The 4.2 liters fired to life, her cylinders heating up for a trip that was much longer than she had ever gone before. In her 34 years…28 with me, she had seen daily trips to the store, fun little jaunts in the country to stretch her legs, and lately an end to an interminable 10-year hibernation in a garage. It had been 2 years in the making including a recent makeover to her original livery of Golden Sand/Red, but she was going to Tennessee for the National Show (her first) not knowing that a week later she would be broken and silent.

I could smell the distinctive exhaust of my E as she was idling in the driveway, just a hint of the Castrol oil that burns with gasoline. I see from the sky that it is going to be a perfect South Florida day, so I put the top down. Richard Irving my co-pilot in this adventure has just arrived and is ready to go. I am happy to see he has all his gear in one small bag. Then I remember he owns an E-type too. We have a 7:30 rendezvous with Bill Smail and his 1992 XJ6. He is coming up from Miami.

Bill arrives right on time and he has one passenger Elaine. We depart to pickup Russell Glace at his house in Lake Worth. After picking up Russell we get on the Turnpike and the weather is absolutely purrfect (pun intended). The E-type is running strong and staying cool, a direct result of replacing the original single blade fan (can you say useless) with the more effective Series II dual fan setup. Richard and I look at each other and grin silently thinking this is why we love XKEs. We were zipping along at a comfortable pace somewhere north of the posted limit (you know, kinda going with the flow of traffic) and we drove till about Noon. During this time unbeknownst to us, our battery had been quietly discharged because the Lucas alternator remembered that it was in fact made by Lucas.

We did not become aware of the problem until we noticed an odd thing happening to the gauges. Our gas gauge and engine temperature kept drifting downward for no apparent reason. Finally when the temperature gauge had fallen from 90 degrees C to about 50 degrees, the car started to sputter and miss. It became clear that the alternator must have stopped charging and we were running on nothing but the battery. We were in the Orlando area, so we got off the first exit and stopped at Goodyear to have the charging system and battery checked.

Results were bad, the battery was nearly dead and the alternator was not putting out any voltage. Unfortunately, they could not fix or rebuild it. So I bought a battery and had the old one recharged, then we headed off again. Later when the new battery had exhausted itself we pulled over and switched back to the old battery. Each time we had to do this meant emptying out the boot (trunk) and then repacking it. The E-type OTS (a.k.a. convertible) trunk has never been called spacious.

Somewhere about 150 miles from the Florida/Georgia border, the second battery gave out abruptly. The car started to sputter just as we were about to pass an exit. We made what you might call an emergency maneuver going from the hi-speed lane onto the exit ramp in one smooth movement of flailing arms and elbows. Unfortunately the Chase car ( Bill’s XJ6) was caught unawares and could not make the exit with us, and had to go another several miles before turning around at the next exit and coming back. As we dove for the exit ramp the engine was starting to stall so I rocked it side-to-side briefly before realizing that only works when you are running out of gas, not a dead battery, oh well. The ramp went up hill of course and we were hoping to get to the crest and coast to a gas station. The gods of misfortune had placed a 18-wheeler at the intersection in front of us. So we came to a stop and a couple of seconds later it was dead! We had to ease it backward a little to get it off the road. Richard looked around but the XJ6 was nowhere in site, so we proceeded to get both batteries out. As I looked at how to get to the truck stop, I noticed I could either follow the road and walk a mile around the fencing or climb the 5 foot fence topped with 2 layers of barbed wire. So I climbed over the fence making sure to not catch anything vital, then Richard handed the batteries over and I walked them to the Truck stop (1/4 mile away). This is a little known fact, but car batteries when carried approximately 3 feet above the ground will increase in weight geometrically as the distance increases. By the time I had carried these 2 batteries to the truckstop my arms felt like I could reach down and pick up a nickel from the sidewalk without bending over.

