It's an argument that's plagued pubs, cafes and offices for generations. Each side has strong opinions. The bikers attack with flowery descriptions of how fast a litre sports bike is whilst the car drivers parry with vague descriptions of contact patches and braking ability. As the conversation rolls on, each side becomes more entrenched and less willing to concede. Before you know it, the bikers are claiming that a car will never beat a bike around the TT circuit, and the drivers are pointing out that MotoGP bikes are slower than an F1 car around Silverstone. The discussion doesn't really move after it reaches this point, aside from each tribe making unfounded assertions about the other tribes' mothers. It's high-brow stuff, naturally.
The crux of the problem is that bikes are cars are too different. While commonality exists in their ability to get a human being from one place to another, there's not much more to it. It's like trying to compare a microwave to a dishwasher. Sure, both appliances exist in your kitchen but pointing out that a dishwasher is terrible for heating a chicken tikka masala is as silly as telling someone a Panigale is useless for taking a family of 5, with luggage, for a week at Center Parcs.
Nevertheless, in the interests of science, I'm going to compare a car and a bike. For this little comparison, I've made the same journey in my silly little car and my big fat bike. The journey is a 220-mile round trip from my home in Cambridgeshire to the excellent Caffeine & Machine near Ettington in Warwickshire. It comprises a reasonably even mix of A-roads, B-roads, a sprinkling of motorway and some real backwater tracks. There's also an allowance for me getting a bit lost on both occasions due to my shameful reliance on Google Maps.
Is it a fair comparison?
Of course not. It'll never be a fair comparison when you're pitching cars against motorbikes. The car I used for this comparison is a Caterham Seven 420R. It's a little green bathtub with a 210bhp Ford Duratec engine sellotaped to the inside. The bike is my trusty Honda Africa Twin Adventure Sports. You wouldn't be wrong if you thought comparing these two vehicles is ludicrous, but let's power through it. These are two machines with very different purposes. The car should spend its time on hot, dry circuits whilst the bike should do everything apart from spending its time on hot, dry circuits. However, as wildly different as they are, they share one significant figure. Taking my weight into account – which is an area I'm not going to go into – they both have power-to-weight ratios of around 325bhp/t. So let's carry on with this pointless comparison.
Comfort and Practicality
Neither of these vehicles is a Rolls-Royce Phantom, so comfort will be a relative measure here. The Caterham is a noisy, cramped, rattling crate. I imagine the Norweigan bobsleigh team experience more space and comfort in their professional transport than I do in the Seven. Though I suspect they also enjoy a similar level of excitement. The bike is the opposite. It's smooth, and spacious, and can glide over speedbumps as if they didn't exist. However, the bike does have one notable comfort-related problem. No matter how small, large, round or pointy your bum is, sooner or later, it's going to fall asleep whilst riding a motorbike. Even Kim Kardashian would be begging for a pillow and a bacon sandwich after a few hours on a Ducati.
Nevertheless, I’ll always take the bike for longer journeys. The Africa Twin comes with cruise control, heated grips, and decent luggage capacity. Moreover, integrated Android Auto provides navigation and music, which is a real boon on those longer rides. It's surprising how refreshed I feel after completing a 300-mile stint on the bike whilst listening to Kenny Loggins. Due to its vast 24.8-litre fuel tank, I can also eke out a good 325 miles without needing to refuel. It’s an impressive machine.
The Caterham is something else. The preparation for driving the Seven is worse than for the bike. After I’ve remembered where I’ve left the removable steering wheel and battery cut-off switch, I have to wheel it out of the garage, mess about with harnesses, remember I’ve left the steering wheel in the kitchen, undo the harnesses, get the steering wheel, redo the harnesses and then spend ten minutes warming it up to avoid stalling before I get to the end of the street. It doesn’t like cold running. It’s a faff.
