Early spring in Tokyo is magical. That’s when sakura—the Japanese cherry blossoms—envelop the city in delicate waves of white and pink. The flowers usually bloom in early April, and within mere weeks, they’re gone. The beauty and impermanence of these falling petals draws people from around the world.
Sakura holds special cultural significance for Japan as well. It’s the country’s unofficial national flower, next to the Chrysanthemum, and the cherry blossom has long symbolized life and death amid the ephemeral nature of existence. For many, sakura season is a deeply emotional, transcendental experience. In simpler terms, life is short and beautiful. Celebrate it before the petals drop.
It’s a lesson on my mind while venturing north in a 2024 Lexus LC 500 Convertible. I’m not in Tokyo, and it’s not Spring. Quite the opposite in fact—Late October in Northern Michigan, approximately six months and 6,200 miles from the earliest sakura blooms. Nor is this a typical LC 500, if such a thing exists. This one is a Bespoke Build, featuring a white-and-blue leather interior set against the company’s stunning Copper Crest exterior finish.
It’s the perfect Japanese machine for an American fall color tour to one of the prettiest autumn destinations you’ll ever see. Allow me to present the Copper Crest LC 500 in perhaps the only environment where it blends in: Michigan’s fittingly named Tunnel of Trees.
At just over 27 miles long, M-119 largely follows the Lake Michigan shoreline north from Harbor Springs. The Tunnel of Trees covers much of it, though it isn’t a tunnel per se. Once you pass Stutsmanville Road, the tree-lined road becomes properly tree covered, and stays that way until the highway ends in Cross Village. Even on sunny days, the canopy of Oaks and Maples is thick enough to block most sunlight. The rays that do pierce the autumn canopy set the scene ablaze in a bonfire of yellows, oranges, and reds. It’s beautiful, humbling, and like the sakura, the event only lasts a couple of weeks.
So when I finally reached Harbor Springs in the LC, I realized I wasn’t just enjoying a color tour. With that shimmering Copper Crest exterior, I was part of it. There are precious few convertibles still in production, and none strike a balance between elegance and aggression like the LC 500. It pains me to admit Lexus’s corporate spindle grille really works here, giving the LC a futuristic ambiance despite the design being several years old at this point. One Jeep Wrangler owner asked me if it was a new concept car. He was shocked to learn it debuted in 2016.
He certainly wasn’t the only individual I encountered during my afternoon at the Tunnel. Just like Tokyo in spring, Northern Michigan in fall draws people en masse to enjoy the sights and smells of the season. But here’s the thing. As I inched to a stop on the shoulder of M-119 shortly before the Tunnel’s entrance, phone cameras turned toward me. This place was achingly beautiful, framed by searing yellow foliage to the east and Lake Michigan to the west. A hundred feet down a modest cliff, waves crashed against the shoreline. Birds sang. Unicorns frolicked in the meadow. And yet, people were snapping pics of the LC.
This place. At this time. In this car. Life is indeed short. And for a few hours, I intended to shine before the petals dropped. I brought the 471-horsepower 5.0-liter V-8 to life and left the lakeside rest stop for a kaleidoscope tour of the Tunnel.
New convertibles are rare, but naturally aspirated V-8 sports cars are near extinction. Only three remain—the Chevrolet Corvette, Ford Mustang, and this Lexus. It burbles on a cold start with a delectable mix of bass and treble that reminds you there’s no Small Block under the hood. Once warmed up, the Lexus V-8 doesn’t growl and spit under throttle like an American lump, nor does it scream like something from Ferrari. It strikes a very satisfying middle ground that could—even after years in production—be the best-sounding V-8 on sale today.
Winding slowly through the tunnel in Sport+ mode, the irony of the situation is not lost on me. Here I am, four hours north of the Motor City, still a bastion of American muscle, having a decidedly American experience in a Japanese car. The roof is open thanks to rare late-season temps nearing 80 degrees. I’m paddle-swapping cogs in the 10-speed automatic primarily for the noise, holding gears a bit longer then snapping down a few gears in the corners to loose some adolescent cracks and pops from the exhaust. The LC’s suspension is fitted with active tech that somehow keeps the ride soft when it needs to be, and firm when you want it.
There’s just one problem. Between the perfect weather and peak autumn color, everyone within a three-state radius descended upon the Tunnel at the same time.
Unfortunately, M-119 isn’t well suited for such traffic. Aside from being one of the shortest official highways in Michigan, it’s also the narrowest. There’s no center line because it’s not wide enough to accommodate normal lanes. There are no paved shoulders. Because of this, there’s precious little space for opposing vehicles to pass. Up the pucker factor by 10 if you’re driving something with big haunches. Fun fact: did you know a Lexus LC 500 is exactly 7.1 feet wide?
Here’s another fun fact: a Ford F-150 is 7.9 feet with standard mirrors installed. Meanwhile, M-119 is 18 feet wide, total, with perhaps an extra foot of dirt runoff before the trees begin. So when an F-150 with tow mirrors pulling a freaking travel trailer forced just about everyone off the road (including me) at one point, I found a driveway about halfway through the journey, changed my underwear, and turned around to seek a quieter route. I didn’t want my tour to end on the back of a tow truck thanks to a careless RV driver trying to get a better look at the Lexus.
So I high-tailed it back to Stutsmanville Road and took a left as everyone else went straight. The highway was clear, the trees were glowing, and the V-8 begged for revs. When I stopped barely a mile away from the intersection, the road unfurled a gorgeous view. That turn was the best decision I made all day.
I have no idea how long the LC 500 will stick around. Only 1,294 have sold through September, and Lexus typically sells less than 2,000 a year. A new touchscreen was added for 2024, giving the car a much-needed interior upgrade over the frustrating trackpad from years prior. Copper Crest was added to the palette, a decision for which I’m eternally grateful. This color tour would’ve been special in any LC 500. Driving this one, I felt like a 471-hp leaf on the wind, and it turned heads constantly. Several said they’d never seen one before. One person told me it looked like a spaceship. With that kind of feedback, I suspect the LC will still look modern 10 years on.
Now into November, the leaves have dropped. The Tunnel of Trees is a tunnel of branches. M-119 is a silent ribbon of tarmac. It will remain mostly cloudy until Lake Michigan freezes, at which point snow will conceal everything that made this color tour special. Everything except the LC 500. It still looks perpetually radiant in Copper Crest, enduring as the last naturally aspirated luxury V-8 GT convertible in the world.
I bet it would look even better next April in Tokyo.
Gallery: 2024 Lexus LC 500 Convertible Color Tour
