1969 Chevelle Ss396 4 Speed Convertible on 2040-cars

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Steve McQueen's last movie car, now Pawn Stars-owned, up for auction [w/video]

The last car Steve McQueen ever drove in a movie is officially up for auction. The 1951 Chevrolet Styline DeLuxe Convertible you see above is now owned by none other than Rick Harrison of Pawn Stars fame, but once ferried McQueen around the set of his last film, 1980's The Hunter. That flick saw the Bullit star play a bumbling bounty hunter and didn't exactly set the box office on fire. McQueen bought the car after production wrapped, and four years later it sold at his estate sale at the Imperial Palace in Las Vegas.
Flash forward to 2003, and the convertible received a full restoration back to near-stock specifications. Hagerty Insurance estimates the car to be worth around $45,000 without the significant providence. Given its ties to one of film's most popular gearheads, the old Chevrolet could fetch up to 10 times that when it goes under the gavel in Ft Luaderdale, Florida on March 22. You can head over to the Auctions America site for more information. You can also check out the trailer for The Hunter below.

Junkyard Gem: 1987 Chevrolet Turbo Sprint

Fifteen years ago, I wrote my first-ever automotive article under the name Murilee Martin, and it didn't take me long to start writing about one of my favorite automotive subjects: the junkyard. Before I'd refined my system for documenting discarded vehicles, however, I shot a lot of boneyard photos that never got used. For today's Junkyard Gem, I have four shots from early 2007 of one of the rarest turbocharged machines of the 1980s: the Chevrolet Turbo Sprint. The Chevrolet Sprint was really a rebadged Suzuki Cultus, from the pre-Geo era when General Motors sold the Isuzu Gemini as the Chevrolet Spectrum, the Daewoo LeMans as the Pontiac LeMans and the Toyota Corolla as the Chevrolet Nova (soon enough, the Spectrum became a Geo, and the Nova became the Prizm). The second-generation Cultus appeared in 1988, becoming the Geo Metro on our shores the following year. The Turbo Sprint was available for just the last two years of the Sprint's 1985-1988 American sales run, and it appears that just a couple of thousand were sold; if I'd known at the time just how rare they were, I'd have shot more photos of this one at the now-defunct Hayward Pick Your Part. The turbocharged 993cc three-cylinder produced 70 horsepower, 22 better than the naturally-aspirated version. Since the Turbo Sprint weighed just 1,620 pounds (that's about 500 pounds lighter than a barely more powerful '22 Mitsusbishi Mirage), it was plenty of fun to drive. For 1988, the regular Sprint hatchback cost $6,380 while the Turbo Sprint listed at $8,240 (that's about $15,375 and $19,855 today, respectively). Believe it or not, a Turbo Sprint actually raced in the 24 Hours of Lemons 10 years ago, though it didn't end well. This ad is for the regular Cultus, not the Cultus Turbo, but the screaming guitars sound reasonably turbocharged. For the most part, Chevy Sprint marketing was all about cheap purchase price and stingy fuel economy… at a time when gasoline prices were cratering. Related Video:

Artist imagines eerie world where cars have no wheels

The wheel ranks right up there with the telescope and four-slice toaster in the pantheon of inventions that have moved humankind forward. But what if a circle in three dimensions had never occurred to anyone, and we all had just moved on without it? Perhaps we'd be driving around in Lucas Motors Landspeeders with anti-gravity engines. Or maybe we'd have the same cars we do today, just without wheels.
That's the thought experiment that seems to have led French photographer Renaud Marion to create his six-image series called Air Drive. The shots depict cars throughout many eras of motoring that look normal except for one thing: they have no wheels. The models used include a Jaguar XK120, Cadillac DeVille (shown above), Chevrolet El Camino and Camaro, and Mercedes-Benz SL and 300 roadsters.
Perhaps one day when our future becomes our past, you'll be able to walk the street and see with your own eyes the rust and patina of age on our nation's fleet of floating cars. Until then, Monsieur Marion's photographs will have to do.