It’s nearly 9 p.m. and I’m stepping out of SFO, luggage in hand, heading towards the airport shuttles. I’m tired, feeling the jetlag, and couldn’t be hungrier. The air is cool and everywhere I look, I see EVs—one happens to be the first Cybertruck I’ve seen up close, and ugh. This is certainly California, but hey, it’s also what we signed up for. My best friend and I set out to spend the next five days on a 1,000-mile road trip starting in San Francisco, down to Big Sur, then inland to Sequoia and Yosemite, before wrapping up in San Fran. It’s a lot of driving, but the last thing I’m worried about is being uncomfortable, because our steed is a long-wheelbase 2024 Range Rover SE.
Admittedly, a seven-seater is a bit overkill considering it’s just the two of us touting just as many carry-ons and backpacks in total, but this is the land of excess. Canyon roads be damned, we’re doing this the American—erm, British?—way. As we hop off the shuttle bus, the Range Rover is waiting for us. Lacquered in Belgravia Green paint with a Caraway (read: brown) interior, this spec is quintessentially British and looks like a million bucks, even if this is the “base” trim. We toss our bags in and drive to our hotel—across the street. It’s hardly any time to assess the vehicle, but after five hours in a metal tube up in the sky, I can already tell the next week will be a treat.
One fitful sleep later, we’re back on the road towards Monterrey. My autojournalist instincts tell me to take a few minutes to familiarize myself with the new vehicle, but after daily driving a Land Rover Defender for the past year, this hardly feels necessary. Save for the lack of physical climate control switchgear, and more user-friendly seat controls mounted on the door, the Range Rover feels familiar. The infotainment is pretty sorted overall, so the two minutes it took me to pair my phone was longer than I needed to get acquainted with the cabin.
We cruised through a couple of side streets before hitting the 101 until 85, then headed almost due south through the mountains. The whole time the Range felt plush and serene, easing through the highways silently and pulling itself up the mountain passes without much fuss. Even on steep inclines, it hardly broke a sweat, effortlessly pulling over 2,700 kilos of metal, leather, and rubber. Dual-pane glass certainly helped keep the cabin drama-free.
Once we really got into the mountains, things started to get a lot more interesting. The roads narrowed, bent, and steepened. Rocks and forest enveloped us, pinching off the calamity of the highway and replacing it with the anxiety of not launching a brand-new Range Rover off a hairpin turn while trying to maintain California’s generous speed limits. Until now, the drive has been stress-free aside from the occasional over-ambitious lane change by a Model 3 or a Prius, but feeling out the steering and brakes on mountain roads with no guard rails makes my palms a tad sweaty. California’s mountain and canyon roads are notoriously relentless and technical; they don’t let up, and Range Rovers aren’t exactly known for spirited driving. But I’m set on making this work; luxury-tuned steering and suspension be damned, I’m going to canyon-carve with this behemoth.
After about an hour, what was initially a harrowing experience quickly settles into normality. The Range’s heft becomes unnoticeable, the softness in the steering rack negligible, and having never understood how Fahrenheit works I’m able to adjust the temperature without even looking at the screen anymore. I’m feeling it all out, but that’s fitting since we’re sort of feeling our day anyway, with no real direction aside from a hotel check-in and dinner reservations about 30 minutes north of the landslide that’s shut down the Pacific Coast Highway in both directions.
Given that we just missed Monterey Car Week, it was only fitting that we at least make our way through 17-Mile Drive. The Range feels right at home, winding through the golf course between the driveways of million-dollar houses, underneath the canopy of the oldest cypress trees in the world. Despite luxuriating in a brand-new Range Rover, this is the sort of place where unless you’re driving an F1 car through the club at 10,000 rpm, nobody pays you much notice. That’s perfectly fine by me; I’m just happy to float by quietly.
We pressed on towards Big Sur, a coastal stretch famous for dramatic cliffs and sweeping ocean views. We kept the windows down, music cranked, and took in the salt breeze while I danced through the corners with increasing confidence. Making the way down through Big Sur along the PCH is a quintessential road-trip experience best served with bursts of spirited driving followed by extended serenity. After McWay Falls, we pulled into the overlook parking lot, the Range Rover gliding effortlessly over the uneven gravel like it was designed for this sort of luxury-meets-nature moment. With the ocean mist in the air, we sat in the plush leather seats for a second, just taking in the view from the cockpit, before stepping out to admire the waterfall cascading down to the beach below. It’s the kind of view that makes you pause, but also feel lucky to have a vehicle ready to take you anywhere the road winds next.
We had dinner that evening at Sierra Mar, a restaurant perched on the cliffs. The Range Rover felt at home among the sleek, high-dollar cars scattered throughout the parking lot. Dusk had given way to full darkness, with the only thing between us and our hotel in Monterey was 60 miles of unlit coastal roads. The highway was pitch black save for the splash of our headlights illuminating the tight, twisting corners and the narrow strip of road hugging the cliffs. I’ll admit, this was probably the one and only time I wished for automatic high beams. Toggling them manually was annoying especially on the hairpins, where two hands on the wheel is a must and the last thing you’d want is blinding other drivers with glare. That this isn’t standard on the Range Rover is frustrating; it’s a simple software tweak, given that it’s already adorned with the sensors and hardware required to make them work. That said, the Range Rover’s headlights were crisp, bright, and made the drive less daunting than it could have been. We made it back in one piece, and not without a sense of triumph.
