Ah, the entry level Caterham.
Correct, this is the £22,990 Caterham 170S – the cheapest model you can buy. Although it won’t be by the time you’ve finished with it.
Why’s that?
Have a crack on Caterham’s configurator. If you’re interested in the 170S – and I’ll tell you why you should be – you won’t be selecting limited slip diffs and carbon seats, but you will be unable to resist the little cosmetic lifts that are so temptingly priced at £50 or £100 here and there. Depending on your thoughts on skinned knuckles and family harmony, the big question is whether to ask Caterham to build it for you. That’s the big bill: another £2,595.
I’d have mine close to this – although that might be because I’m driving it in spring and the colour combo works on a bright, fresh day and suits the car down to a tee. All I’d change is the wheels. You have to have these 14-inch Juno rims, but you can have them black (£100) or anthracite (£200). Go on, push the boat out. Have the biscuit tan leather too (£1,500), but don’t bother with the £800 LED headlights. You’re not going to be driving this at night.
So why do I want a 170S instead of a proper Caterham?
You mean one with a slippy diff and carbon seats? Because this is the antithesis. If you’ve always found Caterhams a bit serious-minded and racey, the 170S is here to show you another way. It’s a game little fun-haver, never intimidating or borderline psychotic. It’s a car for pottering about in. It’s also the ultimate urban sports car.
What the hell is an urban sports car?
I just invented it. Or rather Caterham did. This little thing scoots around town joyfully. It’s tiny, it’s happy, there’s no blaring exhaust, no issues with visibility, it’s quick off the mark (use second, because first is so short you’ll want second before the clutch is up), makes people smile, still sweeps around roundabouts with less effort and more speed than matey-boy’s tuned Corsa VXR, only puts out 109 CO2s and treads lightly in everything it does.
Tuck the shopping down the passenger footwell. Get home before the ice cream melts due to heat soak through the transmission tunnel. Then remember it’s only a teensy 660cc turbocharged three cylinder that produces as much heat as an LED lightbulb. So do another lap of town anyway. There’s room for some new shoes and a summer outfit in the boot as well – because let’s face it, you’re not going to be buying XXXL.
Indeed. How much space is there in the cockpit?
Shoes: up to size 10. Height: maybe a squeak more than 6’1”. Weight: it’s not polite to discuss such matters. But I’m going to anyway, because I’ve got a reference point I can deal with. My brother is a solid 6’2” and 95kg. He could get in, but not operate, the 170S. It’s for small fry. Like his brother (5’9”, 75kg). However, I still struggled to operate the car with him in the passenger seat, and had to remember to wear narrow-soled size 9s so I didn’t hit multiple pedals together. Think you’re going to be borderline? Maybe spec the £150 quick release wheel.
One more thing: you can’t have the SV widebody with the 170 version. What you can have – and this one had – is a lowered floor. For £500 you sit an inch or two closer to the tarmac. Don’t buy it for that reason (the sensation isn’t any more visceral), buy it for the improved driving position that allows you to turn the steering without clattering your knees.
Run me through the spec.
The Suzuki-sourced turbo motor produces 84bhp and 85lb ft at 4,500rpm. Rear drive, five speed manual, 0-60mph in 6.9secs, 105mph, 58.3mpg. It weighs 465.5kg. Clearly that last half a kilo is important. The 180bhp/tonne power to weight ratio betters both Ford Fiesta ST and Mini Cooper S.
Is it fast enough?
Not if you want to tackle a track. Or a motorway for that matter. It’ll zip up to, well, the speed limit, but much beyond that it runs out of puff. This is happiest in the 30-70mph zone, surfing the mid-range torque and minimal lag and listening to the turbo chirrup and flutter like a snoozy owl on the overrun.
It’s one of the very few modern cars (it’s basically this and Toyota’s GR Yaris) that’s happy and performs well on narrow country lanes. Under 3.2 metres long, less than 1.5 wide. It’s bloody tiny. A VW Up dwarfs it. Slender roads enhance the sense of speed, and if you want still more, remove the doors so the wind roars through. Although in actual fact the extra drag is probably reducing your acceleration. Anyway, it’s quick enough for the job it sets out to do.
And what is that job?
Being happy and delivering a good balance of power to grip. 84bhp, meet 165-width rear tyres. You make a good team. You can spec a diff, but I wouldn’t, and instead enjoy the inside wheel chirrup when it loses purchase. This is not a precision Caterham that values traction and cornering speeds, it just gambols about.
And like a spring lamb, it occasionally gets caught out. The rear springs are soft, and if the road is bumpy, the 170S can bounce around. Slow down, you’ve reached the limit. Because the footwell is tight and the brakes sensitive, it’s easy to lock them up if you’re clumsy or trying too hard. Again, slow down, you’ve reached the limit.
Instead relax and enjoy the sensations being fed back to you. The steering is glorious, the chassis is a honey, everything happens at low, non-obnoxious speeds. The gearshift is tight, the gearing short, a passenger significantly affects acceleration, weight distribution, rear-axle grip, traction and bounce, not to mention the driving position.
How does a passenger affect the driving position?
The seat slides, but the only other choice you have when driving is elbows in or elbows out. Tuck ‘em by your sides, or push one into the door and rest the other on the centre console. Have a passenger and that choice is taken away from you. Plus you’ll only jab them in the ribs every time you tug the gearlever backwards. Don’t forget to option the £95 armrest on the doors. It prevents pins and needles in your hands.
Would you have this over the 170R?
The 170R is the 25kg lighter, more sporting version with Quaife diff, sports suspension, carbon dash, harnesses and non-padded seats. It’s an extra £1,000, but for me, it’s trying to act the part of a fast Caterham, without the necessary speed and ability. To my mind the 170S fulfils a more natural role. It’s laid back, has nothing to prove, doesn’t understand the concept of max attack.
It’s a car for local adventures on small roads. Or nipping around cities. Honestly, at either of those things, it’s an absolute hoot. Keep it close to home, use it when the weather’s good, laugh along with it and I guarantee it’ll bowl you over so much you’ll soon forget that you’ve paid £30,000 for an 84bhp tin bathtub.
Keyword: Caterham 170S review: an absolute hoot for local adventures