Car
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1985 Caterham 7 SuperSprint
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Miles this month
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373
|
Latest costs
|
Nil (except oil etc.)
|
The first long run in the Caterham was early September on
the Carrotland Big Blat. Organised by the chaps in the local section of the
Lotus 7 club it wound its way across Suffolk and Norfolk ending up at RAF
Marham. Carrotland is the slightly self-effacing name for the combined
Suffolk/Norfolk area – obviously referencing its rural nature.
The start point was at Stonham Barns and being close to home and a little unsure of the format we were one of the first to arrive. We
looked at the other cars arriving as they assembled and it was soon obvious
that being a 1985 Kent Crossflow ours was one of the oldest cars there – and
one of the few with full front wings. It’s the fashion to have the smaller
cycle wings on the cars now and I’m in two minds what I prefer.
One thing that always strikes me when I see a
mass of Sevens is the variety of colours, wheels, roll cages, seats etc. Given
they are basically the same car (and have been since the first Lotus 7 in 1957)
none are the same - there were similar cars but I could not spot an identical
one. All the cars there were Caterhams though not a single Lotus. At the other
end of the age scale Oliver was probably the youngest driver – so between us we
captured both ends of the spectrum. We signed on – had the obligatory bacon
butty and waited for the off.
We were one of the first teams let loose and Oliver did
first leg from Stonham Barns to Thwaite St Mary which was supposed to be about
60 miles. The roads first took us back South and then across East into deepest
Suffolk – headed for the coast and then swerved inland again. All the roads we
empty and many strait or gentry curved – excellent blatting routes thanks to
the organisers. Oliver obviously enjoyed himself – even with a nervous father
pointing out SLOW marks in the road. Pushing the car hard it responded with the
raw energy of a highly tuned four cylinder and surprised several other drivers
with its pace – not to mention the petrol/oil bouquet coming out of the howling
exhaust.
The only blot was one mid-route, where an incomplete set of diversion signs saw many of us lost and circling through villages time and time again
much to the bemusement of the locals and other Caterhams going in opposite
directions.
Finally we hooked up with a group who had a sat-nav and some idea
of where they were so we found our way back to the route. I guess we’d added
20+ miles to the leg though and an exhausted and hot Oliver was glad to get out
and rest.
When we stopped for the break we talked to other blatters
and how they got lost/found etc. and compared cars. We also decided to try to
follow someone else on the second leg – as navigating was going to be Oliver’s
job next. I took the next stint and as we swept through the country lanes
pressed the car hard – listening to the mechanical engine revving you could
almost hear the oil splashing on the valves and the parts turning it was so
alive.
I was having so much fun that I declined the last fuel
stop and ran on. However, as we approached the airbase the fuel gauge hit zero
- I’d been watching the needle drop alarmingly quickly for a while as it does
when it passes half empty - but I’d gambled on a bit more range. We made the
base on fumes and although we asked around there was no petrol we could have on
site.
A bit worried and deflated we chatted to teams over
lunch, including a Father/Son-in-law couple that were bonding over the car the
father having 2 uninterested daughters. Chatting we found out that people had
come as far as Surrey and Wales for the blat, as well as one of the closest a chap and his wife from the
next village to us in Suffolk. It was obvious that everyone had thoroughly
enjoyed themselves.
We tagged on to the back of the line of cars assembling
for the photo shoot in case we ran dry and as a consequence found ourselves embarrassingly in
the best place in the grid of cars in front of the Tornado jet fighter.
Leaving we pottered as quietly as we could – even
coasting down-hill with other Caterhams overtaking us wondering why. As we
looked for the local garage the gauge went below the empty mark but we made it
- to find they only sold 3 star. I decided to fill up anyway, give it a double
Octane boost and drive gently back.
One thing I learned is that 180 miles is the limit with
very gentle driving.
Overall it was a great turnout, with about 35 cars making
it to the final destination and others joining for part of the trip. Most cars
were two-up so about 60 enthusiastic members did the run and on a mostly fine
day only had to dodge the odd shower. We both enjoyed ourselves and will
definitely look to join another blat next year.
Next day having got home, but full of 3* I decided to
drain the tank and fill up with Super Unleaded. Using a small external fuel
pump that I had bought for the Alpine I carefully pumped the fuel out using the
battery charging connection as a convenient power off-take. Stupidly I then
crossed the wires trying to remove the clips, welding them to the fitting in a
shower of sparks. Another job on the list was to fix that.
Starting the car I also noticed it was not showing the usually very high
oil pressure when cold and checking it the oil was very low on the dipstick – in fact it
took several pints to top back up. So that’s one to watch after a few hundred
miles of very hard driving.
One things that has troubled me since owning the
car is what to call it. It is a Caterham Seven Super Sprint, but do I call it a
Seven – harking back to its origins – or a Caterham ? I’d like to think that as
it is one of the last S3 designed cars (Caterham re-started producing in 1974
after taking over the manufacture of the S4 a year earlier) that it is
therefore a “continuation” of the Seven. However, I’m currently sticking to
Caterham.
