We’ve had this LEXUS LC500 for several weeks through some of the worst weather New South Wales has ever seen. The only plague not yet visited upon our wretched souls is the water running red. (mental note: touch wood)
This is the first day biblical storms have not pelted bucket-sized rain drops at us, and to top it off, the sun sparked like a forgotten jewel. This is exactly the kind of weather an LC500 Convertible was conceived for.
After an unsatisfactory lunch of a ham and cheese panini that had been flattened like a knackered pony, I dropped the top and headed for the coast.
The 351kw monster under the bonnet is mere decoration unless you fancy cutting up your licence, so I declared the day to be one of rest. If you slip into the saddle of this car and don’t feel special, there is something wrong with you. With the roof down, you feel like you’ve been touched by the hand of the divine, so taking it easy is more rewarding than you could possibly imagine.
There was a slight chill in the air as Sydney begins its slide down to the blunt end of winter. I left the Climate Concierge in full auto Climate Control mode, letting it also switch the seat and steering wheel heating on and off. I decided the neck heating was a waste of time and wore a scarf instead. I went full Isadora Duncan, hurtling down the freeway with tassels flapping in the breeze. Putting the windows up would only have spoilt the moment.
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ABOVE: 2022 LEXUS LC 500 Convertible in the Royal National Park
Entering the Royal National Park, for the first time in several years, brought with it not a little trepidation. It suffers badly in horrible weather as the roads turn into something a motorist from the 30’s would recognize. Maintenance levels are far below that required for a busy tourist drive with the surface rapidly degrading to the point of downright danger. The Grand Pacific Drive and its Seacliff Bridge features on every NSW brochure, and quite a few car ads to boot, so it is tempting at all costs.
The appalling situation was evident as I crashed through a pothole hidden under a dappled canopy. It was impossible to see, and the sound was so loud, I thought the rear had been ripped asunder. I stopped to inspect the damage, and found a nick taken from the rear alloy. Even though both passenger side wheels hit with the force of nuke, only one was damaged.
The onboard system confirmed the tyre was holding pressure, so it appears the only damage was to my ego.
It took the gloss off the rest of the trip as I weaved through the imperfections like a drunken sailor.
Nonetheless, corners were dispatched with the ease of a kitten on carpet, and acceleration was completely effortless. The latter is a term used all to often, but in this case, it is as subtle as the tones of a Bennet ballad.
The ballad turns to a mad cacophony at the press of a foot.
Twiddling the drive mode dials up the excitement to a level that would otherwise require lassoing yourself to a Titan.
Keeping strictly to speed limits removes urgency, allowing the driver to breathe in the fresh forest air. After a series of hard turns, you emerge from the canopy again, high above the Pacific. After a quick coffee at Flying High Café, I turned homeward bound.
The afternoon brought a cool change, but I refused to raise the roof. I was driving a LEXUS LC500 Convertible and was determined to drink in every single moment.
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