Team Adventure
Danny Hopkins tours the Garden of England in a legend
Danny Hopkins celebrates 60 years of the E-type with a jolly good blast!
Crossing the high sill threshold and sinking yourself behind the wheel of an E-type Jaguar can never be anything but a boy’s own dream. It always brings out the inner child in me, a fact that I am careful to conceal when in the company fellow motoring journalists. Because all I want to do, as
I turn the key, adjust the choke and press the starter is grin like an idiot and punch the air. The view down the bonnet tells me I am in the hands of automotive angels, and that life doesn’t get much better than this – I try to keep it together.
I am at E-type UK in Hadlow, Kent, to indulge the fantasy. I am going to drive an E-type through the Garden of England. Two actually – a 1963 Series 1 six-cylinder car and then a 1972 Series 3 V12.
I offer no revelation in this article, everything that could ever have been written about the E-type, has been written, so I promise not to try to give you an exclusive or wax too lyrical. Just join me for the trip as I discover deepest Kent in a car that is the Spitfire of the roads. I will sample the genius and reflect on the anniversary; because the Jaguar E-type is about to get its bus pass… it will be 60 years old in 2021.
The best way to start this article, to give it a bit of structure and not go off on some sort of poetic tangent, is to ask a straightforward question.
Does the drive live up to the billing? Can it match the hype? I let the XK engine warm up before I set off to find the answer on a route that will take in much of the High Weald. I will head east to Goudhurst and Tenterden, before returning south via Wadhurst. First, though, I think about Norman Dewis.
On his legendary, 11-hour, trans-european ‘delivery’ blast in March 1961, Norman averaged 68mph over 600 miles in 77 RW, the E-type convertible he was instructed to urgently despatch to the Geneva Motor Show. During the drive, a drive that would help change the face of motoring, something remarkable happened.
In north London, Norman roared towards the first set of lights on the Edgware Road. They turned green and so did the next and the next and the next. Norman managed to get through every light – green all the way, 60mph, straight through to the West End. If you ever want a metaphor for how it feels to drive an E-type, that’s it right there.
The route I’ve plotted doesn’t give me much in the way of traffic lights to contend with, but the Jag has plenty of B-roadery within which it can stretch its wheels. Dewis completed the delivery miles from the MIRA test track to Geneva non-stop – he described it as having been accomplished ‘without incident’. Immediately it is obvious why… the Series 1 is capable of high speeds over sustained over
‘I am in the hands of automotive angels: life doesn’t get better than this’
long distances. Like all good Grand Tourers it delivers comfort over distance. But at the same time, its sports car soul encourages the driver to be ambitious… and normally I would add a word of caution here, but not today. The boys at E-type UK have prepared this car and its competence is unquestioned.
As I take another set of curves at close to the limit, I am confident and in control – and there is a reason. For me, the E-type’s greatest attribute is not the 3.8-litre XK, or the torsional rigidity of the monocoque. It isn’t the beauty of the design or the driving position. Nope, the rear axle and suspension is king. Compliant and predictable, it handles everything the real world road surface throws at it. My ineptitude is catered for ably as I take corners too quickly, have to adjust mid-manouevre or miss gears. Everything I throw at it is forgiven by this brilliant piece of engineering, one that was still being bolted to the back end of Jaguars in the Nineties. The rear axle makes the Series 1 feel younger than it should, it makes me look good.
This must have blown people’s minds in 1961.
Back at E-type UK, I glance over my shoulder at the early coupé. I want to find fault, something to chew on. Nope. It’s pretty much perfect.
Time to go cruising
Next, I climb aboard an entirely different beast. The Series III V12 shared that rear axle, but very little else. This white
1972 convertible is another superbly prepared car, so
I have no qualms in jumping in and heading back to the countryside, this time taking the A21 and A268 to Rye. Yes… the V12 is an
A-road car, not a B-road car. Built for cruising over the long haul, it is comfortable and supremely competent. The power is delivered so smoothly that on more than one occasion it catches me out and the back end twitches. Where the XK tells you exactly what is happening – as it happens – the V12 keeps its revs to itself until your realise there a few too many horses being supplied.
Which means I’m less comfortable pressing on. I cruise instead, knowing I have the power if required. It does make me think though. Would Norman have made it to Geneva as easily if he had to supply the Series III? I forgive this Americanised roadster with its Seventies paunch. It is still recognizably an E-type despite the huge gob and larger proportions. I love the steel wheels on this example and the sense of effortless power is something that will never grow old. Offer me both and of course I’ll take the early car, but the Series III is a fine way to travel, and perfect for its purpose.
Both cars, these days, are out of reach for most, with wallet cowering prices: this is where the problems start for me. It has nothing to do with the cars. All day, at the back of my mind, I have been worrying. Parking in Tenterden to buy a cup of tea, I kept my eyes on the Series I ‘just in case’.
When working both cars hard I had buttocks clenched; not because I was
‘Happy 60th to the Jaguar E-type, you have earned your bus pass…’
worried about stuffing it, but because I didn’t want to incur the huge cost of any damage – even slight. It wasn’t always like this. Remember when they were cheap? When you could ‘use’ them?
When my dad’s mate, Bev, turned up in a slightly shoddy Series 1 at our home in 1977 and took me for a spin, we got up on two wheels around a roundabout. That carefree ‘let’s see what it’ll do’ attitude is why God invented sports cars. You would have to be richer than God to manhandle these cars in the same way today. And that’s an inevitable pity – their value means a little bit of the fun has gone. Small quibble over… happy birthday E-type. Today has made 2020 just that bit more bearable.