Jaguar XF proves its mettle while chasing tornadoes
Sedan’s all-wheel drive, horsepower make it well-suited for a quick escape
“There are just so many hazards when you’re chasing a tornado,” says “Tornado” Tim Baker in his Midwest U.S. drawl.
“You can get hailstones the size of grapefruits that will take out all the windows of your car. You need to worry about flash floods that’ll take you off the road, and if you’re on a dirt road, that can turn into a mud trap. And imagine a 300-m.p.h. (480 km/h) wind — that will take a solid brick house and wipe it clear off the foundations, there’s nothing left. But the worst for me? Well, I’m scared to death of lightning. You can be five miles from a storm and lightning can come down on you.”
And Baker should know, being a man with 20 years of experience hunting down some of the most powerful tornadoes that America has ever seen.
We’ve joined Baker on the eve of what promises to be the most tur- bulent storm activity of the year in the American Midwest.
The car we’re using in our hunt is a Jaguar XF with all-wheel drive, which Baker says is more appropriate than you might think.
“People are so surprised at the car I use to track. It’s not an SUV or pickup truck, which so many people think are the vehicles to use. I like sedans like this one, especially sports sedans, because they’re built low profile, so they’re ideal in high winds,” he says.
And the Jaguar’s technical specifications are particularly reassuring. Its supercharged all-aluminum 3.0-litre V-6 pumps out 340 horsepower, with 332 pound-feet of torque on tap from just 3,500 r.p.m.
When you want to waft about gently, the XF is supremely refined and quiet. But if you need to hustle, it’ll get to 100 km/h in just 5.4 seconds with a delicious snarl from that turbo V-6.
Even better, our car features allwheel drive, an element that could be crucial if we find ourselves on gravel roads in torrential rain. Baker says that scenario is also virtually guaranteed. Called Intelligent Driveline Dynamics, Jaguar’s all-wheel-drive system normally delivers all of the engine’s torque to the rear wheels, unless it detects a loss of traction, in which case torque is also shuffled to the front axles.
Early morning, we head east from Des Moines, Iowa, toward Davenport, which sits by the Mississippi River on the border between Iowa and Illinois. Baker uses the onboard Wi-Fi hot spot to monitor the government’s Storm Prediction Center (SPC) analysis, which does pretty much what its title suggests.
We get to Davenport and cool our heels while Tim focuses his unblinking attention on the SPC data. Suddenly Baker goes ballistic, jumping out of the car and pointing at seemingly innocuous, small clouds on the horizon.
“There it is!” he yells, “That is the beginning! We’ve got our storm, boys!”
We head out fast, barrelling down farm roads amid cornfields.
Suddenly, terrifying spikes of lightning all around.
We head toward the intercept point and all hell breaks loose. I have never felt rain so hard; it sounds like the car is being showered with marbles and the wipers can barely keep up with the load.
The Jaguar’s satellite navigation system is really coming into play now; you can “pinch to zoom” on the colour screen as you might with an iPad.
Our cellphones vibrate and squawk with a text message from the National Weather Service. It says, “Emergency Alert. Tornado warning in this area. Take shelter now.” No kidding.
Baker puts his foot down and when the road turns to rain-soaked gravel, we’re grateful for the allwheel drive, as the Jag struggles momentarily for traction in the sluicing muck.
We head for the safety of Princeton, Iowa. We make it there safely, relieved.
The following morning we realize that the storm centre that we skittered under was just getting warmed up. It hit Pontiac, Ill., later that night, and it hit hard. A building had been flattened by the tornado, steel-beamed gas station awnings had been bent flat as though made of rubber, wooden boards had pierced car windshields and a tanker truck had been tossed into the air like a child’s toy.
Anyone on the ground here would have been in big trouble, so a large part of me was grateful for Baker’s No. 1 rule: Don’t chase tornadoes after dark because it’s too hard to tell what they’re going to do next.