Caterham Seven 275SV - the purest four-wheeled driving experience on sale?
Trying to understand what a Caterham is all about, and finding out if it lives up to its myth.
"A Caterham offers the rawest and purest driving experience one can get", "No other car feels as connected as a Caterham", "A Caterham is an oversized go-cart for the road",... I could go on and on with narratives surrounding this little, bug-eyed British dinosaur of the car world. But do they hold any truth? And why dinosaur? Because it is ancient! The original car - a Lotus Seven - designed by the ingenious Colin Chapman was introduced in 1957. That was more than 60 years ago. And since then, not a lot has changed. Since Caterham took over the rights for continuing to manufacture the Seven under its own brand in 1973, they have of course refined and slightly modernized it. But it's fair to say this is about as true to the original as it can get in the year of 2021. A Seven is the embodiment of an ultra-lightweight, raw, and unfiltered British driving experience. And after years of trying to get hold of one, I'm finally here to find out if this still stands true to this day.
What exactly are we looking at here?
At some sort of giant killer-wasp. That's at least what it looks like from distance, in this particular color. I leave it up to you to decide if it is pretty or not. One thing you can't argue with is, that it looks purposeful. And I like that a lot. Everything about it screams "lightweight" and "minimalism". Even though this one was the 275SV version - the more civilized of the bunch - there is still almost nothing on it that doesn't serve the sole purpose of enabling the driving. Interior-wise, if there is a button or switch for a "commodity" like the turn signal or the windshield wiper, it looks and feels like an afterthought. But that's ok, at least there is nothing distracting you from the drive itself.
You want to know how much it costs? Brace yourselves, because this one is quite a shocker. Over here in "good old" Austria - mainland Europe, for the middle-of-the-range model, the 275SV, you would have to scrape together the better part of 50.000 Euros. I'm afraid I don't have enough old couches at my disposal to take apart and plunder to pull that off, for what in essence is a four-wheeled weekend toy. Besides, considering we are basically talking about a kit-car from the fifties, this hardly looks reasonable to me. It'd better be nothing short of brilliant to drive.
So what about the driving?
Not so fast! In order to actually drive, you have to get in it first. I don't think I have ever looked this silly in the process. When getting in and out, it is very important not to lean on anything else than the doorsills and the roll cage. Everything other than that is flimsy and flexible enough to deform under pressure. Once seated, you actually feel rather cocooned in. Road-scraping low seating position, enough leg room, sort of enough shoulder room - at least in widebody form. Not all that uncomfortable, although the toy-like steering wheel and tiny pedal box are a little offset. What gets exhausting over time is the lack of real footwell-room. There is just no place other than the clutch pedal to rest your left leg on.
Feeling like you're featuring in the movie "Honey, I shrunk the kids" next to "normal" cars doesn't exactly give you confidence either
On the move, the first couple of kilometers can be quite intimidating. This is a car with absolutely zero driving aids. With zero I mean, it doesn't even have boosted brakes. I'm not even going to mention the lack of stability systems and other electronic shananigans which we are so used to nowadays. So you quickly figure out, you really have to pack it by the scruff of its neck from the very first meter onwards. There is very high resistance on any control. The steering, the 5 speed manual gearbox, even the non-assisted brakes. You think you can "big-toe" the brakes? You are going to shoot over the first junction you are approaching. In the first instance, it feels like nothing fits, it's reluctant, not on your side, an utter handful. Everything is hard work at first. Feeling like you're featuring in the movie "Honey, I shrunk the kids" next to "normal" cars doesn't exactly give you confidence either.
That however eases after around 20 minutes into the drive. That's the point where you start getting into a very nice groove with it. You then finally begin to trust it, and appreciate the exceptional qualities it has on offer. Of course the standout feature is its weight - or lack thereof. Given it weighs about as much as a larger maple leaf, at around 550kg, the car is incredibly precise, darty, and light on its feet. A pure delight to throw around corners. Unlike anything I have ever experienced. Go-cart for the road is a term used too often for roadgoing cars. If there is a car worthy of this saying, it's the Seven. The steering is direct to a point, where flicking the wrists results in a frantic direction change. It claws itself into the asphalt, catapults you around the bend, and spits you out at the other end. While doing so, it transforms the shoddiest little B-road into a racetrack. Utterly addictive. The composure it keeps is remarkable. The ride in general is surprisingly supple, offers real quality damping. Of course you feel every little undulation, but it still manages to soak up the worst parts. That has to be down to the low curb weight. It just enables you to run relatively soft spring and damper rates. On top, watching the front wheels jiggle while soaking up the bumps is pure entertainment. Also, one big benefit of being able to see what the front wheels are doing: Easy and precise car placement on the road. Overall, it feels very well dialed in, completely discarding its kit-car vibes.
