No gasoline engine. No traditional automatic transmission. No exhaust system. No oil changes. No ignition coils or spark plugs. No complicated factory infotainment system permanently integrated into the dashboard. Manual windows instead of another electric motor, switch and regulator buried inside each door.
Of course, Slate isn’t maintenance-free. Tires wear out. Suspension components wear. Electronics can fail. Batteries and motors aren’t immortal.
It’s still a vehicle.
But many of the systems that have personally cost me thousands of dollars over the last 20 years?
They simply aren’t part of this truck.
Slate’s simplicity wasn’t a compromise to me.
It was the feature.
After $25,000 worth of lessons from my previous vehicles, I realized I didn’t want my next vehicle to have more.
I wanted it to have less.
Less complexity. Less stuff buried behind the dashboard. Less equipment I never asked for. Fewer systems waiting to become expensive problems.
Give me the useful stuff.
Give me something I can understand.
Give me a platform I can customize.
Give me something I can make my own.
That’s what I saw in Slate.
Then I saw what you could do with it.
The simplicity got my attention.
The possibilities got me excited.
Turn the truck into an SUV. Wrap it however you want. Swap parts. Add accessories. Change things yourself. Build the vehicle around the way you actually use it.
I’m a DIYer and tinkerer. The idea that the vehicle could evolve with me instead of being a finished product handed to me by a manufacturer just made sense.
Want a simple little truck? Keep it that way.
Want an SUV? Build one.
Want something completely different from everyone else’s? Go for it.
That’s when simple became fun.
And that’s when I was all in.
Slate isn’t interesting to me simply because it’s electric.
It’s interesting because somebody finally seems willing to ask a question that the automotive industry stopped asking a long time ago:
What if we just made the vehicle simpler?
So I built SlateRides.
Not because I’m an expert.
Because I’m a fan.
I wanted one place where someone like me could follow what’s happening with Slate, learn about the truck, understand the accessories and modifications, find useful information and discover what other people are doing with theirs.
But because I’m a tinkerer, I couldn’t stop there.
The more I learned, the more I started thinking about the ecosystem that could grow around this thing.
Accessories. Wraps. DIY projects. 3D-printable parts. Owner builds. Modifications. Road trips. Aftermarket companies. A community sharing what they’ve figured out.
And probably a whole bunch of ideas none of us have thought of yet.
That’s what I want SlateRides to become.
I want one, too.
That’s probably important to know about this site.
I’m not standing outside the community reporting on it.
I’m a fan who wants to be part of it.
I’m looking forward to the day I get behind the wheel of my own Slate and start making it mine.
And I already know I won’t leave it alone.
I’ll customize it, change things, try ideas, probably make a few mistakes and figure things out along the way. And when that happens, I’ll share the entire experience here.
Until then, I’ll keep following Slate, asking questions, digging into the details, finding interesting ideas and building the kind of resource I want to have when it’s finally time to customize my own.
That’s really what SlateRides is about.
One fan building something for other fans.
I’m not trying to convince you that Slate is the greatest vehicle ever made.
I haven’t even driven one yet.
I’m just genuinely excited about what they’re trying to build and what might grow around it.
And I have a feeling I’m not the only one.
If you found one thing on SlateRides today that helped you, answered a question, gave you an idea or simply made you a little more excited about Slate, then this website did its job.
I hope you find something useful today.
And I hope you find another reason to come back tomorrow.
I’ll do my best to keep learning, keep sharing and keep making SlateRides better as this whole thing grows.
Someday, hopefully, we’ll cross paths out there, each driving a Slate we’ve made completely our own.
Looking forward to seeing you on the road.
Let’s Ride!
Ross Rogers
Founder & Fellow Slate Fan
SlateRides
Independence Disclosure
SlateRides is an independent enthusiast website. SlateRides and Ross Rogers are not affiliated with, employed by, sponsored by, or officially endorsed by Slate Auto or any other automaker or automotive parts supplier.
The opinions and content published on SlateRides are our own unless otherwise noted. Any future commercial, affiliate, sponsored, or product relationships will be clearly disclosed where applicable.
Slate, Slate Auto, and related names, logos, product names, and trademarks are the property of their respective owners.
I’m a dad, creator, DIYer, tinkerer, motorcycle rider and occasional surfer who somehow ended up building an entire website about a truck I don’t even own yet.
I’m not an automotive journalist.
I’m not a mechanic.
And I never really thought of myself as a website developer or writer.
I’m just a guy who saw the Slate and thought:
There it is.
It wasn’t some magical, life-changing moment. It was simpler than that.
Someone had finally built the kind of vehicle I’d been wishing existed for years.
I was ready for simple.
Over the last 20 years, I’ve spent more than $25,000 repairing my ICE vehicles.
