Pontiac Fiero on 2040-cars

Auto blog

Check out the official 2013 Trans Am Hurst Edition commercial

The Poncho is dead. Long live the Poncho. Like certain other reoccurring personal maladies, the aftermarket community simply can't let the Trans Am go without another flare up. The guys at Trans Am Depot have worked up a quick commercial for their newest creation: The 2013 Trans Am Hurst Edition, and it watches pretty much like you'd expect it to. The footage is comprised of just about every TA male fantasy you can conceive of, from Daisy Dukes and white tank tops to tramp stamps, bikinis and ice cream cones. There simply aren't words for what you'll see below.
Of course, we like our T-Tops as much as the next guy. If you like what you see in the videos, you can pick up your very own TA by heading over to the Trans Am Depot site. The guys even have Chevrolet Camaro-based versions of the Pontiac GTO if the '77 TA treatment is too much for your tastes. Enjoy, but don't say we didn't warn you.

Pontiac Aztek rises from the ashes of infamy in Firebird Trans Am guise

What if the Pontiac Aztek, one of the most widely ridiculed vehicles ever built, was reimagined with a little flair from one of the former brand’s more legendary cars? Well, it turns out that someone not only came up with that idea, but followed up on it. And so, we present to you the Pontiac Aztek Firebird Trans Am, uh, trim package? ItÂ’s not real, of course, but it comes from Abimelec Arellano, an Hermosillo, Mexico-based car designer with too much time on his hands who goes by the name Abimelec Design. Arellano redesigned the midsize SUVÂ’s wimpy front fascia to surprising success by simply adding widened fender flares and perhaps modernizing the headlights. He also went all-in embracing the AztekÂ’s abrupt, flattened rear end by removing the rear bumper lip, adding a slightly more aggressive rear spoiler to boot. This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. Elsewhere, the dominating and cheap-looking gray plastic under-cladding is gone in favor of body-color panels. Arellano also added some probably larger Pontiac Snowflake wheels with gold accents that really make them pop and play well against the signature Firebird decal dominating the hood. Commenters generally fall into one of two buckets. As one put it, “I never thought the Aztek could look this good.” Others implored Arellano to do a version with a T-top. Or as one Autoblog editor put it, “So it turns out the reason the Aztek was a laughingstock failure is that it didnÂ’t come in a Smokey and the Bandit Edition. Somewhere, a dude who got shouted down in a product-planning meeting years ago is vindicated.” Sold between 2001 and 2005, the Aztek arguably reached the pinnacle of its notoriety as the metaphor for the drab, underachieving life of Walter White in AMCÂ’s meth drama, “Breaking Bad.” It came equipped with a 3.4-liter V6 that made 185 horsepower and sent it through a four-speed automatic to the front wheels, with an all-wheel drive version also available. The Aztek may have the last laugh, especially if it gets a screaming chicken. “The fact it was a controversial design and didnÂ’t sell well will make it an object of curiosity from a historical standpoint many years from now,” McKeel Hagerty, president and CEO of classic-car insurer Hagerty Insurance, told Autoblog back in 2016.

This junkyard '91 Grand Am is as hooptie as it gets

I spend a lot of time in junkyards. A lot of time. With all this experience, I have learned to recognize a perfect hooptie when I see one, a car whose final owner got every last bit of use out of it when its value was hovering right about at scrap value. This 1991 Pontiac Grand Am that I spotted in a San Francisco Bay Area self-service wrecking yard a few days ago, from the final model year for the third-generation Grand Am, checks all the hooptie boxes just right. First of all, it's a low-option coupe with the wretched and unloved GM Iron Duke engine, a rattly, gnashy, thrashy 2.5-liter four-cylinder kludged together using off-the-shelf parts from the Pontiac 301-cubic-inch V8 during the darkest years of the Malaise Era and used in cars whose buyers just didn't care. Most of the paint has been burned off by 25 years of harsh California sun, but the car spent sufficient time in a damp, shady spot for lichens to build up here and there. There are skeletons-with-sombreros stencils sprayed here and there, plus a big moonshine-guzzling skeleton mural painted on the hood. Goodbye, property values! Still, someone felt some affection for this car, giving it the name "Good Ol' Snakey" and painting that name on the decklid. We can assume that the Iron Duke was a bit loose by this time, probably leaving a serpentine trail of blue smoke behind the car at all times. So, the combination of cheapness, ugliness, menace, and who-gives-a-damn functionality make this Grand Am an excellent example of a pure hooptie. Within a couple of months, it will be crushed, shredded, shipped out of the Port of Oakland, and reborn in China as refrigerators and Geely Emgrands. Somewhere in Northern California, though, a few of Ol' Smokey's friends will remember this car fondly.