Maybe it says something that I can’t recall what I was driving at the time, but I do remember what I was chasing. And I remember where we were, what road we were on, what the weather was like that day in North Wales and even who was driving the car ahead. If you showed me a road map at the right scale, I could point to the exact corner that he drifted through like a rally driver on one of the nearby special stages.
But mostly I remember the sound, that 10-cylinder howl that started high and only got higher, and how the trio of exhaust pipes in that inverted triangle seemed to flare just a little as the engine speed climbed and climbed. I must have been driving something quite serious because I stayed with the car in front for a corner or two, but after that it was gone, me and whatever it was I’d been driving left choking in its dust.
I have been aching to drive a Lexus LFA ever since. Moments like that tend to leave an impression on you, and from the moment that jet black car sat down into that left-hander, rotated to a lurid angle and slid through the bend before disappearing into the distance, I have held the Lexus supercar in the very highest regard. Would that still be the case after actually driving one myself?
