During the ’50s, I raced XK120s. The first one was a ’52, the second a ’54. Albeit, I’m not mechanically inclined. I don’t know the difference between a Whitworth Wench and a Lucas Hug. In those days, Jaguars were so good, you could race them with virtually no preparation other than checking tire pressures and taping over the headlights.
My problem was our standing starts. We used to line up on the grid, two-by-two (or three-by-three) with our engines running. The starter would walk or run from the end of the field to the front. At the side of the road, he would jump in the air while waving the green flag and off we would go. Jaguars had a low first gear without synchromesh we called a “stump-puller.” To get the thing going, I would hold the revs at 6,000, waiting for the flag to start to drop. When it did, I floored the loud pedal and—after a few seconds—slamed the gear into second, while at the same time, momentarily stabbing the clutch pedal. The eventual result was that the clutch didn’t last as long as other components.
