Some light reading:
https://www.motor1.com/news/226244/1956-jaguar-d-type-auction/
https://uk.motor1.com/features/178786/everything-jaguar-dtype/
I think it was in Car and Driver I read a short story about a D-Type, very-funny, maybe by one of the editors there, who also wrote a column, Warren Weith. It goes something like this:
In the 1950's the factory sold a D-Type Jaguar to a USA racer, who immediately planned to campaign it on the road courses for-which it was so well-suited. He loaded it onto an open trailer, hooked it to his tow vehicle, and set-out for Road America. The driver he was going to use was accompanying him in the tow vehicle, a British racer who shall remain nameless.
Somewhere in the rural countryside, short of their goal, Elkhart Lake WI, the tow vehicle experienced a break-down. Sitting on the side of the road, the D-Type owner realized that they would miss the race registration, if they did not depart immediately to arrive at the track. There was no-way that the tow-rig and its load would be able to make it.
The D-Type owner said to his driver, "The D-Type has a full tank of gas, just drive it to the track and put-in the registration papers for the race!" The remaining distance to the track was well-within the range available from the gas tank capacity. The fact that a British race car without any-sort of licensing for use on the roadways of the USA was highly-illegal, didn't faze the British driver at-all. The car was unloaded from the open trailer, and off he went, a thundering cacophany of precision engineering clothed-in British Racing Green and a wrap-around windshield the likes of which had never been seen on the public thoroughfares of rural Wisconsin.
The British driver was making good time, he was loafing along at about 80 mph, almost halfway on the tachometer, when he became-aware of a warbling siren approaching from behind. A glance in the rear-view mirror showed a local sheriff's patrol car, properly-equipped with a 'gumball' emergency light on the center-front of the roof, lit and its message clearly-understood by the D-Type driver. He pulled to the side of the road, and he presented a dashing figure in his safety helmet, split-lens safety glasses, and driving gloves, the one-piece driving suit in white a stark-contrast to the car's British Racing Green.
The sheriff's deputy pulled his Ford Fairlane patrol car behind the Jaguar, and walked-up to the driver's side (this was built as a left-hand drive). "Do you have any-idea how-fast you were traveling? What kind of car is this, where's your license plate?"
The British racecar driver answered, "I'm sorry constable, this automobile is a purpose-built racing vehicle, a Jaguar. As a racing vehicle, it has no-use for a speedometer, I have a tachometer, oil and water gauges, and a petrol gauge. Therefore, I cannot report to you the speed which I was traveling-at, which is dependent upon the gearing in my differential."
"Just where were you headed in this anyway?" asked the sheriff's deputy.
The D-Type driver replied, "we were within driving distance of Elkhart Lake when the lorry transporting this vehicle came a-cropper, and I decided to complete my journey to Elkhart Lake upon my own, whilst the lorry operator waited upon assistance."
The sheriff's deputy looked the car up and down. He walked to the front and saw the sleek compound curves of the fenders, no bumpers, and the oval air intake, as the cooling sidepipes ticked-away.
"Well," the deputy said, "you're almost to Elkhart Lake, I suppose if you stay on the backroads, you can make it to the racetrack. If you come to a community, you have to slow-down. How are you going to know how-fast you're going?"
The British racecar driver thought for a moment, and said, "constable, could you assist me in determining the speeds at-which I'm traveling? I would be beholden to you if you would accelerate to 60 MPH, and then honk your horn. I shall make-note of my tachometer's reading. Then accelerate to 80 MPH, and honk your horn again, and I'll read the tachometer. What do you believe is the terminal speed of your pursuit vehicle?"
"Why, this here is a Ford Interceptor Police Package, it can do 120 MPH, you're never going to be able to match that-in this funny little car!" said the deputy.
"Could you please do-me one last favor? Once we do the 80 MPH tachometer speed-check, would you please accelerate to your top-speed, so I can determine how-much faster you are?" asked the D-Type driver. The deputy agreed. They were on empty rural roads, crossing land with farms full with summer's crops.
The deputy returned to his Ford, and got underway, he smartly accelerated to 60 MPH, and beeped his horn. He saw a wave of a gloved hand, from the D-Type driver, in his rear-view mirror. The deputy accelerated to 80 MPH. Another horn beep, another wave of the gloved hand from the D-Type.
The deputy floored the automobile, and after a bit, he looked-down at his speedometer, saw that he was approaching 120 MPH, and was quite-busy, struggling to keep the car centered on the rural road. He looked-in his rear-view mirror, and as he suspected, the dark-green car was nowhere in-sight.
Suddenly, he realized why the green car wasn't in his rear-view mirror, because the car was
beside him! The deputy saw the other driver mouth the words "
thank-you!" to him, he then touched two fingers of his left hand to the helmet he was wearing, and accelerated-away, leaving the Ford far-behind, the deputy slowed to about 60 MPH, and didn't-bother to attempt pursuit.