2024 Lexus GX 550 Road Test: Family adventure trip to Oregon

2024 Lexus GX 550 Road Test: Family adventure trip to Oregon

BEND, Ore. – During the first drive press launch of the 2024 Lexus GX 550, the marketing folks noted that they envisioned the new GX being perfect for small families to take on outdoorsy road trip vacations.

“Ah ha!” I said to myself, and definitely not the journalist standing next to me wondering why that marketing tidbit was such a eureka moment. As it turns out, I have a small family and I was going to take an outdoorsy road trip vacation in June! E-mails were written, the accessory catalog consulted and a few months later, a $69,250 GX 550 Premium+ in too-perfect Nori Green showed up in the driveway, along with the $1,580 full platform accessory “Low Profile Roof Rack” I requested for transporting a kayak once up in the outdoorsy paradise of Bend, Oregon. The GX’s standard tow hitch would be unearthed from behind its plastic shell for my Yakima StageTwo bike rack and my electric Gazelle bicycle — Bend’s a cyclist’s paradise, too. The 40.2-cubic-foot cargo area that I already discovered was the best two-row midsize luxury SUV I’ve luggage tested (but nearly the worst three-row SUV) would be filled with a kids’ balance bike, inflatable rafts, camp chairs and other gear.

I’d be making the 836-mile drive to Bend from outside Los Angeles by myself (a 13-hour drive with a 3-year-old? No thank you), but once there, we’d be using all three rows as my son, wife and parents would be joining me via the wonders of aviation. That need for the third row nixed the two-row-only GX Overtrail, which is the most outdoorsy of the trim levels. The Premium and Luxury, however, do not have the Overtrail’s raised roof rails that would’ve allowed me to use my own Yakima crossbars for the kayak. Hence the platform rack that would be plugged into the fixed mounting points in faux flush rails. Not great for the budget, but the full rack would end up proving its worth.

But first, it proved to be quite loud. To the surprise of absolutely no one, mounting a metal platform to the roof of a vehicle already shaped like a box is not a recipe for slippery aerodynamics. Go above 60 and the noise crests beyond detectable to a steady roar. Go beyond 70, and it’s booming. That it starts forward of and covers the sunroof makes a big difference, too, as the Land Cruiser First Edition’s full rack starts after the sunroof and makes less noise. That would be the first reason I set the GX’s cruise control to 70 and rarely went over.

The second would be fuel economy. It’s not good. The 2024 GX gets a 3.4-liter twin-turbo V6 and 10-speed auto in place of its ancient predecessor’s 4.6-liter naturally aspirated V8 and six-speed. You’d think that would make for a considerable difference, but EPA estimates sit at 15 miles per gallon city, 21 mpg highway and 17 mpg combined. The old one got 15/19/16. Wow, such progress. In 1,772 miles of almost entirely interstate and rural, two-lane highway driving, my GX 550 Premium+ test vehicle (with the roof rack, it must be restated) achieved 20.4 mpg. I actually calculated that, by the way, although the car reported the exact same number. Good to know that’s accurate. Total fuel cost was $424.26 of premium, broken into nine fuel stops – its range barely cracks 300 miles.

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So driving something else certainly could’ve been more economical – the Honda Pilot Trailsport I made nearly the same journey in last year likely would’ve cost about $60 less to fill – but there’s more to this powertrain’s story than just “Why did they bother downsizing again?” Well, the 3.4-liter boosted V6’s horsepower advantage over the old V8 isn’t that much – 349 to 301 – but the torque output exploded up to 479 pound-feet from 329. As much as I was grannying the engine to keep it as economical (and the roof rack as quiet) as possible, passing power was suitably prodigious along the two-lane Highway 97. I’d gun the throttle and pull out to get by a semi, camper or a fellow motorist somehow wanting to go slower than me, and bam, I’d look down to see I was already going nearly 100 with resolute stability. Better still, the engine is buttery smooth and pleasingly quiet, especially when in comparison to the Land Cruiser’s raspy hybrid four-cylinder (more on those comparisons later this week). It feels like it belongs in a Lexus.

The transmission is happy to kick down in such situations, as it was when tackling the multitude of grades around Lake Shasta (pictured above), Mount Shasta and through the Cascades, but I’d quickly tap the drive mode button to engage Sport just to make the transmission and throttle that much snappier. It’s not a considerable difference, as is the case with the steering, though I did appreciate the subtle extra bit of steering effort when driving through the area’s myriad long sweepers. Sport mode didn’t do anything to the suspension – adaptive variable dampers are exclusive to the Luxury+ and Overtrail trims.