Luckily, the truck stop service area was open 24 hours a day to service the big rigs, so they had no problem recharging both batteries at the same time. As I was walking back toward the car, I see a blue flashing light near my car and as I get closer I see that Bill’s XJ6 is parked in front of the trooper. As I get closer the trooper departs, so I starting waving my arms to get their attention, but to no avail they do not see me and drive off. So I turn and go back down to the truck stop area to wait.

Shortly they pull into the truckstop area and we meet up. I give them the lowdown on the situation and we decide to have dinner there while we wait. You know what the say about getting a good meal where the truckers stop…it’s not true. They stop there only because the gas is cheap. All it takes is one bowl of chili to give you more gas than you could possibly want. After we enjoyed our gourmet meal we loaded the batteries up and got back on the road, next stop Atlanta. Everything went smoothly including changing the batteries as they went dead. We crossed into Georgia and arrived into Atlanta without further problems.

Richard and I talked with Russell and Bill about them going on to Tennessee without us. We wanted to get the alternator problem fixed in Atlanta, then get to Franklin later in the day. We checked with a couple of places that worked on jags, but they were unable to help us. We went to a few auto parts stores and they were no help, either. Finally we tried a Napa auto parts store and they were very helpful. I pulled the alternator and they checked their books to find a GM alternator that would work. After about the fourth try he brought out a GM-Delco that matched up. The Napa clerk told us that he knew of an auto electric expert. Then he took us next door to a place called “Bomber Battery”. The gentleman was busy tearing down an alternator, when we met him. He looked like he had worked on alternators before they were called alternators. He took the Delco alternator, then glanced at our Lucas and said, “Needs a different pulley”. He reaches down into a large bin of several hundred miscellaneous pulleys lying on the floor and pulls one out. He does this so nonchalantly, just like someone taking a drinking glass out of a cupboard. He installs the pulley and says “I need to change the wiring from a 4-wire to a 2-wire setup, because this has an internal regulator”. So I go out and put the Delco on and then he took all of 10 minutes to wire it up. We thanked both of them for all their assistance, and then we were off toward Tennessee.

we roll into the Marriott parking lot in Cool Springs, Tennessee. We check in and get to the room and quickly discover that they incorrectly gave us a room with only a King bed, instead of 2 doubles. Our reservation called for 2 doubles and a rollaway, because we had reserved for 3 adults (Richard, Patrick from Picture Perfect Cars and me). Patrick had done a terrific job fixing the body and painting my car. Right before the trip he got too busy to go.

We did the Jack Daniel’s Distillery tour in Lynchburg. I volunteered to sit in the suicide seat in Pascal’s car. Pascal is definitely a driver that truly enjoys spirited driving on challenging roads. He had a blast charging up and down the twisty backcountry roads. Ginger from the Central Florida Jaguar Club was following us as well as another XKE. I refer to this excursion as the “Pascal Detour tour”, which is akin to experiencing “Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride” at Disney World. Actually, it was great fun, I just wish that I had been driving.

I had really looked forward to running the car in the slalom events, but I had found out yesterday that my suspension had a broken shock/spring assembly. I decided not to push the car, since it was our transportation home.  Several of us decided to go to the Corvette Factory Tour. Robert and Karen Abascal from the Central Florida club and Rick Hartwell, Mike Rosenberg, Richard and me from SFJC. That evening Richard and I changed over to the Hilton in Brentwood (good government rate).

Getting to the Marriott from Brentwood took so long; we were late for the start of the Concours caravan. The cars were supposed to be paraded there within the respective groups. We had seen tons of cars during the week in the parking lot, but Today it seems that dozens more jaguars are showing up. The cars are lined up right in the middle of the historic section of Franklin. It reminds me a little of the “Andy of Mayberry” TV show, and that’s a compliment. It was quaint, picturesque, and very nice. The whole town seemed to come out for the event and they were very cordial and helpful to all of us Jaguar enthusiasts (a.k.a. nuts). I had taken my new digital camera and proceeded to use up all 60 pictures in no time. All the cars looked in mint condition, except for Steve Ferring’s XK120 barn special. He drove it down from Jersey and left it’s interior and exterior (rust and Camouflage) as is. I think he referred to it as being in the Preservation class, but I think the Show placed it in the Unpreservation class.