Any persisting negatives? Yes, actually a couple. The direct steering quickly gets to a point where it is outright nervous at speeds higher than around 110 kph (~70 mph). Plus, it is tramlining big time. Also, I didn't really get 100% comfortable with the seating position. I never quite knew where to put my right arm/elbow. To be able to properly shift, you have to have it on the very high transmission tunnel. If you keep it there, it is very tough to steer the car into tight right-handers, so you always have to reel it back in. Not very ideal. I kept constantly going back and forth between the two. Being this squeezed in, that gets tiring after a while.
What about engine and gearbox?
The 275 comes with a naturally aspirated 1,6l Ford lump, producing a mere 136PS. It is coupled to a very notchy, ultra-short-throw, close gear-ratio, five-speed manual transmission. This combo works fantastically well for this car. It is pure joy rolling through the gears with its stubby little leaver, while trying to keep the engine at song. If you do so, it has more than enough pep to properly push this lithe, little thing along. These are for sure the quickest 136PS I have ever felt. Do you need more power than that? No, absolutely not. Within a sane speed-range, there is always enough poke available to have proper fun. North of 120-130 kph is where it starts running out of puff. But would you really want to go there and beyond in this little shoebox? I don't exactly have a death-wish, so I wouldn't. The exhaust also emits a pretty engaging, gruff and angry noise for such a little gasoline-burner. That was unexpected to be honest. On the move however, you get a whole cacophony of many different sounds and noises. What gets very dominant at one point is the whine of the gearbox and differential. Quite draining over a whole day of driving, but always reminding you, that you are piloting a car with absolutely no sound deadening, and no emphasis on NVH ratings.
it is the impersonation of Mr. Chapman's lightweight and minimalism ethos, and it is astonishing that a machine like this is still purchasable to this day
Conclusion. Is it worth the money?
It spooks you at first, beats you up, punishes you, but most importantly, it teaches you how to properly drive a car. Once you have worked your way around the - at times - questionable ergonomics, and started to get into a proper flow with it, this little pocket-rocket introduces you to a whole new dimension of driving. And boy, it is one that is pure, unfiltered, raw, and off-the-charts engaging. The sheer analogue connection between man and machine, the sensory overload, and the thrills you get are unheard of, and unmatched, in an age where everything goes digital and electric. It is probably the most outright fun one can have on four wheels at all speeds. Furthermore, it is the impersonation of Mr. Chapman's lightweight and minimalism ethos, and it is astonishing that a machine like this is still purchasable to this day. Can you put a price tag on that? I don't think so. This is not a "numbers car", it is all about the experience, the sensations, and the way it manages to draw you in, deeper and deeper, the further you go.
I just hope Caterham's new Japanese owners won't water future versions down, especially with electrification knocking on the door. Instead, they should see the inevitable end of the internal combustion engine as a chance to show all the sceptics, including myself, that electric cars can still be lightweight, raw, connected, and most crucially, fun and engaging to drive.
Join In
Comments (12)
Nice piece, always wanted a Caterham..
caterham have nicked lotus' motto, especially since lotus announced an suv
Rode in one ONCE, my kidneys are still leaking blood. On the other hand, Capt Slow confirmed that its a cracking good off-roader, better than a post apocalyptic Bentley or Tank tread Ford.
Always wanted to try driving one, and reading this makes me want to drive one even more.
You absolutely should as long as they are still around!
I don’t think most drivers today have experienced the “privilege”of driving a totally un-assisted car…no power steering, no power brakes and of course, a manual gear box.
In my youth, many of my friends drove British sports cars. I owned a 1960 Triumph TR3A and a 1963 TR4. I also had the chance to drive various MGs and Austin Healeys.
My younger brother was really into British sports cars, and over a period of years did restorations of a Triumph TR2, a TR3, a TR4 and a British Daimler. He was so proud of his work that he kept all of them.
Years later, when we were no longer in our youth, we and other family members drove his four cars to a major car show. The highlight of the evening was my brother receiving an award for the quality of his restorations, and having all four classics shown together.
We drove home in a jovial mood and parallel parked all four cars in front of his house. When it came time to move them to his garage, I was assigned to drive the Daimler. It was very heavy car and I had never driven it before.
It was parked between two other cars, and when I started the engine, I couldn’t even turn the steering wheel. Everyone chuckled, and I was shown how you had to “rock” the car sufficiently to turn the wheels and get moving.
This was my last experience driving an un-assisted car. I’m sorry I made this story so long, but even though I’ve never driven a Caterham, I do understand the physical effort required.
I really enjoyed this article. Thanks.
Great story, thanks for sharing. I think I would keep all my personally restored cars as well. :D Yes, unfortunately nowadays the "art" of driving a completely analogue car is no longer required. I pledge for Caterhams in every driving...
Read moreGlad you enjoyed my story