Old snake, new tricks: driving the AC Cobra MkII

Its body is identical to that of the original model (save for being made from composite materials rather than aluminium) and, to my eyes at least, is the sweet spot of the Cobra dynasty, looking more like the AC Ace on which it was based rather than the MkIII with its Carlos Fandango tyres and steroidal arch extensions.

This MkII also retains a 3in tubular-steel ladder-frame chassis and rides on period-correct 15in wire wheels, just as before.

Mind, the thought of venturing on to these sodden roads in a 330bhp-per-tonne projectile with all-round leaf-spring suspension really does focus your mind.

But at least we can ease into our road trip at sane speeds. We’ve started at Brooklands because from 1988 and into the ’90s AC’s factory was situated along a now redeveloped section of the old Finishing Straight, after Brian Angliss’s Autokraft company acquired the rights to the AC name.

As well as continuing to build the Cobra MkIV, Angliss attempted a modern take on the Ace, but high development costs brought the company to its knees after only 50 cars had been built.

A more upbeat link with Brooklands can also be found from 1922 (the company’s history stretches back to even earlier in the last century), when an AC became the first 1500cc car to cover 100 miles in an hour on the old banked circuit.

Today, though, we’re struggling to even hit the urban speed limit as we wade our way across London’s western suburbs to our next destination.

Mercifully the rain has subsided, but since we’re roofless today, a tonneau cover protects the passenger side of the cabin for when it returns.

You sit low in the Cobra’s leather-trimmed bucket seat facing a deep dashboard ush/pull buttons – for heat, wipers and so on – and a further four unmarked flick-switches, one of which is for lights while the others remain a mystery for now.

A classic three-spoke, wood-rimmed steering wheel looks quite large for the cabin – although it’s probably ’60s-accurate – but no doubt calms your responses at high speeds, as well as giving you extra leverage at parking speeds for the unassisted rack.

It’s all in keeping with this car’s authenticity, though, so when you fire up the Cobra and shut your eyes, you could be on the starting grid at Goodwood’s Revival.

Exhausts exit either side of the car, and even at idle they produce a mellifluous rumble, with a portend of what’s to come.

The clutch is appropriately heavy and the gearlever located further back than you would expect. But with this much torque you can happily bumble around in top gear, with the engine turning at just 1000rpm at 30mph.

Thames Ditton, Surrey, is our next stop and the spiritual home of the original Cobra.

AC was based here from 1911, occupying the old Ferry Works, which still exists as a multi-business hub today. Brothers William and Charles Hurlock bought the business in 1930, and the company moved to another since-demolished site in town, now commemorated by a plaque on the side of a modern building.

It was here in 1961 that a Texan chap by the name of Carroll Shelby approached the Hurlocks after being impressed by their Ace model’s competition success.

Working for Ford, Shelby had been tasked with stealing some of the thunder GM had generated with its Chevrolet Corvette, and he had developed a new lightweight V8 for the purpose – one that, with a bit of angle-grinding, could be installed in AC’s Ace.

A deal was struck, giving Ford a ready-made Corvette challenger and AC a second, V8-powered wind for its by then eight-year-old Ace.

In February 1962, the first car from an initial order for 100 AC Cobras rolled out of the Thames Ditton factory, destined for Dean Moon’s Santa Fe Springs speed shop in the US where the new 260cu in (4.2-litre) engine would be fitted.

But after just 126 cars had been produced, a MkII emerged with rack and pinion steering (replacing the Ace’s steering box) and a larger, 289cu in engine making 270bhp.

In all, AC and Shelby produced just under 530 MkII Cobras before production ended in 1965 and switched to the fatter and even more powerful MkIII variant. 

But it’s this MkII version, with its narrower hips and skinnier tyres, that not only pays more heed to AC’s heritage but also is a better fit – both physically and aesthetically – for UK roads.

If proof were needed (and we decide it is), we motor south to Goodwood Motor Circuit, our next photo stop, on the A283 in West Sussex.

The Cobra is in its element on a twisty, relatively narrow, fast-moving road like this. It requires all your concentration, and to some extent courage, to maintain a decent pace, especially on gnarled, sometimes waterlogged surfaces.

But the rewards are manifold: smooth applications of the throttle are vital on the exit from bends in order not to excite the leaf-sprung rear end, but extend the Cobra’s V8 down the straights and you’re repaid with a soundtrack that’s as uniquely American as Gershwin or pumpkin pie. 

The hard-edged hammering of eight pistons working hard grows into a guttural roar as you trip past 4500rpm: it sounds so damned violent (but also intoxicating) that you’re tricked into believing the Cobra is travelling faster than it actually is.

AC estimates a five-second 0-60mph time, which feels about right, but there are few more dramatic ways to achieve that figure.

We pause in Petworth, a few miles north of Goodwood, for photographer Max to take some beauty shots of the Cobra.

I do a few slow circuits of the market town’s narrow, old-school one-way system while he snaps away, but the strident bark from the Cobra’s V8 – no matter how gently I stroke the throttle – seems to be at odds with Petworth’s genteel, antique shop vibe.

But no, not at all, it seems; in fact, quite the opposite.

Instead of being besieged by the local noise police when we park in the town square, a small army of middle-aged, well-to-do shop owners and residents descend upon the Cobra, grins on their faces and phone cameras at the ready, wanting me to explain why it’s so clearly ‘vintage’ yet wears ‘74’ registration plates.