Our plan was to leave for home on Saturday, right after the Show. This meant no chase car for the return trip. It also meant that we had too much stuff and not enough room in the car. Our choices were to either mail items back or fill the car with everything and mail Richard, I mean fly Richard back. It turned out cheaper to mail back 2 boxes of stuff. Heavy rain again driving through the Tennessee mountains, but this time we left out the carpeting and just let the rain go out the drain holes in the footwells.

Arrived in Atlanta and Richard wanted to stop on Cobb Road to eat. So we get off in Marietta and for the next 45 minutes we are driving around lost, needless to say we are both getting a little testy and losing our sense of humor. Okay…we finally stop at a gas station and get directions (Richard got the directions) we were way off course. We finally found Cobb Road and we stop at Checkers for an elegant sit-down meal. Richard and I get our meals and then to my astonishment Richard shouts an expletive and takes his meal back for a refund. I know this will be hard to believe, but Checkers messed up his order. We were informed that this was in fact the first mistake they had ever made on an order EVER!

It was very sunny and bright (very hot!!), so we left the top up all day. We cruised along with traffic just shy of the century mark and the E ran great. We stopped at the “75 Chrome Shop” where I picked up a gift for my daughter’s MR2. One by-product of driving with no A/C in the July heat is that one finds out the limits of one’s deodorant. I delicately mentioned to Richard that he might consider choosing a more effective deodorant in the future, and he responded that mine was not up to the task either. Upon further research that was confirmed. Anyway, got off the Turnpike at Ft. Pierce to get gas. I had to add 2 qts of oil. We switched over and continued our journey on I-95 (almost home).

We were zipping along on I-95 near Stuart when a BMW pulls up behind me, so I take it a bit above the century mark and he is still there crowding my bumper. I had previously told myself I would not push the engine above 4000 rpm, so I pull over and let the X5 zip past. I showed good self-control. Funny thing was when I moved over I slipped into the far right lane which was empty. The BMW now was stuck in the left lane with slow cars holding him up. I cruised by the pack with the BMW and then calmly drifted back into the left lane. Soon, the BMW came charging up on my back bumper again. Well this time I was not going to move over, so I accelerated away and took it up to 4700 rpm ( a little shy of 130). I did this for about a minute, when I came to my senses I pulled into the middle lane and started slowing down. Very shortly thereafter the BMW came flying by. As I slowed and the deafening wind noise died down to only a roar, I heard a tapping sound. This tapping sound is well known to mechanics everywhere as Money in the Bank. I had over-revved my tired old hemi . After all it was last rebuilt way back in 1978. I can’t believe I just did that. I had been driving very conservatively (okay, everything is relative!) the whole trip. Now the engine was clattering very badly and I was looking for a gas station. It was not going to make more that another mile, so I was lucky enough to pull into a rest area.

Lucky my roadside service had just renewed 2 days before so the tow was covered. The initial estimated 20-minute response time turned into a 90-minute response time, and now it was dark out. The jag was loaded and it became apparent that the truck cab only would hold 3 guys and there were 2 of them and 2 of us. Richard decided to ride in the E-type, I rode in the cab (thank god the A/C worked great in the truck). Shortly after we got under way the young driver fired up the CD player with his favorite tune.

I quickly was reminded of the movie “Planes, Trains, and Automobiles”, where John Candy and Steve Martin are riding in the back of this taxi from Hell. The music…and I use that term very loosely, sounded like continuous lightening strikes about 10 feet away combined with a trio of manic bagpipers on steroids. Thankfully, the tow finishes in Lake Worth with no more incidents.

In retrospect, I feel that the trip was well worth while. I met a lot of very friendly club members from all across the country, made some good friends, and got to see some fabulous racing jaguars that I had only seen in pictures. Would I do it again, if I knew that the car would break down? Absolutely!