đź”» WATCH FULL VIDEO BELOWđź”»
Driving Steve McQueen’s 1957 Jaguar XKSS: The King of Cool’s Ultimate Ride
Steve McQueen. The name itself conjures images of grit, rebellion, and a smoldering, undeniable coolness. For nearly 25 years since his passing, the legend of this tormented, talented soul continues to dominate the cultural landscape. A dyslexic kid who weathered a childhood of homelessness and foster homes, McQueen found his voice and his fame on the stage and in front of the camera. He was a walking paradox—capable of profound kindness one moment, then consumed by a volatile temper the next. A man’s man and a lady’s man, he possessed a wicked sense of humor and a relentless, almost obsessive drive for perfection.
McQueen’s life and career mirrored the dramatic tension of the stage itself: a perfect blend of comedy and tragedy. His piercing blue eyes and moody intensity drew everyone in, whether they met him in person or only watched him on screen. That raw, gritty sex appeal catapulted him to superstardom during his lifetime and cemented his status as a permanent Hollywood icon after his untimely death from cancer at the age of 50 on November 7, 1980. Along with contemporaries like Newman, Brando, and Garner, McQueen defined the archetype of the macho American actor for decades.
As biographer Penina Spiegel noted, quoting Faye Dunaway, “He’s the misunderstood bad boy you’re sure you can cure with a little warmth and some home cooking.” This duality—the tough exterior hiding a complex, often vulnerable interior—is what made him so magnetic.
But beyond the films and the persona, there was another, deeper passion that defined McQueen: his profound love for machines. Cars and motorcycles weren’t just props in his movies; they were extensions of his very being. From the iconic Norton motorcycle he rode in The Great Escape to the steam engine he bonded with in The Sand Pebbles, his affinity for all things mechanical was genuine and profound. He even commissioned his own dune buggy for the beach scenes in the original The Thomas Crown Affair and starred in the seminal motorcycle documentary On Any Sunday.
For car enthusiasts, however, two films stand out as the ultimate testaments to McQueen’s automotive passion: Bullitt (1968) and Le Mans (1971). Who can forget the heart-pounding San Francisco chase scene where Lt. Frank Bullitt, in his iconic green Mustang fastback, pursues a pair of menacing thugs in a black Dodge Charger? Fans have analyzed every frame, every gear shift, and every near-miss. McQueen himself drove the Mustang in nearly all the intense action sequences, performing stunts that would make most actors balk.
Le Mans was even closer to McQueen’s heart. He envisioned a film that captured the raw passion, the grueling pain, and the sheer spectacle of endurance racing with unflinching realism. This meant immersing himself in the 1970 race, filming before, during, and after the event, with McQueen behind the wheel of a Gulf-liveried Porsche 917 whenever possible. The production was a notorious disaster—running months over schedule and spiraling wildly over budget. Directors came and went, and McQueen’s marriage to his first wife, Neile, was falling apart. Yet, like Bullitt, Le Mans has become a revered classic among car aficionados. It also gave us one of McQueen’s most enduring quotes: “Racing is life. Anything that happens before or after is just waiting.”
McQueen possessed genuine driving talent. While he may not have had the raw speed to compete at the absolute pinnacle of motorsport, like Paul Newman, he certainly had the skill to forge a solid career as a journeyman sports-car racer. A perfect example of this was his participation in the 1970 Sebring 12-hour enduro. Teaming up with Peter Revson in a capable, albeit slightly dated, Porsche 908/2, McQueen proved his mettle. While the newer, faster Porsche 917s faltered due to mechanical issues, the little 908 hummed along, steadily climbing the leaderboard as the hours ticked by. It ultimately took a legendary performance from Mario Andretti in a faster Ferrari 512 to catch and overtake Revson in one of the closest finishes in Sebring history. Revson and McQueen brought their Porsche home in a hard-earned second place overall, with McQueen competing despite having one foot in a cast from a recent motorcycle accident.
