Ford Fairlain 500 1967 on 2040-cars

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Project Ugly Horse: Part IX

One Step at a Time
Nearly every flavor of exotic driveline has been shoved into the ubiquitous Ford at some point or another.
Chuck Schwynoch had been patiently listening to my ramblings on the other end of the phone for a solid half hour. I'm not too big of a man to know when to ask for help, and at this point, I desperately needed some assistance. The truth is, working on a machine like a Fox Body Mustang is as easy as breathing thanks to the wealth of information available on the web. Nearly every flavor of exotic driveline has been shoved into the ubiquitous Ford at some point or another, and odds are the sorry souls behind those builds shared the highs and lows of their torment with the internet community.

Junkyard Gem: 1991 Mercury Grand Marquis LS

Ford's now-defunct Mercury Division first began using the Marquis name in 1967, on a sporty full-size hardtop based on the Ford LTD, then began offering the Grand Marquis beginning in the 1979 model year. These big, boxy luxury sedans were replaced by big, curvy luxury sedans (on the same platform) starting with the 1992 model year, so today's Junkyard Gem is one of the very last squared-off Grand Marquises ever built. The 1991 Grand Marquis (or "Grandma Keith," as many refer to it today) looks nearly identical to its 1979 predecessor at a glance, just as the 2011 model doesn't differ much from the 1992 model. Ford saw no reason to follow short-lived fashion trends with its simple, sturdy rear-wheel-drive sedan. Only two Grand Marquis trim levels were available for 1991: the base GS and the (somewhat) upscale LS. The former listed at $18,741 and the latter at $19,241, which comes to about $41,494 and $42,601, respectively, in inflated 2022 dollars). This interior would have seemed comfortingly familiar to a 1968 (or even 1958) Mercury owner time-traveling to 1991.  This is the optional "full grain leather seating surface," which cost an extra $489 (about $1,083 today). Dig those opera lights! Air conditioning was standard equipment in the 1991 Grand Marquis and its wagon counterpart, the Colony Park. The engine is the good old pushrod 5.0-liter Windsor V8, which would be replaced by a far more modern 4.6-liter SOHC mill in the '92 Grand Marquis. This engine was rated at 180 horsepower. A four-speed automatic was the only transmission available. The early 1990s ended up being the last gasp for padded vinyl roofs being considered mainstream equipment on new Detroit cars; this one was called the "Formal Coach" roof and cost an additional 725 bucks ($1,605 now). Such roofs were still available on a few cars later in the decade, but their time had passed. Why would such a clean Grandma Keith end up in a place like this? That's easy: it got T-boned directly into the right front wheel, mangling the body and bending up the suspension. This damage might have been worth fixing when the car was five years old, but it's a write-off when it happens to a 31-year-old Ford Panther. 1991 Mercury Grand Marquis Commercial - Savings Ad The granddaddy of them all, and on sale in South Texas! Related video: 2008 Mercury Mariner Hybrid test drive Autoblog

2015 Ford Transit

As a segment, fullsize vans are stealth-fighter invisible on most consumers' radar. Visit a dealership for any of the four brands that offer them and you'll be lucky to find even one on display. These are commercial vehicles primarily, even more so than pickup trucks. Vans are the shuttles for plumbers, caterers, carpenters, concrete layers, masons, electricians, florists and flooring, and a huge part of this country's productivity is accomplished using them. At the moment, Ford is the 800-pound gorilla in that room - fully 41 percent of commercial vehicles wear a Blue Oval. So when Ford announced three years ago it would be ditching its commercial bread-and-butter E-Series, it meant the Transit that would be replacing the Econoline had huge, 53-year-old shoes to fill.
We were still a bit nostalgic about Econoline vans going away until going directly from the Transit first drive in Kansas City to an E-350 airport shuttle. Climb up through the Econoline's tiny double doors and bang your head on the opening, crouch all the way to your seat then enjoy a loud, rattle-prone, creaky, harsh ride on beam-hard seats while struggling to see out the low windows. This is an experience nearly every traveler has had. By comparison, the Transits we'd just spent two days with were every bit of the four decades better they needed to be. It cannot be understated just how much better the Transit is in every single way. The load floor is barely more than knee high. There's a huge side door, and hitting your head on a door opening is nearly impossible. Stand up all the way if you're under six-foot, six-inches - no more half-hunching down the aisle. There are windows actually designed to be looked out of. The ride is buttery smooth, no booming vibration from un-restrained metal panels and no squeaks. Conversations can be held at normal levels rather than yelling over the roar of an ancient V8. The seats are comfortable. The AC is cold. There are cupholders.
Enough anecdote-laying, what's in a Transit? We're talking about a very fullsized unibody van that's enjoyed a 49-year history in Ye Olde Europe. This latest iteration is part of the "One Ford" initiative, so it was designed as a global offering from the get-go, eschewing the body-on-frame construction the E-Series has used since 1975. Instead, the Transit integrates a rigid ladder frame into an overall frame construction made of high-strength cold-rolled and boron steel. The suspension is a simple but well-tuned Macpherson strut array up front with a rear solid axle and leaf springs.