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Junkyard Gem: 1987 Audi 5000

The third-generation Audi 100 introduced for the 1983 model year was sold as the Audi 5000 in the United States. Sales of this high-end German sedan went pretty well ... until 60 Minutes ran a piece called "Out of Control" in late 1986, convincing many viewers that the 5000 was murderously defective. Yes, it was the original Unintended Acceleration debacle, decades before the one that cost Toyota big yen, and it slaughtered American Audi sales. Today's Junkyard Gem had the misfortune to be sitting in an Audi showroom while the echoes of the argle-bargle over the 5000 controversy still reverberated, its price dropping while potential buyers headed into the arms of nearby Mercedes-Benz and BMW dealers. Still, someone bought this car, which would have been a great Colorado winter machine with its 5-speed and Quattro all-wheel-drive system, and it ended up racking up more miles than 98 percent of cars sold in 1987. The presence of an ignition key in a junkyard car usually indicates that it was a trade-in or insurance total. A high-mile, 29-year-old Audi isn't worth much at auction, so this one ended up here. All the automatic-equipped 5000s got scary warning stickers on the shifters, among other recall-mandated changes, and Audi ended up using the European-market 100 name on these cars starting in the 1989 model year . Related Video: Featured Gallery Junked 1987 Audi 5000 Quattro View 18 Photos Auto News Audi unintended acceleration

Audi RS Q3 is funky, chunky, spunky forbidden fruit [w/videos]

After salivating over the Audi RS6 Avant last night, we're happy to see yet another RS-branded Audi here on the show floor at the Geneva Motor Show. Meet the RS Q3, Audi's first ever high-performance crossover, showing what's possible when the Ingolstadt automaker brings its best sporting bits to its smallest CUV.
Powering the RS Q3 is Audi's 2.5-liter turbocharged five-cylinder engine - the same one found in sweetie-darlings like the TT RS and RS3. Output is rated at 310 horsepower and 309 pound-feet of torque, sent to all four wheels via the automaker's seven-speed S-tronic dual-clutch transmission. Weighing in at just over 3,800 pounds, the RS Q3 is indeed a porky little pig, but no matter - that forced-induction fire will propel the small crossover to 62 miles per hour in five and a half seconds. And that's with launch control, too.
The RS Q3 certainly looks the part of a proper sporty Audi, with exaggerated air vents and bulgy, aggressive bits all around. Honestly, we like the way the RS package has translated to the Q3 form - this design really works well on the smaller CUV package. Inside, performance-minded fittings like a flat-bottomed steering wheel, upgraded gauges and sport seats bring the whole RS pack full circle. We'll admit, we're definitely intrigued by this little guy.

2014 Audi RS7 [w/video]

The subject of what makes up a true "supercar" is a difficult one, fraught with personal connotations and the rare ability to bring close colleagues into heated confrontation with one another in the blink of an eye. I say this because, while the 2014 Audi RS7 most certainly does not make the supercar cut on a few levels to my way of thinking - not rare enough, expensive enough or wearing an appropriately evocative body - it is unquestionably an "everyday supercar" of remarkable ability. And, pertinently, it is one that proved willing to ply its trade in every version of winter that Michigan had to offer it.
I had winter four ways during my week-long loan with the RS7. A period of crisp temperatures and dry roads, presided over by light blue skies as wide as the horizon, soon gave way to spitting, freezing rain blanketed in slightly misleading warmer air. Then there was snow. Not the massive blanket we saw in the first week of the New Year, but more than enough to see my neighbors stocking up on Ice Melt and replacing their shovels for the season. Finally, temperatures dropped to the mid teens, cottony snow compressed into a hard pack and all residual moisture on the mostly cleared roads morphed into the very slickest of ice. Timeless curses were uttered by cranky commuters in smoking breaths. Pure Michigan.