Looking at the sheer number of parts and the thickness of the build manual, I did wonder if I’d taken on a bit more than I could cope with! I spent two and a bit weeks closeted in the garage building it. \r\n\r\nIf you follow the conventional build order, you start by swearing at the bolts that hold the front suspension together. You then move on to swearing at the rivets that hold the interior together. Then you get the shakes, nervously lowering a 150kg Ford 1.6-litre lump into an engine bay that is obviously far too small for it, using an engine hoist that you first saw that morning and have no idea how to operate. You can then move on to the serious swearing – fitting the differential and the rear running gear. I know one Caterham owner who built the car in an integrated garage under his daughter’s bedroom, apparently her vocabulary expanded significantly during the build process. There then follows some mild swearing at the rear suspension, a few suspiciously quiet hours on bodywork, and a resumption of profanity as you try to fit the driver’s seat. By the end of this process, most builders are able to manipulate a bolt into its hole and tighten it up simply by issuing a stream of carefully-chosen expletives – masculine for bolts and feminine for nuts, of course.\r\n\r\nOnce you’ve done all that, you get to pour various flammable or irritant liquids into various orifices \r\n\r\nthickness of the build manual, I did wonder if I’d taken on a bit more than I could cope with! I spent two and a bit weeks closeted in the garage building it. \r\n\r\nIf you follow the conventional build order, you start by swearing at the bolts that hold the front suspension together. You then move on to swearing at the rivets that hold the interior together. Then you get the shakes, nervously lowering a 150kg Ford 1.6-litre lump into an engine bay that is obviously far too small for it, using an engine hoist that you first saw that morning and have no idea how to operate. You can then move on to the serious swearing – fitting the differential and the rear running gear. I know one Caterham owner who built the car in an integrated garage under his daughter’s bedroom, apparently her vocabulary expanded significantly during the build process. There then follows some mild swearing at the rear suspension, a few suspiciously quiet hours on bodywork, and a resumption of profanity as you try to fit the driver’s seat. By the end of this process, most builders are able to manipulate a bolt into its hole and tighten it up simply by issuing a stream of carefully-chosen expletives – masculine for bolts and feminine for nuts, of course.\r\n\r\nOnce you’ve done all that, you get to pour various flammable or irritant liquids into various orifices (it’s a good idea to get the right liquids in the right orifices) and you sit in the driver’s seat, turn the key, hold it there for what seems an eternity, and then the previously inanimate lump of metal, rubber and fibreglass held together with nuts, bolts, blood, sweat and tears splutters into life and becomes a car - your car. And it truly is yours, in a way that no other car ever will be or ever could be. Admittedly, that is mainly because some people are strangely reluctant to get into a car after hearing that you built it yourself, but we’ll gloss over that. This moment is very special; in my case it was caught on camera and the slightly maniacal laugh that erupted involuntarily seems to be a firm favourite on YouTube. Only my massive crash in the first lap of my very first race has more views. \r\n\r\nVisit Michael’s YouTube Channel at\r\nwww.youtube.com/user/patentlyrubbish