Not many vehicles survived a protracted production run with as little outward change as Jaguar's 1975-1996 XJS. Granted, during those 21-model years, Jaguar made incremental changes, but wholesale, ostensibly, it's easier to tell a 1968 Corvette from a 1982 than it is to tell a 1975 Jaguar XJS from a 1996, a 1972 Mercedes-Benz SL from a 1989 as well. That all changed for model-year 1997 when Jaguar introduced the XK8 convertible and coupe. In one fell swoop, all the angst of waiting two-plus decades for a new Jag seemed like time well spent, the new XJS was an instant classic and satisfying in ways Chevrolet's long overdue replacement for the 1968 Corvette was disappointing, to some degree Mercedes-Benz 1990 SL as well. Jaguar followed it up in 1998 with a sporting "XKR" model. Our subject here is a "cheapie" XKR Facebook Marketplace find from 1998 and despite my knowing better, I want it. And I want it bad. Really bad.
The differences between a regular, run-of-the-mill XJS, as if there is such a thing, and an XKR are few, you'd never know one from the other unless you knew or what told what to look for. Using the best of their own along with what they borrowed from others, Jaguar tuned its Computer Active Technology Suspension (CATS) on XKR's to ride firmer, or more sporting, on top of one-inch larger rims and tires. Mercedes calibrated their ZF, five-speed automatic transmission with shorter, more aggressive ratios and last but not least, Ford, with whom they were under the control of, bolted the same twin, air-to-liquid intercooled superchargers they strapped to the engine in their SVT Ford F150 Lightning pickup truck to Jaguar's "AJ", 4.0-liter V-8. Who says the filthy rich can't enjoy a Sloppy Joe?
Ford's superchargers blew up horsepower on the AJ to 370 from 290 and torque swelled to 387 from 294 foot-pounds. Hardly numbers to brag about today, but back in the days of the second Clinton administration, an XKR's 5.1-second, 0-60 run was heady stuff. Incidentally, we tell an XJS is an XKR primarily by these luscious vents in the hood or what they refer to "over-there" as the bonnet. They are somewhat functional, cool air does flow through the vents, but there's no plumbing that helps ram the colder, denser stuff into the engine. So, they're more like seams on black stockings, they're alluring and by definition technically function, but they're there for appearances mostly. Meow.
Just 206,0000-kilometers on this one's digital ticker, that's 128,000-miles to us knuckle draggers, and has an asking price of just $7,995. Seems like a bargain until you get a hold of yourself and remember this isn't a 27-year-old Lexus but a 27-year-old Jaguar. That means a mixed bag of disparate baubles and bits of questionable reliability that's, again, old. Really old. Speaking of tech, don't look too closely otherwise you'll notice that this thing is squatting at the front - something tells me there's something askew with its funky CATS suspension set up. That looks expensive to fix. Maybe there's a kit to bypass the CATS, who knows. Don't count on finding parts at the Pull-A-Part.
Amazingly, factory navigation systems are still a thing even though it's pretty obvious they're on their way out. Or should be. Back when our XKR's wood trim was new and shinier, the thought of getting directions on our phones was inconceivable. It's just a matter of time, though, before the economics of manufacturers offering in dash systems stops making sense. And do they even make updates for these old DVD-based systems? Shame they dedicated so much real estate on the dash to this too. I'd turn this into a picture holder.
Average book on these is just $7,000, sometimes "classic" doesn't necessarily mean, "valuable", these stickered for more than $80,000 when new. This XKR reminds me of my late friend Dan who bought a 1985's BMW 528 years ago for around $1,000. He called it his, "one-thousand dollar, two-thousand dollar car" because every time something on it went, and that was quite often, it ran him $2,000. To which I say, "damn the torpedoes", get in my garage you sweet minx and maul my bank account, don't make me beg.
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