Shelby Cobra review

Never in the field of modern motoring has a smaller key unleashed a bigger noise. You grab the dainty little key between finger and thumb and twist, sparking not an engine, but some sort of localised volcanic eruption. And now you’re riding this on-going geological event, the whole car trembling and buzzing and shaking so hard you fear for the longevity of the engine mounts. It’s like Wreck-it-Ralph is punching each cylinder up and down, while someone underneath the car appears to be letting off a belt-fed shotgun.

Yes, everything you thought, read or heard about a 7.0-litre carburettored Cobra is true. Modern supercars aren’t like this. They yelp into life, maybe buzz noisily for a bit, but soon settle. But in this you’re sitting there amongst the mayhem, grinning inanely and feeling like this is all you’ve ever wanted and electric cars can just bugger off and die. It’s a deeply primal response.

I get you. So what happens when you get moving?

Well, actually getting it moving is very simple. Provided you can press the clutch. As long as you can do that (and summon up similar power for the unservoed brakes in the 427), you’ll be fine. Because you don’t need to apply any throttle, just ease up on the clutch and the engine does the rest.

The gearlever moves way more precisely than you expect, slotting cleanly and mechanically around the gate. It likes a heel ‘n’ toe to smooth the downchanges, and so do you because it’s a legit excuse to brrraaapp the throttle another time. So you do it on upshifts too. And when you pass under bridges, next to walls, or in the vicinity of anything that might bounce the sound around.

Does it feel genuinely fast?

Absolutely. In the way that all cars that have more power than their chassis can happily cope with do. Both engines major on torque. The 427 is lumpy low down, but that doesn’t stop it hauling hard on not much more than a whiff of throttle. Once it gets going airflow through the exhausts blends the gunshots together, the engine smooths out and from 3-5,000rpm it feels pretty bloody tremendous. It’s perfectly good above there too, but you’re aware of the engine having to work harder, of the speed the pistons are now travelling at, the thrashing becomes maybe a little too intense. Torque peaks at 3,700rpm and that’s where the 7.0-litre is happiest.

The 5.0-litre with modern fuelling and timing, is well-behaved everywhere and just as charismatic. That’s the engine we’d rather have. In both, the gearbox is tremendous. You shuttle up and down using the long lever, allowing each gear a burst of acceleration before trying the next one up. It’s not about getting the most from each gear, but about letting the car work where it's happiest.

Will it cope with a twisty road? 

Not as happily as a straight one. The ride quality isn’t great and structural stiffness has come on light years over the last six decades. It grips well because the tyres are so fat, and doesn’t roll much because it is light and stiffly suspended. But the handling isn’t as tactile and informative as you might expect. It can be a bit wayward.

You get the impression that it could be a complete handful. In fact, simply trying to keep up with a hot hatch on a good road is quite a struggle. It’s the filtering process that’s missing. You’re getting so much information as each wheel bounces and skips about, as the steering fights, as the engine thrusts and burps, that detecting the signals you do want is tricky. And it’s very physical of course.

The 427’s unassisted steering requires you to swing it into tight corners with your shoulders, to lean with it like a pre-war Grand Prix driver, and that’s not conducive to delicacy and finesse. We drove that car on the smooth roads of Arizona, the CSX 10000 in the UK. That car, at least, had power steering, which made the world of difference. Don’t be tempted to go full old school with a Cobra. It’ll bite.

Best at just cruising about?

Emphatically. In fact we’d argue that the planet has never come up with a better car for woofling about in on a summer’s day. That’s when the Cobra feels fabulous, when you have your arm resting on the doortop, looking out past the skinny-framed windscreen with its surprisingly effective tacked-on deflectors, out over the voluptuous bonnet and the priapic pulsating V8 beneath it, just soaking up the experience. Travelling fast in a Cobra is hard work. Slowing down and soaking it all in is plain epic.