Our British GT Man Gets A Ride In The CBT Jaguar

A Nice Sunday Drive © Mark Howson

“Hi Mark, it’s Graham. I’ve got a nice surprise for you at Brands this weekend – how do you fancy a few laps in the Apex Jaguar?”

Truth be told, I’d had a long day at work – I was just leaving for home when the Deputy Ed phoned - and my enthusiasm at this invitation was probably a bit muted. I remember telling the wife a couple of hours later, but the day job was dominating things at the time and it pretty much slipped my mind.

Fast forward to Sunday and GG and I were winding our way through the BGT paddock when we noticed a hubbub outside the SRO marquee; something XKR-shaped, and I suddenly remembered the conversation from a few days earlier.

Stuart Scott was on hand to show interested parties around the car and we said hello.Graham joked to Stuart; “Just remember your passenger is very, very nervous about this afternoon’s run,” but his response of “So am I,” wasn’t really what I wanted to hear.

Rendezvous was set for 1pm, just after the Formula Ford race, and instructions were to be at the end garage for that time. After several fruitless minutes looking for the Jag up and down the pitlane, we finally stumbled across the car at the pit exit. As we waited for things to begin, Graham introduced me to Stuart Scott’s co-driver Chris Ryan, and pointed out the beautifully sculptured rear wing – far from being a bolted on afterthought, this was almost organic in the way it melded with the car.

Having missed the initial brief, it was a case of signing the bit of paper that absolved everybody of blame should I end up being impaled on a piece of Armco; being sent off to get a ‘snug-fitting’ helmet; and then finally being sent back to get a not-very-fetching paper helmet-liner. By the time I’d sorted this out, the car was already circulating.

I knew that I was third in line for the experience, but it soon became apparent that time was already running out and three laps would become two. Guest one hopped out and guest two jumped in; time to get ready.

A very nice chap called Graham gave me my instructions; “You need to be in quickly and you need to have your legs over to the right hand side – there’s electrics on the left. We’ll then strap you in, and you then put your right hand on your left side and grab hold of the rollcage with your left. If you need Stuart to slow down, just tap him on his chest.”

I was also receiving instructions from DSC; “Lordy will be on the left hand side going into Druids,” said the Deputy Ed. “See if you can spot him on the first lap, and then a big thumbs-up for the camera on the next.”

A burbling rumble heralded the arrival of the Jaguar and it was time for me to do what Graham had instructed. I fell backwards into the bucket seat and awkwardly hoisted my legs into the car. Hands appeared from everywhere to do up the belts, “Have you had all the children you want?” enquired the driver just prior to the crotch belt being tightened, and then the door was slammed shut.

I had just enough time to glance across at the dash – LED screen with some sort of gauge displayed, dozens of switches, lots of aluminium – before my attention was fully back on the road ahead. The pit exit had disappeared and Paddock Hill bend was looming into view; we were off.

Even though this was an out lap on a demonstration run, the drop down Paddock Hill was pretty intense for a wuss like me, and before I could gather my thoughts the car was on the ascent to Druids.

By the time the order “spot the photographer” was fed to my consciousness from my memory, we were past him and dropping down towards Graham Hill Bend.

I was now aware of the noise and heat in the car, and of the lateral forces exerted. My grip tightened on the rollcage and I could feel my legs wishing to go off in another direction entirely as we rounded Druids.

Stuart was now guiding the car round Surtees and onto Pilgrims; I was struck by the incredible grip generated by the Avon rubber – I’m no expert, but it seemed to be working to me.

Down Hawthorn Hill and into Hawthorn Bend; now we were onto a part of the circuit that I’d never seen before in person. Westfields; then Dingle Dell; and at this point I became aware of the brakes and gear changes.

The merest dab on the pedal instantly threw me forwards - at the same time illustrating to me the necessity of having tight belts - while every gear change would throw my head back or forth; there was absolutely no lag between action and reaction.

Clearways; and the speed increased along Brabham Straight. I was enjoying every second of this, even when the Jaguar dropped once more into Paddock Hill bend and ran across the kerbs at the bottom. Okay, time for the thumbs up.

Not wishing to end up in the driver’s lap at the top of the hill, I decided to continue holding on to the rollcage and raised my right thumb while trying to spot Lordy in the blur of people going past the window. Having absolutely no idea where he was, I suddenly felt very self-conscious about this half-hearted gesture; the more so when I heard “Are you okay?” come from my left.

Our intrepid photographer had assumed that the Jaguar was a right hand drive car, so he was on the outside of the track going up the hill into Druids. Mark was in the right hand seat though - and vainly giving a thumbs up in the direction of... any photographer who happened to be out there. Ed.

 

Heading down hill towards Graham Hill Bend once more, I was alarmed to note that the car was accelerating – that can’t be right. A quick dab on the brakes and normality was forcefully restored.

I decided to just enjoy the rest of the lap and looked across at the driver for the first time. Despite my head and body jerking forwards and backwards continually, I saw that he was seemingly unaffected by the same forces. The bends and swoops of this incredible circuit swept by and suddenly we were pitting; the two laps were over already.

I had been asked to exit the car quickly due to the time pressures, so I shook Stuart’s hand and thanked him from behind a huge smile; posed for a couple of photos and then began to scramble out.

“Oh, very graceful Mark,” were the encouraging words from the Deputy Ed as I emerged backwards – well, it seemed like a good idea at the time! I suddenly realised that I had absolutely no idea of how to get out and felt my balance going. I reached back and half a dozen people surged forward; not to break my fall, but to make sure that this fat fool didn’t break the door window that he was suddenly applying all of his weight to.

Having finally returned to dry land, it was thanks all round and time to get back to normality. I was sweating from head to foot (my, it’s warm in there), and I was grinning like a loon.

I apologise if you were expecting an expert analysis of the Jaguar XKR – all I can offer is the following; it’s solid; it’s beautiful and it’s very, very impressive.

My thanks go once more to Apex and Stuart Scott, along with my best wishes for a successful racing programme.

I’ve often wondered what makes people spend tens of thousands of pounds to go GT racing. Now I know; and I envy them.

21 Jul 07