A blown transmission in my Dodge Caravan surf mobile. Radiator problems. Multiple failed coil packs. A head gasket. Three power-window regulators. A/C failures and repairs. Electrical and stereo-system problems.
Then there was my Audi A4, which somehow managed to cost me more than $4,500 a year to maintain for three years in a row.
And today, my Acura RDX has a stereo connector issue that could cost me more than $1,000 just to keep the factory system working properly.
Twenty-five thousand dollars.
And that’s before counting all the normal maintenance that comes with owning ICE vehicles for a couple of decades.
That’s a big part of why Slate hit me differently.
I wasn’t looking at the truck and thinking about everything they could add to it.
I was looking at everything they had taken away.
No gasoline engine. No traditional automatic transmission. No exhaust system. No oil changes. No ignition coils or spark plugs. No complicated factory infotainment system permanently integrated into the dashboard. Manual windows instead of another electric motor, switch and regulator buried inside each door.
Of course, Slate isn’t maintenance-free. Tires wear out. Suspension components wear. Electronics can fail. Batteries and motors aren’t immortal.
It’s still a vehicle.
But many of the systems that have personally cost me thousands of dollars over the last 20 years?
They simply aren’t part of this truck.
Slate’s simplicity wasn’t a compromise to me.
It was the feature.
After $25,000 worth of lessons from my previous vehicles, I realized I didn’t want my next vehicle to have more.
I wanted it to have less.
Less complexity. Less stuff buried behind the dashboard. Less equipment I never asked for. Fewer systems waiting to become expensive problems.
Give me the useful stuff.
Give me something I can understand.
Give me a platform I can customize.
Give me something I can make my own.
That’s what I saw in Slate.
Then I saw what you could do with it.
The simplicity got my attention.
The possibilities got me excited.
Turn the truck into an SUV. Wrap it however you want. Swap parts. Add accessories. Change things yourself. Build the vehicle around the way you actually use it.
I’m a DIYer and tinkerer. The idea that the vehicle could evolve with me instead of being a finished product handed to me by a manufacturer just made sense.
Want a simple little truck? Keep it that way.
Want an SUV? Build one.
Want something completely different from everyone else’s? Go for it.
That’s when simple became fun.
And that’s when I was all in.
Slate isn’t interesting to me simply because it’s electric.
It’s interesting because somebody finally seems willing to ask a question that the automotive industry stopped asking a long time ago:
What if we just made the vehicle simpler?
So I built SlateRides.
Not because I’m an expert.
Because I’m a fan.
I wanted one place where someone like me could follow what’s happening with Slate, learn about the truck, understand the accessories and modifications, find useful information and discover what other people are doing with theirs.
But because I’m a tinkerer, I couldn’t stop there.
The more I learned, the more I started thinking about the ecosystem that could grow around this thing.
Accessories. Wraps. DIY projects. 3D-printable parts. Owner builds. Modifications. Road trips. Aftermarket companies. A community sharing what they’ve figured out.
And probably a whole bunch of ideas none of us have thought of yet.
That’s what I want SlateRides to become.
I want one, too.
That’s probably important to know about this site.
I’m not standing outside the community reporting on it.
I’m a fan who wants to be part of it.
I’m looking forward to the day I get behind the wheel of my own Slate and start making it mine.
And I already know I won’t leave it alone.
I’ll customize it, change things, try ideas, probably make a few mistakes and figure things out along the way. And when that happens, I’ll share the entire experience here.
Until then, I’ll keep following Slate, asking questions, digging into the details, finding interesting ideas and building the kind of resource I want to have when it’s finally time to customize my own.
That’s really what SlateRides is about.
One fan building something for other fans.
I’m not trying to convince you that Slate is the greatest vehicle ever made.
I haven’t even driven one yet.
I’m just genuinely excited about what they’re trying to build and what might grow around it.
And I have a feeling I’m not the only one.
If you found one thing on SlateRides today that helped you, answered a question, gave you an idea or simply made you a little more excited about Slate, then this website did its job.
I hope you find something useful today.
And I hope you find another reason to come back tomorrow.
I’ll do my best to keep learning, keep sharing and keep making SlateRides better as this whole thing grows.
Someday, hopefully, we’ll cross paths out there, each driving a Slate we’ve made completely our own.
Looking forward to seeing you on the road.
Let’s Ride!
Ross Rogers
Founder & Fellow Slate Fan
SlateRides
Independence Disclosure
SlateRides is an independent enthusiast website. SlateRides and Ross Rogers are not affiliated with, employed by, sponsored by, or officially endorsed by Slate Auto or any other automaker or automotive parts supplier.
The opinions and content published on SlateRides are our own unless otherwise noted. Any future commercial, affiliate, sponsored, or product relationships will be clearly disclosed where applicable.
Slate, Slate Auto, and related names, logos, product names, and trademarks are the property of their respective owners.
