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The
art of the estate by Peter Tomalin Who
says estate cars are boring? The
latest Lynx Eventer is anything but, as Peter Tomalin discovered
You
see, he thought it was a factory Jaguar: the new XJS estate car, following on
from the coupe and the convertible. And is that really so surprising? The
Eventer, built at the Sussex seaside by Lynx Motors International, looked good
enough to have rolled out of Browns Lane that morning, just as Lynx's XJS
convertible was good enough to stand comparison with Jaguar's own (which,
incidentally, it preceded by a good six years.) And
this is no mean achievement, for there's a real art to turning a saloon — or
coupe, for that matter — into a genuine estate car without screwing up the
looks of the things in a pretty major way. The best of them, like the Sierra
Estate and the BMW 5- series Touring, are great looking cars in their own right;
the worst, and l'm sorry but Aston's recent effort with the Virage comes to
mind, look clumsily contrived (I can also recall a Mk II Jag estate, the work of
a coachbuilder back in the Sixties and almost - too horrid for words).
But
it works above all because Lynx does more than simply tack on an estate back.
When an XJS arrives at the workshop it's stripped of all trim, inside and out.
Seats, carpets, headlining, fuel tank, rear screen, side screens, and lots of
veneery, chromy bits all go into store. Then, and this is important, the roof is
cut away from just behind the windscreen right back past the infamous flying
buttresses. The bulkhead in front of the rear axle is moved back, and the new
rear floor with all its supporting metalwork is set in position. The
top sections of the rear wings are reshaped, the inner wings reinforced, then a
body jig is set into the car around which is built the new upper-body structure
- cant rails, cross braces, roof pressings and what-have-you, all aligned and
welded into place. Once this has been done the tailgate can be positioned, et
voila!-the XJS becomes the Eventer. "The
completed structure is lead-loaded where necessary to achieve the desired
smoothness of line, then the new rear seats - folding backs, of course are
fitted. Finally the trim goes in, all the new materials carefully matched to the
old, along with the new side-glass. All
of which would be a great waste of everybody's time and money (the conversion
takes around 10 weeks and costs £18,800 all inclusive) if the Eventer couldn't
hack it as a genuine estate. To that end Lynx has been careful to provide a load
platform that's both accessible, courtesy of the large tailgate that opens to
bumper level, and flat - the spare tyre lies under the floor. Lynx's
specially-made fuel tank wrapping snugly around it to make best use of the
available room. Spacing blocks are added to the rear springs to increase the
ride height, and if the owner is planning to use the car for towing, uprated
spings and dampers are fitted. The
Eventer won't separate many antique dealers from their Volvos (you'll not
squeeze too many tallboys in there, and your labradors would get ever so growly
if you used XJS performance to the full) but if you've a mountain of luggage to
move, not forgetting the golf clubs, and you want to arrive in good time and
high style, there's little else to touch it. Certainly that was the conclusion
of Brussels-based businessman Peter Johns, whose left-hand-drive, V12-powered
car we tried.
You'd
expect it to drive pretty much like a standard XJS V12, and up to a point it
does. The 5.3-litre V12 wafts you around in near silence, the suspension soaks
up minor surface imperfections like they didn't exist, and when you floor the
throttle the old three-speed auto flicks down a ratio and you're off on an
eerily refined charge towards the horizon. Ah,
but. Turn in to the first proper corner at a decent lick, and there are two
surprises waiting. First, this car reacts to steering inputs with a keenness and
incisiveness that's almost shocking in a V12 XJS. The reason: Lynx has replaced
the rubber bushes in the steering assembly with nylon ones (they can do this to
any XJS at a cost of £235).You have to adopt a much more subtle, measured
approach than is usual with these cars if you're to steer accurately and
smoothly. Second, and perhaps partly
as a consequence of this new-found front- end sharpness, the car suddenly feels
a little tail-happy. 'A bit skittish' was how Peter Johns had described it
before we took the car away, adding that the springs needed time to bed down.
Certainly it felt as though it would benefit from some extra weight over the
rear wheels - with a near-empty load bay and just photographer Bailie and myself
inside, it skipped over bumpy surfaces and began to slide its tail at only
moderately fast cornering speed. Lynx says that when the ride height settles,
this Eventer will return to its usual, benign XJS ways. In
other respects it's difficult to fault. The lasting impression is of an
extremely well-made car, with absolutely none of the creaks and rattles one
might have thought would result from chopping and changing the coupe bodyshell.
Estates rarely feel all-of-a-piece quite like this one does. So,
Jocasta's gymkhana or a high-powered business seminar — the Eventer wouldn't
look out of place at either. A fortnight's shopping at Sainsbury's, or a
weekend's fishing in the Highlands — no problem. A night at the opera, or a
day at the races — don't you just love those old Marx Brothers films? The
British have always liked estate cars. Heavens, in the Thirties there were even
Rolls-Royce estates (they were known as Woodys; the royals adored them). Except
that back then an estate was called a shooting brake, which seems far more
appropriate for a car like the Eventer. So why is the term no longer used?
Because journalists wouldn't be able to write a headline that said 'Estate of
the Art' every time they got a story like this, that's why. |
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