F-TYPE For as long as

F-TYPE For as long as Texas has been part of the United States, the unfamiliar have endeavored to cross it quickly. 660 miles wide from east to west, a landmass roughly the same size as France, and a population that has endured annexation, secession, rejection and caricaturization the state has an unofficial motto; ‘Don’t Mess with Texas.’ Then again many Americans would choose to cross almost all of the ‘flyover states’ between New York and Los Angeles as quickly as possible. Meandering is not the norm. In the 1970s, it became competitive to the point of brinksmanship to crisscross the U.S. as fast as possible, in protest of a national speed limit set at 55 mph. The Cannonball Baker Sea-To-Shining Sea Memorial Trophy Dash encouraged a whatever-it-takes mentality to cross the country as quickly as possible on four wheels. Today, the Cannonball Run has earned its place as the record to beat. Early attempts to cross 2800-odd miles of American tarmac touched the 40-hour threshold, in a panel van, no less. Scant time was spared for bathroom breaks or eating and much less so for getting a sense of what makes America so beautiful. The overall, virtually unbroken record belongs to two guys who made the journey in 32 hours and 51 minutes in a Jaguar XJS in 1979. That was the last year of the Cannonball, and the record stands. Food for thought, that was. Instead of pursuing a mad, transcontinental dash, what would happen if you slowed down to explore what’s sandwiched in between the allimportant coasts? Once you begin to take it easy, would the real culture and color of Texas, without which the two coasts would be at a deficit, come in to focus? And time to explore the cities; is Austin really as cosmopolitan as Los Angeles and Instead of a mad, transcontinental dash what would happen if you slowed down? San Antonio still urban to a ranch hand? I’ve also heard it said the rocky countryside and vast swaths of basically unoccupied towns between the State’s four great cities make you wonder if you’re still on the same continent, let alone the same state. The proposition was to connect four of Texas’ largest cities, beginning in Dallas, where an F-TYPE SVR was waiting (we needed a Jaguar to honor that record properly; a 575HP F-TYPE SVR, seemed an appropriate heir to the expeditious, time-setting Jaguar). It’s no joke about everything being bigger in Texas: the parking lot just outside Dallas-Fort Worth airport comprised acres of asphalt, protective canopies (from errant hailstorms) and showrooms’ worth of pickup trucks. You could get lost here. The shuttle driver hardly believed me when I said I was there to collect a Jaguar, let alone the quickest model the company has ever produced. He laughed a little when he saw the silver coupe among all of the half-tons and SUVs. You quickly get a sense that Texas likes its history, but you wouldn’t learn that from spending time in Dallas, a city in constant regeneration. In its suburbs, Fortune 500 companies are laying claim to campuses and pushing the city’s limits, a la Los Angeles. Downtown is a collection of high-rises and few residents. It’s a backdrop for AnyTown, USA. The roads are flat and straight, and don’t really lead anywhere. Sure, there are luxurious department stores and plenty of venues to find Tex-Mex food and Country and Western music, but a better way to get a sense of Texas is to get out of Dallas. Luckily, all it takes is a quick trip down one of the state’s unique ‘farm-to-market’ (FM) roads and a wide-open map. The FM roads are a living reminder of Texas’ economic history of moving products from the farm or ranch to a market. They’re usually the ones worth driving. 68 THE JAGUAR

Heading south out of Dallas on the Margaret Hunt Hill Bridge (above ) Inside the Easy Tiger restaurant, Austin (right). Main St, Clifton, (below) THE JAGUAR 69