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1955 Jaguar D-Type that won Le Mans sets $21.78 million record price at auction

There's simply no denying that the Jaguar D-Type is one of the most noteworthy race cars ever devised. Jaguar pioneered the use of the monocoque chassis design, and D-Types won the 24 Hours of Le Mans in 1955, 1956, and 1957. And with its bodywork pulled taught over the wheels, engine, and passenger compartment, not to mention the massive fin behind the driver's headrest, the D-Type also one of the most stunning. The car you see above, Jaguar D-Type chassis number XKD 501, won the 24 Hours of Le Mans in 1956, narrowly defeating a team from Aston Martin. Along the way, this D-Type completed 2,507.19 miles at an average speed of 104.47 miles per hour, and a maximum speed of 156.868 mph on the Mulsanne Straight. It was entered by the non-factory team Ecurie Ecosse, and therefore painted in the team's traditional Scottish blue with a white cross. That kind of provenance, coupled with its pristine original race-winning condition, makes XKD 501 extremely valuable. In fact, it just sold at RM Sotheby's Monterey auction for $21.78 million (a $19.8 million bid plus auction fees), making it the most expensive British automobile ever sold at auction. Take a gander at our high-res image gallery above to soak up all its low-slung goodness. Related Video:

2019 Jaguar I-Pace Review: The EV age is approaching

It feels like we're anxiously inching up the initial mountain of a roller coaster track – click, click, click. On the other side is a massive plunge into a widespread electric future where EV's aren't just acceptable alternatives to gas-powered cars, they're superior. There's indeed a veritable train of luxury EVs coming soon, clicking up that track, but the 2019 Jaguar I-Pace is the first from a big-name luxury brand to crest it, providing that first tinge of anticipation for the ride to come. It's wildly fun, surprisingly practical and a more polished product than the perpetually rough-around-the-edges Teslas. It also reimagines what Jaguar can be while also staying true to key elements of its past and present. Driving the silky, effortlessly torquey old Jaguar XF Supercharged was intoxicating, and so is the I-Pace, albeit it in a different and indeed superior all-electric way. Its torque flattens you into the enveloping sport seats slathered in red leather, yet it's responsive without feeling overly caffeinated or neck-snapping. Like other Jaguars, it also provides a little audible pomp to the driving experience. It's no barking F-Type R, but its Active Sound Design system pipes into the cabin a deep, purr-like noise when in Dynamic mode that, if not exactly akin to an actual exhaust system, is much closer to it than the usual high-pitched electric motor whine (you can hear it in the accompanying video). Jaguar recognizes that we expect noise and g-forces to go together. And that goes for g-forces in a straight line as well as around corners. The I-Pace resolutely sticks to even marginal pavement like – well, I've already used the roller coaster metaphor above, so what the hell? – it's on rails. It has the perfect recipe for astonishing grip: all-wheel drive; sticky summer tires on 20-inch wheels pushed to the corners; a heavy battery mounted low and in the middle of the chassis; a 50:50 front-to-rear weight balance; and an available adaptive air suspension that constantly adapts to the road. Oh, and it was engineered by Jaguar, a company widely renowned for its superior-handling cars and SUVs. Steering feel could perhaps be increased a smidge, but through the wheel and the seat of your pants, you do experience what the I-Pace is doing. That adaptive suspension also sops up bumps shockingly well (another Jaguar trait) despite those pretty 20-inch wheels adding some impact harshness (ditto).

2016 Jaguar F-Type S Coupe Quick Spin [w/video]

The Jaguar F-Type – as either a coupe or a convertible – has proved easy to fall in love with. It's one of the best looking cars in the world, period. And it has been endowed since launch with lovely engine options on either end of the range, athletic rear-drive handling, and a tuneful exhaust that sets one's heart to thumping. So how does Jaguar improve on such a winning formula? The answer that enthusiasts have hoped for is that Jag offer its sports machine with a traditional manual gearbox. And for the 2016 model year, those hopes have been fulfilled. Always wiling to take one for the team, I flew out to New York state to drive the 2016 F-Type S Coupe, fitted with the new manual transmission. (The trip included time in the F-Type R AWD that you'll hear more about later, and a long stint in the Range Rover Sport SVR, so I wasn't exactly shy about requesting the gig.) The short version is that the F and the 6MT get along like special sauce, lettuce, and cheese. But for the detailed blow-by-blow follow along. Driving Notes So, how is the manual? That's the primary force animating this review, after all. The short answers are: great, fine, just dandy. The middleweight clutch (not too light, not too firm) is easy to operate at speed or in heavy traffic. The gearlever offers positive, smooth action, not particularly mechanical, with throws that are of average length. The closest analogous experience I've had is with BMW manuals, though the Jag's clutch is slicker. But the biggest win for the stick shift in the F-Type is spiritual (if you'll excuse my being a bit romantic). This is after all the heir to the E-Type legend, a stirring rear-drive coupe (or convertible) that looks like wet sex and goes like heaving hell. The eight-speed automatic will continue to offer a more modern driving experience, but the manual just feels right with the car. You're going to have to prefer that kind of purity over outright speed to get the manual, too. Jag with sell you a hand-shaker with the base, 340-horsepower F-Type or the 380-horse F-Type S, but not with the V8 or new-for-'16 AWD variants. The supercharged V6 in the S is far from disappointing. Keep the sport exhaust active and you're likely to be the best sounding thing on the road that day, unless you run up on a coffee klatch of Ferraris.