2008 Mercury Mariner 89k Miles*leather*sunroof*clean Carfax*we Finance! on 2040-cars

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Is this '47 Chevrolet a rat rod or a sports car?

These days there are plenty of vehicles that blur the conventional automotive class structures. For instance, was the Honda Crosstour a wagon or an SUV? And what exactly was the Nissan Murano CrossCabriolet? Regardless, those line-blurring cars (or trucks) are out there, and though this one didn't roll off a production line, it's still quite the automotive head-scratcher. Hailing from Missouri, this epic creation is one part mad science experiment, one part 1947 Chevrolet pickup, and one part '95 Mercury Cougar. Add it all up and you get an awesome truck-sports-car hybrid, complete with an outrageous wing and a V8 to boot. And interestingly enough, it's up for sale . RELATED: Check out this Wild-Styled Lamborghini Rat Rod So how does it all come together? According to the listing, the Chevrolet truck cab (which had previously been chopped) was sanded down to bare metal and given a thorough shellacking of clear coat. It was then melded together with the front end of a 1995 Chevrolet S10 pickup truck, and set low to the ground on Bilstein suspension drop spindles. Stance achieved. But instead of fielding an engine from either of those pickups, it pulls its heart from a 2005 Chevrolet Tahoe SUV—a big 5.3-liter V8 heart, that is. It comes backed-up to a GM Turbo 400 automatic transmission. Towards the rear however is where things get really interesting. A Copper Pearl coated tube frame chassis both attaches the rear independent suspension (a la Mercury Cougar) to the racy spoiler, as well as secures the rat rod's rear-mounted radiator, fan, and fuel tank. I'm not quite sure why, but it just looks glorious. RELATED: Reports Say Mid-Engine Corvette Will Arrive in 2018 Inside the vintage cab, the Chevrolet furthers its racing proclivities (it's said to have won burnout and auto-cross events) with a pair of harnessed racing seats, a drift brake, a detachable steering wheel, and a tachometer with oil and temperature gauges, but oddly no speedometer. The shifter is a crescent wrench. And its shift boot? That's a Crown Royal Purple bag. All in all, this grin-worthy Frankenstein creation tallies up bits and pieces from four different vehicles (five if you include the Camaro wheels), which make it truly a mash-up of epic proportions. Internet, what do you think? Related Video: This article by Zach Doell originally appeared on Boldride. Design/Style Chevrolet Mercury Auctions Coupe Special and Limited Editions Classics eBay rat rod

Junkyard Gem: 1993 Mercury Topaz GS Sedan

As long as the Mercury brand existed — a period spanning the 1939 through 2011 model years — nearly every Mercury sold in the United States was more or less a redecorated Ford model. The Torino had its Montego sibling, the Crown Victoria had the Grand Marquis, the Cougar was based on everything from the Mustang to the Mondeo, and so on. Naturally, when the folks in Dearborn developed the Ford Tempo compact, a Mercury version had to be created. This was the Topaz, with the official launch of both cars taking place on the deck of the aircraft carrier often referred to as the USS Decrepit. You can't make this stuff up! The Tempo/Topaz, also known as the Tempaz, has largely faded from our collective automotive memory by now, since it broke no significant new engineering or styling ground (this story would be much different if Ford had only put the amazing straight-eight "T-Drive" Tempaz powertrain into production) and didn't have any endearing features other than being a cheap domestic competitor to the Toyota Corolla and Nissan Sentra. Still, close to 3 million Tempazes left North American Ford and Lincoln-Mercury showrooms during the 1984-1994 period. As you'd expect, most of these disposable cars disappeared from both the street and the car graveyard long ago. It takes a very special Tempaz for me to break out my camera while I'm patrolling my local wrecking yards; generally, this means an ultra-rare all-wheel-drive version or at least a very early model in super-clean condition. Today's Junkyard Gem is neither, but I took one look at this spectacular Bordello Red crypto-velour-and-slippery-plastic interior and recognized that this was no ordinary junkyard Mercury. It appears that Mercury had dropped the idea of clever names for base-grade seat fabrics by the time of the Topaz, referring to this stuff as just "cloth" in all the brochures I could find. That's too bad, because Mercurys had cool names for upholstery (e.g., Chromatex) in the old days. The interior is in very good condition but the steering wheel shows substantial wear, so I think this is a high-mile Topaz that got meticulous care from its owner or owners. Ford used five-digit odometers on these cars until the end of production, however, so we'll never know if this reading indicates 65,404 miles or 365,404 miles. The body is very straight, but there's some nasty corrosion behind the right front wheelwell.

Car Stories: Owning the SHO station wagon that could've been

A little over a year ago, I bought what could be the most interesting car I will ever own. It was a 1987 Mercury Sable LS station wagon. Don't worry – there's much more to this story. I've always had a soft spot for wagons, and I still remember just how revolutionary the Ford Taurus and Mercury Sable were back in the mid-1980s. As a teenager, I fell especially hard for the 220-horsepower 1989 Ford Taurus SHO – so much so that I'd go on to own a dozen over the next 20 years. And like many other quirky enthusiasts, I always wondered what a SHO station wagon would be like. That changed last year when I bought the aforementioned Sable LS wagon, festooned with the high-revving DOHC 3.0-liter V6 engine and five-speed manual transmission from a 1989 Taurus SHO. In addition, the wagon had SHO front seats, a SHO center console, and the 140-mph instrument cluster with mileage that matched the engine. When I bought it, that number was just under 60,000 – barely broken in for the overachieving Yamaha-sourced mill. The engine and transmission weren't the only upgrades. It wore dual-piston PBR brakes with the choice Eibach/Tokico suspension combo in front. The rear featured SHO disc brakes with MOOG cargo coils and Tokico shocks, resulting in a wagon that handled ridiculously well while still retaining a decent level of comfort and five-door functionality. I could attack the local switchbacks while rowing gears to a 7,000-rpm soundtrack just as easily as loading up on lumber at the hardware store. Over time I added a front tower brace to stiffen things a bit as well as a bigger, 73-mm mass airflow sensor for better breathing, and I sourced some inexpensive 2004 Taurus 16-inch five-spoke wheels, refinished in gunmetal to match the two-tone white/gunmetal finish on the car. That, along with some minor paint and body work, had me winning trophies at every car show in town. And yet, what I loved most about the car wasn't its looks or performance, but rather its history. And here's where things also get a little philosophical, because I absolutely, positively love old used cars. Don't get me wrong – new cars are great. Designers can sculpt a timeless automotive shape, and engineers can construct systems and subsystems to create an exquisite chassis with superb handling and plenty of horsepower. But it's the age and mileage that turn machines into something more than the sum of their parts.