Feature: E-Ticket Ride
10/01/2006
We rolled out from under the race transporter awning in perfect formation—#61, #62, and #63—a trio of silver and dark green Jaguar E-Type racers with long, streamlined snouts glistening in the sun. The large-bore side exhausts spit out raspy snarls as we taxied through the Road Atlanta paddock. An intoxicating mixture of race gas fumes and adrenaline conjured up childhood flying-ace fantasies, and from my vantage point at the tail end of this raucous procession, I envisioned a squadron of RAF Spitfires readying for the Battle of Britain. But instead of fending off Messerschmitts and Focke-Wulfes, we were heading into battle outgunned (about 380 hp for my car versus 600 hp for some) and outnumbered by a pack of low-flying Corvettes, Camaros, and Shelbys.My mission was to bring the 1963 Select Edition Jaguar E-Type roadster (prepared by Donovan Motorsports) back in one piece, with the help of a couple of veteran wing mates and an experienced and devoted ground crew. Beyond the sheer thrill of racing around one of America’s legendary road courses in one of the world’s legendary sports cars, my real mission was to view one of America’s best vintage automobile races from the best seat in the house. Thanks to Jaguar and its sponsorship of the Select Edition E-Type racing team, I was able to gain a through-the-windscreen perspective during the Sports Car Vintage Racing Association’s 25th-anniversary event at Road Atlanta last fall.
Just slipping into the deep, narrow cockpit of the torpedo-shaped car gets your heart racing. Shut the featherlight door and before you lies an array of traditional design instruments and a lineup of toggle switches that stretches nearly across the width of the dash. Buckle up your five-belt safety harness, tug on your helmet, flip the ignition, push the starter, and wriggle back into the narrow bucket seat to soak up the vibration and thunder as 380 horses rear up, reined in only by your left foot on the clutch. Shove the stubby aluminum shifter into first, reply with an upraised thumb to your mechanic’s wave to pull forward, ease back on the clutch and ease on the throttle to get things rolling, and with a firm tug on the tiny leather steering wheel, you will understand why vintage sports cars are best appreciated on the racetrack rather than tucked away in museums.
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Vintage racer Bob Hebert wrestles the 440 hp
Jaguar uphill through the esses of Road Atlanta ahead of a Camaro and a
Porsche. (Click image to enlarge)The main distinction between vintage racing and other forms of both amateur and professional racing is that, out of respect for the historic and monetary value of the machines involved, vintage racing is conducted in a more gentlemanly manner. There is still some very competitive jousting, and accidents can and do happen. A bungled start at Road America last summer wiped out about two dozen cars in the high-powered production sports car class, the class in which these Jaguars compete.
Fortunately, that was an extremely rare occurrence. Unfortunately, it severely depleted the field at my Road Atlanta event. Normally, 35 to 40 cars would have been on the grid, but here the entry list was fewer than 20 cars. The accident also revived the arguments of the purists who believe the clock should be stopped in terms of the technology (read: horsepower) that can be applied to old racers. Proponents counter that such advancements make the cars better maintained and safer than when they were originally raced. Sitting on the grid surrounded by venerable Ford and Chevy racers with 600 hp V-8s thumping away can be both exhilarating and intimidating, but holding your foot flat to the floor in a 380 hp Jaguar as Fords and Chevys disappear down Road Atlanta’s mile-plus long back straight is where appreciation becomes awe.
My teammates for Donovan Motorcars and their cars were no slouches. Bob Hebert began his professional racing career 35 years ago, driving formula cars here and abroad for the factory-backed U.S. Lotus team. He has raced the #61 Jaguar roadster for Brian Donovan since 1990. At 70, he appears as fit and ready to race as his car.
Jack Busch is younger but began racing automobiles much later. In 1991, he decided he was too old for motocross competition and started racing in Sports Car Club of America events. He has raced with Donovan for four years.
Brian Donovan was an engineer for GE when he discovered a 1962 E-Type roadster (now the #62 driven by Busch) sitting in a barn. After spending two years restoring it, he began racing it in 1984. In 1989, Donovan Motorcar Service became his full-time occupation. He met Bob Hebert in 1990 and acquired the #61 car, a 1961 roadster, for Hebert to drive. This car has been a racecar its entire life. It is one of only two E-Types with a special nose without headlights. The #63 car is a 1963 model that was converted to a vintage racer in 1984 and was purchased by Donovan in 2003, when he joined forces with Jaguar.All three cars have 4.2-liter engines in various stages of tune—#61 has 440 hp, #62 395 hp, and #63 380 hp. Because they have aluminum and steel construction, #61 and #62 weigh 2,415 and 2,475 pounds, respectively. The all-steel #63 is heaviest, at 2,550 pounds.
Besides having fewer horsepower and more weight than my teammates, I also had less racing experience—mainly at the wheel of a rear-engine, 130 hp 4-cylinder Porsche. The Jaguar was definitely a different breed of cat.
The car is set up for a benign manner of handling, and oversteer is not a concern unless the driver mashes the throttle too soon coming out of a tight corner in second gear. The manual steering requires muscle but has good response. The biggest tussle was with the production 4-speed gearbox, especially downshifting smoothly into second gear. It is a fairly physical car to drive, and I went to bed after the first day’s practice feeling more like I had been in the boxing ring than on the track. Of course, jumping into the car after a red-eye flight from L.A. and fueling up on coffee and the lumberjack special at one of Georgia’s ubiquitous Waffle House restaurants did not help matters.
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When not at the wheel of the 1962 Jaguar coupe,
Jack Busch pilots a late model SCCA Trans Am in which he has set lap records at various New England tracks. (Click image to enlarge)My comfort and my lap times improved after that, but gearbox woes continued to slow me down at the chicane just before going uphill and under the bridge that leads to Road Atlanta’s final turn. Looking beyond the Jag’s long nose for the plunge downhill after the bridge also took some getting used to, but eventually I just let the car correctly fall off toward the left edge of the track before turning right at the apex of turn 12.
The exhilarating part was how the big Jag galloped up the hill through the esses and pounded down the back straight, where it would reach its maximum velocity of about 150 mph. I was running near the back of the pack but enjoying mixing it up with a couple of the slower Corvettes during Saturday’s qualifying race.
Sunday’s race had a ragged start among us back markers. I decided that I did not want to be forever known as the West Coast writer who caused the wreck in turn one on the first lap. I did worry a Shelby for a few laps before bungling a downshift in the usual place. I also chopped another two seconds off my best lap time as I became comfortable enough to discover that the Jag liked to be tossed into the corners. Maybe I had been too conscientious about preserving the equipment, but it was still fun.
The people were wonderful to be around, and Donovan gave me a great car. If someone asks me if racing was better in the good old days, I can answer in the affirmative. Thanks to vintage racing, these are the good old days.