Even if I register a Caterham for road use, it’s still not a normal car per se. In fact, this machine is decidedly abnormal. More glorified go-kart than simplified roadster, this hardcore driving machine makes even a stripped-down MX-5 (reviewed here) look like a luxurious grand tourer for two.
Features I take for granted in a road car, such as doors, windows and windscreens, are missing from the Caterham. I can specify an optional small windshield, complete with little wipers, but this is at best a token affair that won’t save my face from big bugs and small debris. Tiny, too, are the Caterham’s rear and side mirrors, which are every bit as toy-like as the so-called car.
As for air-conditioning (technology explained here), the joke continues at the expense of the daily driver. It’s alfresco motoring all the way, whether I like it or not, with the only cold comfort on board being the fire extinguisher on standby in the rear compartment. Radio, CD, MP3? Forget it, I have to sing my own songs on the road. And with no soft-top as standard, sometimes I’ll be singing in the rain.
So it’s hopeless as a road car, but as a track attacker, a Caterham is likely to be heaven. Raw, rapid and ready to race at the drop of a full-face helmet, a Caterham (especially in rocketship R500 guise as seen here) is a pure driver’s car through and through.
This purity of purpose means that the Caterham is a playful circuit kid rather than grown-up adult transport. No enthusiast in his right mind would drive this thing every day and everywhere.
