2024 Lexus GX 550 Premium+ gear hauling test in Oregon
BEND, Oregon – “I hope it’s worth the noise!” I kept hearing Richard Lewis announcing that, with grand horns blaring inches from his head, in that cinematic classic, “Robin Hood: Men in Tights.” For more than 13 hours, I drove the 2024 Lexus GX 550 Premium+ along California and Oregon highways at a steady 70 mph. Any faster, and the wind noise would elevate from a steady roar to booming. Not because of the GX, mind you – it’s surprisingly quiet for a box on wheels with mirrors shaped like a hardcover book – but because of the full-roof accessory roof rack I requested be installed for my journey from Agoura Hills outside Los Angeles to Bend in central Oregon.
As I described in Part 1 of my GX outdoor adventure road trip story, the accessory rack was necessary because the Premium and Luxury trim levels do not come with the Overtrail’s raised roof rails that let you install your own crossbars or other racks (such as the Yakima crossbars I own). While I could’ve requested Lexus install the $440 cross bar official accessory, I opted for the $1,580 accessory “Roof Rack.” It would look a lot cooler, for starters, which I have to imagine is why I so frequently see such full-roof racks on Land Rover Defenders, Mercedes G 550s and other luxury off-roaders. Relatedly, it seems like the sort of thing someone would be likely to fit to their GX; trying it out therefore seemed useful for reporting purposes. I was also on a mission to use it for transporting a rented kayak once in Bend, and it sure seemed like it would be more useful than plain-old crossbars.
But to know for sure, I asked the expert opinion of Danielle, the friendly employee of Bend Kayak School and Rentals (pictured above left) that set me up with a lovely yellow tandem kayak and the straps needed to make sure it stayed atop the GX.
“So, I’m borrowing this car. I was wondering if that big rack up there actually makes a difference for transporting and securing kayaks?” I asked as she secured the front strap onto the little tow hook that’s apparently just underneath the right side of the bumper. She knew it was probably there, I didn’t.
“Oh yeah. All that extra surface area is going to make it a lot more stable, and make it easier to get up there,” Danielle reported to my relief. It was worth the noise, it was!
Obviously, the GX is quite a tall vehicle; in fact, it’s exactly as tall as me at 6-foot-3. My father is 6-foot-even, so we’re as close to a best-case scenario apart from some former basketball players. Still, it was quite a hoist to get the big tandem kayak off and later up there again. Danielle is barely cracking 5-feet, however, so she expertly used the door sills and doors to hoist herself and the kayak up. Not her first rodeo. Personally, if I were going to be routinely transporting a kayak places, I’d probably get a wagon because of the lower roof. I wonder if Audi sells a full-length platform roof rack for the RS 6 Avant? (Strokes chin.)
The rack wasn’t the only gear-hauling accessory I brought along on the trip – the Yakima StageTwo heavy-duty bike rack that made its debut last year when I made a similar trip with a Honda Pilot TrailSport also made the journey. Every GX comes standard with a 2-inch trailer hitch, which is “hidden” behind a curiously conspicuous panel. It pops off easily — I used a flat-head screw driver to pull out a pair of plastic pins, which pop back in just as easily enough.
There were no issues installing or uninstalling the rack, which is more a credit to the Yakima, but the Lexus GX gets a pretty big shout-out, too, as it proved to be perfectly set up for carrying a bike back there. You see, the rack folds up when not in use and folds down when you need access to the liftgate; when loaded with a bike, it tilts down to let the liftgate swing up. However, that functionality was often not needed at all thanks to the GX’s pop-up rear window. I could just walk up, pop open the window, and easily drop in or pick out items in the cargo area without touching the bike rack. I had known the pop-up rear window could be useful, but I didn’t know about this. By contrast, the Land Rover Defender and specifically its jumbo, door-mounted tire made using my bike rack difficult (I couldn’t use the inboard platform).
I could even pop the glass with the kayak in place. Barely, but it was still more do-able than attempting to open the whole hatch with the strap in place.
Now, above you’ll also see that I discovered the bike rack can double as a river float tube rack. Sweet. Sure beats inflating it at the river (though the GX has a power outlet to do so), trying to tie it to the roof rack (lamest roof-mounted wheel ever) or trying to stuff inside. I probably could have, though, as the GX’s boxiness proved time and time again to be a boon for packing whatever inside. Ironically, I didn’t bring any of my usual luggage test bags, instead opting for smaller soft-case bags that were easier to load given the large, awkwardly shaped items that needed to come along as well. That included a fold-up Thule stroller, a child bike seat, helmets, a kid’s balance bike, inflatable rafts, small oars, camp chairs and a box of groceries. I actually had room left over, so I’m pretty happy with the amount of cargo volume present.
As a refresher, I was meeting my family in Bend (my wife, 3-year-old son, mother and father). Although we could technically all fit in two rows, my son’s jumbo car seat makes that awfully squishy. As such, we kept the driver-side third-row up. My wife, who is 5-foot-zip, reports that it was perfectly comfortable back there and also liked that the GX’s boxiness makes it less claustrophobic than in other third rows. With the passenger-side third-row seat lowered, we had enough room for the stroller, kid’s bike and various backpacks for our various adventures. Basically, the GX having one of the least useful spaces behind its third row wasn’t a hindrance on this trip.
Interior storage is sufficient. The cupholders are big enough to hold a wine-bottle-sized water bottle, and the door holders are similarly as wide (though the armrest above requires a slightly smaller bottle). The wireless phone charger is conveniently located and didn’t roast my phone. On the other hand, the amount of center console real estate devoted to the cigarette lighter power port and the little door that covers it seems like a waste and the surround wood trim unimpressive. Also, I don’t think the little storage shelf on the passenger side is that useful.
As for technology, this GX already received the over-the-air update that keeps the native infotainment system shortcut buttons on screen while using Apple CarPlay. This is a game-changer. The Toyota Land Cruiser I had the following week hadn’t been updated, and the need to constantly go back and forth between the Apple and Toyota systems is endlessly annoying. Now, I can’t say the GX’s bigger screen makes much of a difference versus the Land Cruiser’s (14 vs 12.3 inches), since the extra real estate is entirely devoted to the climate controls. Those are regular buttons in the Land Cruiser. The GX’s touchscreen controls work fine, they also stay permanently docked and still have physical temperature knobs, but I can’t say it makes much of a difference. If anything, I prefer the little ledge under the Land Cruiser’s screen that lets you steady your hand while making inputs.
To be honest, the Lexus infotainment system gave me the most pause as I contemplated spending 25-plus hours with it, but it ultimately was just fine. As I described in Part 1, the driver assistance tech proved to be the greater annoyance, but the offending features at least stayed off. Ultimately, from a driving, practicality and functionality perspective, the Lexus GX 550 Premium+ greatly exceeded my expectations. Now, I only dipped a toe into its full outdoor adventure capability since the furthest I took it off road was on some unpaved parking lots. There is therefore even more versatility here, but given its off-roading capability contributes to its poor fuel economy, it’s hard not to wonder if the trade-off is worth it if you don’t routinely venture to more rugged places.
I suppose a similar argument can be made about that full-roof rack: Unless you’re going to be doing your fair share of kayaking or roof tenting, you may want to skip it – even if it always looks cool. It probably won’t be worth the noise.
