Street parking is tight, and I've crammed the hulking Lexus GX 470 into a spot right up against a sparkling new Mercedes sedan. I swing open the big rear gate of the SUV to get some stuff out of the back, and it comes to rest on the Mercedes's tri-star hood ornament, bending it back a bit. Just then I notice somebody on the sidewalk staring at me. "Trying to get through?" I ask. "No," he scowls. "I'm trying to get to my car, but yours seems to be spilling all over mine."

What a crank, I figure. Until I realize he's right. Here I am trying to fit in among city folk, in a vehicle geared for the ranch—a posh, five-star ranch, that is. Of course, that's the image Lexus is trying to convey with its midrange SUV—which, in Lexus-speak, is the $50,000 model. The GX 470 is plush and forgiving inside, with outer capabilities suitable for forays far beyond city or suburb. The GX 470 has full-time four-wheel drive, with a limited-slip differential for extra traction in the most slippery muck. There are other fancy features you won't find on a basic work vehicle, like automatic height adjustment that provides a bit of extra ground clearance when you need to transport your privileged tush over a stump or something. It's the perfect vehicle for logging barons or oil mavens or other well-heeled denizens of rough terrain.

Like most conventional SUV owners, however, I never made it off-road in the GX 470. I'm taking Lexus's word for it that the GX is a wilderness tamer. For everyday use, the truck has all the conveniences and luxuries most drivers could ever ask for: Heated seats, a dust-control filter, automatic up-down windows all around, and a full complement of other gizmos. The interior shines, with elegant maple trim and a museum-quality layout. These, after all, are Lexus hallmarks. One tradeoff is the optional third-row bench seat, where my kids preferred to set up shop. Because of the GX 470's truck frame and the heavy-duty drivetrain under the chassis, the third-row doesn't fold flat into the floor as it does on many minivans and lighter SUVs. Instead, the seats fold up against the sides of the cargo area, which robs storage space and blocks visibility out the right rear quarter panel. So there is one scenario where this do-everythingmobile is less than ideal: When it needs to be converted from the soccer van into a shipping vessel for big, blocky items.

Besides, there's something that seems excessive about a vehicle with so much capability. American car consumers like to think they are prepared for any eventuality, which is one reason SUVs are so popular in the first place. The GX takes that to an extreme, like a first-aid kit that contains everything from snakebite serum to altitude-sickness pills. Sometimes, it's exciting to live on the edge—to be unprepared for a rainy day. Like that guy with the Mercedes. He'd be stranded if suddenly he had to plow through a bog filled with mud. But for some reason he didn't seem worried about it.