My first surprise in the M400 is just how conventional it feels. Sure, you sit low, and there are harnesses on the Sparco seats, but there's a three-point inertia seat-belt too. The seats are 15mm closer to the centre of the car than in other Noble M12s, to increase headroom (for crash-helmeted track days). The steering wheel adjusts for reach, the pedals are hinged from above, there's a small but effective left foot-rest and the gearlever is at just the 'right' height on the transmission tunnel. The interior feels okay. Not overly special, but adequately well finished. The clutch is positive, not too heavy, but the heaviest of the three pedals. Drop the positive, six-speed Getrag-Ford gearbox into first, and we're off; it's as easy as driving a Mondeo. It feels light, and simple to place, as well it might given its compact dimensions. Visibility's not bad either, the rear-view sees through the small upright rear screen and there are decent-sized, manually-adjustable wing mirrors.
Pootling out of Barwell, we pass nearby Hinckley, home of not only Triumph motorbikes, but also where a previous Lee Noble (Noble's MD and Chief Designer, the brains behind it all) creation is still built, the Ultima sports car. Through towns, the M400 demonstrates a compliant low-speed ride and surprise number two: impressive tractability at low-revs, despite its specific output of 141bhp/litre. The throttle isn't overly responsive through town, but I suspect it'll pick up a bit as the revs climb.
 |
| '400' for '400 bhp/tonne.' Well, 401, but who's counting |
 |
And so it proves. My passenger, Director Stuart, gets lucky: the roads are largely dry on our test, so I get to give the M400 the berries with less fear of me throwing it into a ditch. (No traction control, see.) And believe me, if you give the M400 the berries, it's astonishing. There isn't a whip-crack change in engine note or a hefty kick up the backside. As the turbos spool boost, revs rise merely enthusiastically at first but then, accompanied by mild whooshing noises and one of the finest six-cylinder crescendos around, it just reels in the horizon with phenomenal speed as revs peal towards the 7,200rpm limiter. Even at full whack, the impression's still one of soft, gathering acceleration, though; it feels stronger the longer you keep your foot on the pedal. Imagine being a tiny man attached to the end of an extended tape measure as it's being wound in by the springs and you get the idea.