From Le Mans Legend to Street Machine
McQueen’s early automotive journey began with MGs, the quintessential British sports car for aspiring drivers. But as his career took off and his fame grew, so did his ability to afford more exotic and powerful machinery. He owned a Lotus 11, a potent 289 Cobra, Ferraris, Porsches, and even Packards. By the time of his death, his collection boasted dozens of cars and over 100 motorcycles, plus a few airplanes. Among these legendary machines was a 1957 Jaguar XKSS, chassis number XK.SS.713.
To understand the significance of the XKSS, we must look back to the dominance of Jaguar in 1950s racing. Ferrari was already a major force, and Aston Martin and Maserati occasionally threw down challenges. Porsche was emerging as a rising star, but it was the fast, reliable, and breathtakingly beautiful XK120Ms, C-Types, and D-Types from Coventry that commanded the sports car and endurance racing circuits. Jaguars claimed victory at the 24 Hours of Le Mans five times during that decade, including an Audi R8-like hat-trick in 1955, 1956, and 1957 (though the latter two were achieved by the privateer Ecurie Ecosse team). Countless other victories followed in professional and amateur races across Europe and the United States.
The D-Type, in particular, stands as one of the definitive front-engine sports racers of its era. It also served as the design and engineering inspiration for the iconic E-Type that would debut in 1961. The D-Type was a marvel of engineering for its time—straightforward yet technologically advanced, powered by Jaguar’s legendary XK DOHC inline-six engine. Developed in late 1952 and 1953, and campaigned by the factory team from 1954 to 1956, the D-Type featured a unique chassis layout that evolved throughout its production life. The area aft of the firewall was a monocoque tub, while the front section was a tubular space frame housing the engine, front suspension, and a lightweight aluminum hood that opened forward. It’s a rare breed of race car that manages to be both brutally effective on the track and ethereally beautiful off it—the D-Type was precisely that. Its sensual, flowing lines were the masterwork of Jaguar designer and aerodynamicist Malcolm Sayer and company founder Sir William Lyons.
Steering was handled by a precise rack-and-pinion system, while Dunlop supplied the powerful disc brakes and stylish alloy knock-off wheels. The suspension was conventional for the period, featuring upper and lower wishbones with torsion bars at the front and a live rear axle with trailing links at the rear. Most factory D-Types were equipped with 3.4-liter XK engines, fed by three side-draft Weber carburetors and utilizing dry-sump lubrication. Early models were factory-rated at around 250 horsepower, mated to Jaguar’s own all-synchro four-speed transmission. The D-Type naturally evolved during its racing life: we saw “long-nose” and “short-nose” body configurations, power outputs increased, and nearly all cars featured a prominent dorsal fin on the rear deck to enhance high-speed straight-line stability. It was also a remarkably compact machine—at just 154 inches long, a D-Type is actually shorter than a modern-generation Mazda Miata.
Jaguar produced D-Types for its own factory racing efforts, as well as customer cars for privateer teams. In total, 67 such D-Types were constructed, competing valiantly into the early 1960s. However, by the time the factory withdrew from racing after the 1956 season, the car was beginning to show its age as a front-line competitor. The 1958 sports-car racing season mandated 3.0-liter engines, which put the D-Type at a distinct disadvantage. Ferrari’s Testa Rossa was significantly more powerful, and the factory Aston Martins were faster as well. Jaguar found itself with 25 customer D-Types on its hands—and no takers.
The exact origin of the idea to convert these unsold D-Types into street-legal GT cars is somewhat murky, but that’s precisely what Jaguar did. They added a full-width windscreen to the front and grafted a rather crude top and luggage rack onto the rear deck, replacing the dorsal fin. Removable fixed-pane side curtains were fitted to the doors. A vestigial exhaust system was devised, complete with a heat shield that only partially prevented drivers from singeing the calves of their passengers on the hot sidepipes. The lighting was converted to street specifications, two upholstered seats were installed, a passenger-side door was added, and four small bumperettes were bolted on. And that, essentially, was that.
A total of 16 XKSSs were built. At least two were later converted back to D-Type racing specifications, and a few cars originally built as race cars were later transformed into XKSS-spec or something similar
