There are one or two essentials that we’ve become accustomed to with cars. More recent innovations have also become the norm very quickly. Who hasn’t looked down at the dash for a reversing camera only to find one absent? Other safety features like traction control and ABS are assumed as present in any modern car. Even turbo chargers and four wheel drive have become ubiquitous. There are a few bits that we really take for granted, though. A roof? Doors? A windscreen? Maybe even a stereo. Well, the Caterham 420 Cup features none of those things.
That’s enough to put most people off, my wife included. But then the Caterham 420 Cup isn’t designed for most people. Or my wife. Its singular aim is to deliver the lightest, purest driving experience you’ll find, one that will extend from track to road.
From the first impression, it strives to achieve this. The acid green paint work with the polar white roll bar, set against absolute automotive minimalism, lets you know what you’re in for. It’s impossible to ingress or egress with any elegance. From the get-go, the Caterham 420 Cup makes you work for absolutely everything. As I was asking if the good folks at Caterham had a spare crash helmet I could borrow for the week, I was questioning whether this was really such a good idea at all, and I’ve been fortunate enough to drive Caterhams before. Was this just too extreme?
Naturally, it was the hottest day of the year as I set off. Naturally, the M25 was largely at gridlock. Another modern comfort I was suddenly missing, too, was a satnav. Back to old school; read the signs and trust your judgement.
Once you’re up and running, it’s surprisingly amenable, so long as you get the settings right. With Bilstein 10-point adjustable dampers, there’s a range to the Caterham 420 Cup that isn’t present in some of its stable mates. You have to adjust them yourself, before you start thinking we’re getting too modern, but it’s as easy as scrolling through the numbers, with one being softest and 10 hardest. If you’re on a longer run, it’s well worth softening them up. The ride quality becomes surprisingly supple and comfortable, at odds with expectations.
One thing you won’t do in a Caterham 420 Cup, however, is fly under the radar. Sitting in traffic on a red hot day in an acid green car and a crash helmet drew a fair bit of attention. Whilst I was longing for a bit of AC, the bursts of clear road provided a firm reminder as to what the intentions are here.
It’s also a car that you have to plan ahead in order to drive. There’s a check list of things to remember. The battery master cut off switch, a helmet, the key and the steering wheel. You’ll want to remove the latter to aid ingress and egress, lest they look any more cumbersome. Once you’ve clambered inside, got yourself set and into the four-point racing harness, it’s a terrible moment at which to realise you’ve left the key or the cut off switch in the kitchen. That will happen.
The helmet is probably only necessary if you’re above a certain height. I’m 6”2 and my eyeline was just above where the aero deflector was effective once seated.
So, the Caterham 420 Cup is no getaway car. Once you’re in position, however, everything clicks into place.
The driving position is immaculate and the view of the road unparalleled. At 3.1m long (with the long chassis, as tested) and 1.58m wide, it’s such an easy car to manoeuvre. It may not have power steering, but parking such a small car is easy in other ways. Not that you’ll often find yourself hunting for a space at your local supermarket. It’s probably quicker to walk once all the faffing has been factored in.
So, you find yourself looking for a journey without a destination. And that’s when the Caterham 420 Cup really comes to life. Once you get above 40mph it becomes too noisy to hold down a conversation, so it’s best to embrace the solitude and drive. Caterham has aimed the 420 Cup at a niche crowd of track day enthusiasts who don’t want to compete. They want a car that can be driven to the track, rather than transported.
The upshot of this is a racing car for the road. It’s a visceral experience; loud, fast and all encompassing. The sequential gearbox means you needn’t bother with the clutch for upshifts. Keep your right foot down, wait for the engine to howl, the shift lights on the dash to flash red and pull down. The shifts are instant and the Caterham 420 Cup keeps surging forward.
It’s very short geared. This means a blistering 0-60mph time of just 3.6secs as you pull through the cogs, but a slower top speed. But who cares? You won’t want to be Autobahn cruising in this.
On the move, the steering becomes light and you can feel every sensation through it. Few cars offer such engagement and the beauty is that you don’t need to be driving in a licence-losing manner to enjoy the Caterham 420 Cup.
There are many reasons not to buy a Caterham 420 Cup. I cut the index finger on my left hand, bruised my right shin, bruised the knuckles of my left hand (the dash is way too close to the gear leaver), sweated an unholy amount, was left exhausted after every drive and, as tested, it costs £67,000.
And yet… no other car does any of that. It’s illogical, but that’s kind of its USP. Even in the Caterham range there are more practical options. I reviewed the Caterham 620S a couple of years ago and it offers the same performance with a softer edge. The Caterham 420 Cup, however, is unapologetic – and unforgiving – in its aim.
Once you’ve reached the redline and slammed it into the next gear, the whole thing makes sense. Stiffen the dampers for track use, soften them off to drive home. The difference is marked and there’s a lot of fun to be had by finding your sweet spot. Along a particularly undulating stretch of local road I did it in the softest setting, then the firmest. During the latter, I had to pull over and reset it to the softest. It totally transforms the car, offering nuance to the experience. Of course, if you just want to go everywhere sideways you can keep it rock solid at the rear and squidgy at the front.
The Caterham 420 Cup, then, is most certainly a car you’d have to be pining for in order to justify. But it engages you like nothing else can. Being so close to the road, so close to the elements and with the whole experience tangible, every road becomes your own personal track. Is it too extreme? Only by design. It straddles the line between road and track just about perfectly.
