It’s not often a girl journo writes off a 4-door V8 Ferrari California, and manages to claw herself back into the insular boys club of the South African motoring media. I did. Five years ago almost to the day, on 2 September 2014 as the motoring editor of a popular women’s magazine, I took the Italian stallion out for a test drive to celebrate 14 years clean and sober. Go figure.

On the way back to the dealership, I made an error of judgment and T-boned a tractor-heavy, long-wheelbase 7-seat Pajero. As airbags bashed into my breastbone, the Ferrari pirouetted across two lanes, pieces of metal, wheels and doors flying. Chances of survival were slim. I’ve sometimes been called the cat with nine lives. On that spring day, on a back street in Benmore, Sandton, I definitely was afforded a miraculous tenth – as were my three passengers, who all walked away from Italian metal mayhem with hardly a scratch.

The same couldn’t be said about the Ferrari. Total write-off. Excess bill of R320,000 (that’s what 10% on a R3.2-million ride costs) plus another R300k for the Pajero. Thankfully, I was cleared by the police of negligence, got a good lawyer and avoided having to sell myself and my house to pay the R620k bill.

Post the accident there was plenty of drama. Sunday tabloid street pole headlines, “Author crashes rare R3.2-million Ferrari”. I became known as the “girl who smashed that red car” and was almost bullied into early retirement by gangs of trolls on social media. The worst type of sexism prevailed. There was even a radio show which had listeners responding to the question: “should women be allowed to drive expensive sports cars?”

And then came the PTSD, the endless replays of the accident, the terror of holding a steering wheel again, the irrational fears that at every stop street, robot and traffic circle, a car might out of the blue careen into me. As a recovering addict, my sobriety was severely tested. I somehow managed to stay clean and sober, when in all honesty I felt like smoking heroin out of the mangled exhaust pipes.

But, “what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger”. Within days, I brushed off the debris, jumped back on the horse and attended a Porsche Cayenne launch. A fortnight after the accident I got a high profile radio motoring show. In the months that followed, I went on lots of advanced driving courses to improve my skills. And therapy. A year later I wrote a book called Crashed – How Trashing a Ferrari Saved My Life. And over the next few years, I got to realise that the stones the critics throw can be magically turned into tiny blobs of butterfly larvae. Disaster can grow rear-wing spoilers.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago at the Dezzi Raceway, near Port Shepstone in KZN where I found myself behind the wheels of the just-launched 2019 Lexus RC F and RC F Track Edition. Both are rear-wheel drive and share a naturally aspirated 5.0-litre, V8 engine, brandishing 351kW, and 530Nm of impressive torque.

Rivals in the segment are premium sport coupes like the BMW M4, Audi RS5 and Mercedes-AMG C63. Some have even compared the 2019 RC F to that 4-door Ferrari – gulp. In fact, the specs of the 2014 California are eerily similar: V8, 365kW, 504Nm… Triple gulp.

Dezzi Raceway is one of the trickiest tracks in SA, with a mixture of blind corners, scary hairpin bends, a long straight and plenty of elevation changes. I won’t lie. Despite having worked through PTSD, every time I get on track in some super-powered racer, an uninvited flashback gets my heart tapping a little faster. But the Buddha says: “Nothing can harm you as much as your own thoughts unguarded.” So I banished doubt, put on my racing helmet and settled into the high-back leather sports seats of the new Lexus RC F Track Edition.

I’d been somewhat deceived en route to Dezzi, cruising the back-roads from Durban to Port Shepstone in what appeared to be a vehicle tailor-made for serene, noiseless driving. After all, the RC F is a heavy coupe, weighing in at 1.7 tonnes. Although the Track Edition is lighter than its brother, having shaved 80kg due to adding a carbon-fibre bonnet, carbon-ceramic brakes, a carbon roof, boot lid and rear spoiler, it’s still not a light car.

What could a brute like this do on track? I was soon to discover that weight on paper can be deceptive. With an electronically limited top speed of 250km/h, racing from 0-100km in just 4.3 seconds (the straight RC F comes in at a very respectable 4.5 seconds) the TE took to the track like a super-confident demon. The steering is quick and responsive and while it encapsulates lightness, it also feels very precise and connected.

The TE lost all its civility and handled corners much like a lighter sports fiend. The rear end of the TE teased and danced but there was never a sense that it would slide out of line, thanks to improved suspension and Lexus’ VDIM (Vehicle Dynamic Integrated Management) system. First introduced by Toyota in July 2004, VDIM is basically an integrated handling and software system that assists traction control, electronic stability control and steering to improve overall responsiveness and safety. It’s a system that’s designed to help the driver drive a whole lot better. After a couple of laps I felt like a proper little Michaela Speedmacher.

Plus the TE sounds downright rude. There’s no manufactured sound in this brute like many of the other members of the Teutonic sports brigade. By way of the TE’s exclusive new titanium exhaust muffler, the Japanese have opted for a much more authentic, raw sound that when at high revs, emits an almost operatic, high-pitched wail. In Sport + mode it’s all about deep baritone.

My biggest gripe in the RC F and Track Edition is the not-so-easy to operate trackpad, linked to the infotainment system which takes a whole lot of effort to get used to. In fact, this is a problem across the Lexus range. Why on earth has no one replaced the clumsy central trackpad which is unintuitive and distracting if one is trying to simultaneously drive and control the infotainment system, which is what one does in a car? This flaw distracts from an otherwise almost perfect interior, showcasing Lexus’ celebrated attention to detail, strutting its stuff in fine Flare Red leather and Alcantara. The Mark Levinson sound system is stand-out quality – it just takes some time to hook it up to Bluetooth.

Pricing between the two derivatives is also somewhat gasp-inducing. The straight Lexus RC F comes in at R1,318,300, while the Lexus RC F Track Edition is R700k more expensive, with a daunting price tag of R2,098,200. That’s what a whole lot of carbon fibre will cost you.

The new RC F and TE have shown that Lexus is clearly serious about keeping their F models in the track game.

“For Lexus to continue providing a sports car that offers ‘amazement and passion’ to customers, we fully realised that the driving performance must be taken to the next level,” chief of development, Yuichi Tsurumoto, said in the Lexus press release.

“We worked towards enhancing performance and vehicle behaviour at the limit. More concretely, decreasing understeer and improving the steering at the limit. Furthermore, we also worked to enhance the road-hugging ability in order to increase vehicle stability.”

In the US, more than 28 million Lexuses have sold since the iconic LS 400 was unveiled at the Detroit Motor show in 1989. Today, Lexus is one of the hippest and most coveted brands in the land of Trump, attracting huge street cred among the likes of music icons Jay Z and will.i.am. I find it depressing that locally Lexus is sidelined as a niche brand. With the likes of the 2019 RC F and Track Edition, perhaps South African premium sport car lovers will disentangle themselves from German heavy metal loyalty and sample some noble Nippon steel.

Service and Maintenance:

The RC models have a Lexus best-in-class, seven-year or 105,000km Warranty and Full Maintenance Plan. Vehicle service intervals are at 15,000km or alternatively, once a year. DM