That means this Premium+ trim level had the stock steel suspension with fixed roll bars (as in no E-KDSS of the Overtrail) and 20-inch wheels on standard all-season rubber (as in no 22’s of the Luxury or all-terrains of the Overtrail). All the better for it, I say, especially in regard to the wheels. Giant dubs on a body-on-frame vehicle are rarely a recipe for smooth riding, but whether it’s the prudent helping of sidewall or astute tuning of that stock steel suspension, the GX Premium+ has a smooth and composed ride with just a morsel of waft to it without venturing into nautical rebound territory. Better still, there’s no tell-tale wiggling and jiggling from the body-on-frame structure. The Land Cruiser has that, so does the Sequoia Platinum, almost comically so. All are on the same platform, though, so what’s the deal?

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According to Lexus, the GX’s spring rates, damper rates and bushing durometer are among the differences between GX and Land Cruiser, the results of which are apparently heightened in a body-on-frame vehicle. There’s also the matter of the “Lexus Driving Signature,” or the effort to make every Lexus drive in a similar way regardless of the platform they’re on. In other words, the GX needs to drive like a Lexus.

Well, it may ride like a Lexus, but its handling is just a wee bit different from an LC 500, or even an RX. Gunning the engine pitches the flat-as-a-board hood upward by a few degrees, hitting the brakes sends it diving equally so. Turning at even modest speeds rolls the body in a deliberate, but controlled manner. Going straight through one of Bend’s many roundabouts was a delightful “hard to starboard, hard to port” affair. If you’re looking to the GX as some sort of competitor to a BMW X5, these dynamics will be appalling. If, however, you think sport-tuned SUVs are a bit silly and find body motions make things a helluva lot more interesting behind the wheel … well, I think you know where I land on the scale. The GX is fun for being dynamically worse on road, but to be clear, does not warrant the descriptor of “ponderous.”

Frankly, I was expecting the GX to be far more trucky, and it just isn’t. After 10-plus hours of California highways (the 5 and 99 if you must know), it was exemplary; a comfortable, refined and powerful steed for the long haul free from annoyances. Well, once I got around to finally unearthing all the driver “assistance” features that made the first hour or so behind the wheel a beeping and dinging affair. Seriously, the GX feels like an impeccably engineered automobile that was turned over to a helicopter mom at the last minute. The lane-keeping assist was the first to be shut off, but that’s standard operating procedure for me. Later, after a quick rest stop pause, I attempted to reverse out of my parking spot only for the automatic emergency rear braking system to slam on the brakes. The GX apparently can’t tell the difference between a bike rack plugged into itself and an errant small child. Nothing in the driver assistance touchscreen menus seemed to do the trick, and just as I was pondering testing out the GX’s off-roading acumen by mounting a curb and driving through the Lebec Rest Area lawn, I spotted a little button by my left knee next to the liftgate button with an icon depicting a car, an explosion, a traffic cone and the word “Off.” Bingo. Pictured below left, that shuts off the offending parking sensors, but it also sporadically brings up a warning in the IP, complete with a “Ding!” that the system in question is off. I would therefore make a habit throughout the trip, whenever the rack was in place, of pressing that button before and after engaging reverse. The button is certainly better than one in the touchscreen, but it’s still annoying and I did not have to do any of that with the Land Rover Defender.

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The worst and most ridiculous system, however, was the driver monitor alert. To be clear, this is usually a good feature in cars, as it traditionally helps prevent drivers from nodding off or just zoning out. Historically, I have rarely triggered such systems. To the GX, I was a long-haul trucker on my third non-stop day listening to Kenny G.

Simply gazing over at what you’re seeing above for a second with zero cars ahead and the adaptive cruise control engaged would cause the car to “Ding, ding!” and take over the IP with an alert of “Driver Inattention Detected Look Forward.” And that’s not all. While cruising along for the Nth hour, road straight as an arrow, I had the audacity to put my left hand at the top of the wheel and lean against the center armrest. “Ding, ding!” It literally told me to sit up. You’re critiquing my posture, now? Should I eat my vegetables, too?

This was presumably because some combination of arm and seating angle prevented the nanny cam from seeing me, but dude, come on. Once I finally found the button to disable the system I did, thereby eliminating what should be a perfectly good feature, especially on long road trips where you’re bound to get drowsy.

Thankfully, those various systems stay off once you exit the car. Doing all that menu digging and button pushing for an entire week probably would’ve made me hate the GX in quick order. In reality, I loved it. It was indeed a tremendous choice for making a very long drive to an outdoor adventure spot. But how did it fare once there? What about its interior functionality, people and cargo space, and that noisy accessory roof rack? Stay tuned, that’s coming tomorrow.