Pretoria man's lofty height inspired him to build his very own 'Batmobile'

This is my year to experience all manner of motoring thingamabobs. From full-scale mining dump-trucks to three-wheeled oddities. But let's start here. I beat a path to Pretoria, tongue dragging along the scorched ground in pursuit of a drive in the tangerine device pictured before you.

Its designer and owner, Peter Horn, christened it the Lotus Can-Am. He could have named it Peter, Munchkins or even Vitamin C if he'd desired it.

He is well within his rights. It's a labour of love that rose like a phoenix from a number of Pretoria workshops as he and a clump of engineering experts built the car from the ground up, with their hands.

It's a spectacular-looking thing; long, wide and hunkered low on the road. Its dramatic styling harks back to a few notably intimidating shapes: an F1 car; the Batmobile and, of course, a Lotus.

MORE THAN THE SUM OF PARTS

In truth, he initially coveted a Cobra replica or a Lotus 7 but limitations thanks to his two-metre frame meant he had no hope of squeezing inside any of these famously pocket-sized icons.

No choice then but to base his creation on accommodating his lofty height first, and in the process, he unwittingly created a car so unique and rare it's essentially the only one of its kind.

It's also built from a fascinating mechanical parts bin. The door-less body is Lotus inspired (Elise front and Exige rear); while the sum of its crucial parts list BMW 3-Series (E46) suspension & brakes; a 4.0-litre V8 motor and automatic transmission from Lexus while all of this global representation is underpinned by a Lotus 7- inspired chassis.

Punchy in its styling and detailing, it also features a front screen frame from a retro Porsche; a front air-scoop from a Subaru Impreza; seats inspired by an Ariel Atom; a beautifully crafted rear-view mirror from a split-screen VW Kombi; a gear lever that could have come from a car operated by Vin Diesel and to top it all off, the rear boot lid used to belong to a classic VW Beetle.

Undeniably, the end product is as theatrical in execution as any modern-day supercar but for a significantly undercut price. The last car that I drove with equal shamelessness in the looks department was the R5-million Lamborghini Huracán. Peter says he stopped counting the cost to build but he is adamant that it's all below 300K.

THE TEST DRIVE

What's it like to drive? Because it's unconventionally built, and permanently open topped, I stand on my feet from the passenger side and take a single step for my turn behind the wheel.

With its four-point safety harness already fastened and, literally dangling inside its tub-like cabin sized specifically for the lanky owner, I can barely reach the pedals, nor can I wrap my fingers fully around its small steering wheel when I eventually roar up the N4 Rustenburg.

It's now 12.30pm and the sun is criminal in its intensity. The 4.0 V8 burbles deliciously with the increase in speed and every second car that passes hoots in approval. It's pleasingly startling how the entire drive experience persuades for no violence against tarmac, as you'd expect.

I find myself settled into a totally civil, calm and Sunday-ish engagement, playing conductor to the symphony of its mechanical musicality. I also find myself thinking that I could brave a mighty long drive down to Cape Town.

It would be a rambunctious episode but for the sake of sanity, the hard riding texture reminds me that in all likelihood my spleen would shatter long before Bloemfontein.

For its astonishing attractiveness, much like the Alfa Romeo 4C, it hides the radical pedigree of a race car, which, includes unboosted and ABS-free brakes despite earning the legal right to be on public roads.

Sadly, I'm in no position to provoke its true ability. I'm still flopping about in its cabin like dainty hors d'oeuvres in a driepoot pot so I hand it right back to Peter to make things a little more interesting.

Immediately the most remarkable aspect comes through when he winds up the engine and it barks, hard, as any blue-blooded Lambo, would and the sheer range of structure-borne vibrations it generates at full tilt, from skeleton-jarring to numbing a bum, is a love-or-loathe rawness.

All in all, the spirit of adventure and determination of a road racer is right there in its aesthetics as well as under the skin and below Peter's size 12 feet.

Any more changes envisaged? Yes, perhaps a supercharger. This will surely place it onto an entirely insane league of performance, but for now, all I want to know is if he is willing to build another one for me, and which I will perhaps name: The Slay King ZA.