Better than the real thing?

Lee Marshall’s Jaguar C-type replica isn’t too valuable to use

OF MORE THAN 30 older cars I’ve owned, three have been replicas, starting with a brace of Cobras – including a toolroom 427 sideoiler – before I bought this XK120 C.

If I had to pinpoint my golden period of motoring, it would be the early ’50s. For a brief time the competition scene was deliciously uncommercial, and for me the C-type encapsulates that era perfectly.

My car started life in summer 1955 as a home-market XK140 and was rebuilt to Competition specification by Proteus in 1983. It’s now been a C-type longer than it was a 140, so perhaps the best way to describe it is as a Jaguar ‘Special’. That said, the DNA is period-intact and any patina you see is entirely genuine, which is important to me.

Coventry’s finest have been a constant feature in my life; I’ve previously owned Mks 1, 2 and VII, an XK120 OTS and no fewer than three E-types. I daydreamed about Jaguars as a child, from S-types demolished weekly in The

Sweeney to the Milk Tray man jumping a collapsed bridge in his white E-type. They all left an indelible impression.

The XK ‘C’ is a friendlier car than the Cobra that preceded it, although the driving experience remains visceral; those aeroscreens offer scant protection and the unsilenced exhausts blare out a raucous soundtrack.

Its 3.4-litre twin-cam breathes through a trio of fat Webers and pumps out around 260bhp. With that spaceframe chassis and lightweight aluminium body, it easily hits 60mph in less than six seconds and feels faster still.

You sit low in the cockpit and the pareddown interior is entirely functional, channelling the austerity of an early Land Rover that’s been intimate with a Supermarine Spitfire – the exposed tubework and yellowed markings on the instruments only heighten that impression. On an early-morning B-road blast, it’s not difficult to imagine you’ve stepped into the shoes of Jaguar test pilot Norman Dewis, whose signature sits proudly on the A-pillar.

I’m an obsessive for period detail, so a big part of the fun is spending time researching and locating those hen’s teeth parts that add to the spirit of a car – there’s nothing more rewarding than watching people quietly taking in all the details. This car wears a mid-1953 Coventry registration number, which always makes people in the know give it a second glance.

I’m fortunate to have the car maintained by Richard Hodson of RH Classics, for which I’m a sales consultant. He’s a guru when it comes to classic Jaguars, so it’s in safe hands. I’ve owned near-concours cars in the past and been afraid to use them but, as Richard rightly says, ‘Use it, don’t be too precious about it, and get to know it by getting your hands dirty!’ It’s been wellused and well-loved over the years, which is liberating: I’m not afraid to drive it year-round.

The car spent much of its life in West Sussex and can find its own way to Goodwood; I’ve booked some track time there so I can experience it in its natural environment. I’m also a proud Midland Automobile Club member, so Shelsley will feature this year.

My ultimate goal is to drive the route of the original Mille Miglia; if 2020 taught us anything, it’s to follow your dreams and take nothing for granted – this war-horse Jaguar really helps me do that. I want to build some long-term memories with it.