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Atop
the mechanical magnificence of the rolling chassis goes the equally
praiseworthy body. Unusually for this style of car, it's moulded
as a one-piece section with integral wings, boot and running boards.
It also has a bonded-in steel tube frame that provides the mounting
points for seat-belts, door hinges and strikers and the column support.
The separate, rear hinged doors are double skinned around a steel
frame and the bonnet is a four-piece affair in 18 gauge aluminium.
Having said there was nothing ground-breaking in the mechanical
specification, there was nothing trend-setting in the styling: a
long, low bonnet, cutaway doors, Le Mans slab tank and rear mounted
spare. That said, the proportions and execution were just brilliant.
The lavish curvature of the wings which rose almost as high as the
radiator shell on either side and then those wide eyed headlights
snuggling between them. Indeed, approaching an SS100, replica or
original, is probably a great deal more exciting in 1998 than it
was in 1935 when the car was very much a case of the same but differential.
In faithful replica style, the cockpit is pretty cramped but the
rear-hinged doors make entry as easy as it's ever going to be. There's
a practised art to threading yourself through the door and under
the large diameter wheel but once there it proves to have been well
worth the trip. The view over the dash and down that long, elegantly
tapered bonnet is both evocative and exciting. It almost takes you
back in time; much like arriving at Suffolk Sportscars' rural HQ.
You just couldn't make a car like this in a modern industrial unit.
It needs the dose of old world charm that comes with its homely,
converted farm building base.
Twisting the key and pressing the starter had the silken six bouncing
its refined echo off the courtyard walls as it warmed in the early
autumn drizzle. Adverse elements notwithstanding, there's only one
way to drive this car; helmet and goggles on and screen down.
It
may seem daft but you get far less of a battering with the screen
down than with it up. Even the seats are perfect copies of the pukka
jobs and have bent plywood back instead of modern GRP mouldings.
They are comfortable and provide a fine, upright driving position
behind the voluptuously undulating dashboard. The large diameter,
four-spoke wheel sits close to your chest but it's far from awkward.
Dead ahead are the Smiths 6" main instruments with replica
faces. The smaller clocks are spread out; one between the speedo
and the rev counter and three on the passenger side. The dash layout
and every single fitting down to the dummy fuel cock and passenger
grab handle are spot on.
Engine warm, all needles in the correct sectors of their respective
dials, Suffolk's hugely enthusiastic Roger Williams issued the directions
that would take us on a drizzle drenched tour of a fine country
drive.
As soon as you let in the clutch you can feel the Jaguar pedigree
in the XJ6 underpinnings. Even on a single track, rough surfaced,
rural lane the SS100 wafts along in regal style. The steering feels
a little strange at first, the wheel seeming to dance about in your
hands, but it all firms up with a little speed. And speed the car
has aplenty. Running sedately through Bury St Edmunds, Roger directs
me onto the main A14 dual carriageway where I put my foot down.
With 4.2 litres under the bonnet, the SS100 will never feel strained
and as it loped along I thought one or other of the main instruments
was woefully inaccurate in showing a steady 80 mph at under 2000
rpm. Then I remembered 18" wheels which give the car its long-legged
gait that gobbles the miles in impressive style.
With just a few revs in evidence there was always more to come
in terms of pure speed but, as with most replicas, speed is only
half the experience. It's the reaction of other road users who skitter
out of your way in a fashion they would never employ for any old
Ferrari or 911. And even above that is the entertainment in actually
driving the thing. The ride is the right side of firm. It's far
from uncomfortable but has strayed just the right distance from
the sort of limousine luxury that insulates the driver from events
underfoot. You can feel exactly what the car is doing and it does
plenty.
You can barrel up to the turns, reach under the dash for the gear
lever and drop down the box as the discs bite. A far cry from Girling
rod brakes. These ones really work. As you feed the wheel round,
initial expectations are for the front end to run wide but not a
bit of it. The crossplies exert excellent grip even on the very
damp roads that welcomed me to Suffolk and, as Roger pointed out,
they break away at the back so progressively that they almost send
you a telegram. I didn't try it.
In truth, so novel was the driving experience after the rash of
more modern machines that I could have done with a full day and
a closed airfield to really get to grips with this fine machine.
That said, even the briefest of encounters can only impress upon
the tester the sheer excellence of every rivet of the Suffolk SS100.
The
company does have a price list but Roger says it's all pretty irrelevant.
If you want to build your own car it'll cost you £30,000.
If you want Suffolk Sportscars to build it for you, as many do,
it'll cost you over £40,000. It's all a little richer than
the average car but it's far from the average car. In fact, it's
so good, I bet even Sir William Lyons wouldn't object. No wonder
Jaguar doesn't seem to!
Back issues of the December 1998 magazine which include 7 colour
pictures and background of the production of the original Jaguar
SS100 are obtainable from Cars International, 1 Howard Road, Reigate,
Surrey, RH2 7JE. Tel. 01737 225565 Fax. 01737 240185.
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