The faff and hassle make the Caterham a poor option for short trips into town. The lack of comfort and practicality paired with the incessant noise and clattering make it equally unbearable for long journeys. However, there is a sweet spot. On sunny days, enjoying smooth, winding B-roads on the way to a lovely country pub - so long as it's within a 75-mile radius - it’s unbeatable. Yes, I know that sounds like a tired motoring cliché, but it’s oh so true. And why 75 miles? Because that’s half a tank of petrol. The range isn’t great.
Thrills and Enjoyment
Eugh. This isn’t going to be easy. Both offer thrills, and if I were forced at gunpoint to choose which is more fun, I’d be shot. I’ve had moments with each of them where I’ve had that feeling of deep, visceral joy that I wouldn’t trade for anything else. However, the Africa Twin was designed to do many things well and succeeds in that endeavour. The Seven has one job; to be fun.
On the basis that the Caterham was built purely to provide fun, I’m going to say it offers the same amount of entertainment as the bike but provides it more of the time. The baseline has to be how enjoyable the car and bike are when they shouldn’t be. For both vehicles, that situation is when the weather is terrible. Riding in the rain and wind can be a truly miserable experience. I’m not saying the Caterham is a joy in those conditions, but there’s still an element of fun to be had in giving it a little too much throttle when exiting roundabouts.
Crucially, both vehicles are capable of good ‘flow’. Flow is the persistent feeling of getting things right and is a byproduct of good handling. You know when you get that nice warm feeling while connecting a series of bends in a particularly satisfying manner? That's good flow. Some vehicles have great flow, and they’re the special ones. You could give me the most powerful car or bike in the world, but if it’s not capable of good flow, it’s not for me—the journey over the destination.
Time, Pace and Cost
In terms of time and pace, there’s no winner. It takes the same amount of time on the bike as in the car. Where the Caterham makes time with its ability to traverse twists and turns that embarrass the bike, the bike claws it back in its ability to filter through traffic and deal with speed bumps. The only way the bike edges it is that I don’t need to stop for fuel. Assuming I set off from home with a full tank in each, I’d have to stop on the way back home in the Caterham to refuel. The bike can complete the 220-mile round trip and still have a fair few bars showing on the fuel gauge.
We also can’t forget about the cost of the journey. We’ve all thought about how much we’re pouring into our tanks with the current price of fuel. Given a cost of £1.90 for a litre of unleaded, performing the round trip in the Caterham would cost me £55.34, whereas the bike performs the same job for ‘just’ £26.04. For the price difference, I could take the bike, consume two of Caffeine & Machine’s delicious cajun jackfruit pizzas, quaff a pint and still be better off than if I’d taken the Seven. I haven’t eaten two pizzas in one go, just for the record. I just like to know that I could. The bike also wins in terms of purchasing and maintenance. At just £17,703.49, the Africa Twin seems like a bargain compared to the whopping £45,075 a factory-built 420R costs. I can’t calculate how many extra pizzas I would have to buy to bridge that gap.
As the years roll by, the Caterham is setting me back £295/year in VED, compared to just £101/year for the bike. Both vehicles’ maintenance costs are relatively low, although the Caterham does appear to eat rear tyres more quickly than is ideal. The only real positive for the car is that I don’t have to wear £2,500 worth of PPE equipment to drive it. All I need is a baseball cap and some shades. You know, just to look cool.
And the winner is…
I guess the fairest way to pick a winner would be to say which of the two I would choose for my next trip to Caffeine & Machine. I’ve performed the trip in both, and the next trip would be the decider. Exciting! The problem is, I just don’t know. As I said at the start, this is all pointless. Different people like different things, and some of those people can like both things but on different days. As I write this, the sun is shining. I could pick up the keys to either the bike or the car, go out and have an enormous amount of fun. I know I wouldn’t regret the choice because I know there will be other sunny days. We buy and run vehicles we love, and it doesn’t matter if people have a different opinion because we’ve made the choices that work for us. The only poor decision is to sit inside typing while the sun is shining, and the keys are within reach...