The next morning, we pointed the nose towards Sequoia. It was a longer haul—hours of highways stretching out before us—but the Range Rover makes easy work out of this kind of driving. The air suspension smoothed out every imperfection in the road, and between the ventilated seats and the adaptive cruise control, I could’ve driven for days. That 45-minute wait at the entrance to the park? No problem. We leaned back, kicked on the seat coolers, and crept through to the entrance gate—though part of me did wish for my Defender’s refrigerated centre console because my Gatorade had become lukewarm. First world problems, I know.
Sequoia gave us our first real opportunity to take the Range Rover off the beaten path. A narrow dirt trail just off the main road tempted us enough to lift the suspension and ease into it. It soaked up the bumps and ruts like it was still on smooth tarmac, making me realize how far SUVs have come since the days of needing a dedicated off-roader for these kinds of adventures. It handled it all like a champ, and in the brief moments off-road, I could see that this thing had way more potential than I was giving it credit for. We spent the rest of the day exploring Sequoia on foot, standing in awe beneath the towering redwoods including the iconic General Sherman. The Range’s interior became our sanctuary between hikes, offering much-needed respite from the heat and a safe place to stow our gear.
That night, we rolled into Three Rivers and stayed at a Comfort Inn. The sight of a big, dark green Range Rover in the parking lot of a roadside motel was a clash of worlds, looking hilariously out-of-place among the minivans and beat-up sedans. I couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe this is what the Brits had in mind after all—elegance, wherever you find yourself. The next morning, we dusted the ashes from a nearby forest fire off the Range and planned to set off for Yosemite, except we hit a snag: reservations were required to enter before 4 p.m. We had no choice but to kill time at the hotel. Frustrating? Yes. But let our misfortune be a lesson learned: always check the park’s website before flying across the continent. After a late lunch, unpacking our stuff at the hotel, and another 30-minute wait to get to the main gate, we finally entered.
The landscape shifts dramatically, descending into Yosemite Valley. Thick forests give way to open vistas, and the charred trees from previous fires stood like eerie sentinels against the backdrop of towering mountains. The Range Rover kept taking the elevation changes and switchbacks with ease; at this point, I felt like I’d mastered all the heft of the chassis. The turbocharged inline-six and its 395 horses were trotting along smoothly, pulling us up the steep passes without much fuss. The brakes kept us well within check for the descents, offering plenty of stopping power.
The valley itself was breathtaking. From El Capitan to Half Dome, we soaked it all up, though we soon realized we’d run out of time to start our hike before sunset. We resolved to return before dawn the next morning to not only catch the sunrise, but to also skip the reservation requirement by making it in before 5 a.m. The hour-long drive back to the hotel was in the pitch black again, and the next morning, we rose at an ungodly hour to make the drive in the pitch back—again. But just before dawn, we pulled off at an overlook above Tunnel View. The valley was calm as we watched the first rays of sunlight creep over the horizon. It was one of those moments that makes you realize why we put in all the effort, why we drove through the night. There was no one else around, and the serenity was worth the sleep deprivation.
Later that day, we wandered through the meadows under El Capitan, stood at the base of Bridal Veil Falls, and finally headed up to Glacier Point. If there was any place that truly showcased the Range Rover’s capabilities as a road-trip king, it was this. I wasn’t exhausted. I wasn’t sore. The seats cradled me through every switchback, and the soft steering feel definitely left my shoulders in much better shape than they would have been in something more sport-tuned.
The views from Glacier Point were so stunning that we decided to make the same drive the following morning, this time to catch sunrise. It was another pre-dawn trek, and though my co-pilot groaned a little, I knew the reward would be worth it. And it was—there, at 7,000 feet above sea level, we watched the valley come alive under the golden morning light. After our final Yosemite sunrise, we reluctantly headed back to civilization. The long drive back was peppered with reflections on the trip, and once we got back into San Francisco, we parked the Range at the hotel and rented some bikes to explore before our flight out the next day.
In the end, we’d logged just over 1,100 miles and the long-wheelbase Range Rover had handled it all without a hiccup. Whether it was climbing steep mountain passes, creeping through busy city streets, or crawling to the entry gate of an overcrowded national park, it proved itself as an ideal road-trip vehicle. Sure, it was a little much for two people, but having all that extra space for luggage—and especially our camera gear—proved useful at the scenic pullouts, and Belgravia Green looked good whether it was freshly washed, or covered in dust and bugs. If I had to nitpick, I’d say I missed having a bit more front storage for odds and ends. But hey, my copilot could’ve taken advantage of the two glove boxes instead of hogging the front cubby. I’d also pick a different set of wheels for it in a heartbeat—the standard ones fitted just don’t look classy enough for my taste.
As we got onto the shuttle bus, I gave the long-wheelbase 2024 Range Rover SE one last glance. It had surpassed my expectations in pretty much every way. It had carried us through the best of Northern California’s landscapes, with style, comfort, and a quiet confidence that’s hard to beat. For $180,700 as-tested, you would hope so, too.
