1991 Pontiac Trans Am Gta Rare T-top Coupe And Only 30 K Original Miles on 2040-cars

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Junkyard Gem: 1992 Pontiac Firebird

Last spring, this series featured a 1992 Chevrolet Camaro RS in a Northern California junkyard, an example of the final model year for the highly successful third-generation GM F-Body. On a later visit to that yard, I spotted the Pontiac sibling to that car, a Firebird that was born the same year at the same Southern California factory. When the Chevrolet Division introduced the first Camaro as a 1967 model, the Pontiac Division got its own version of the F-Body called the Firebird. While the two cars were built on the same chassis and looked very similar, the first-generation Camaros got Chevrolet engines while their Firebird colleagues got Pontiac engines (including the innovative SOHC straight-six). The 1970-1981 second-generation Firebirds still had some Pontiac-only engines, but Chevrolet and Oldsmobile power crept under some hoods during that period. The third-generation Firebirds first appeared as 1982 models, and they drew from near-identical stockpiles of GM running gear (including the distinctly agricultural Iron Duke four-banger, which could be considered a Pontiac-derived engine). When the Camaro got the axe after 2002, the Firebird's neck was put on the same chopping block. When the Camaro returned for 2010, the Pontiac brand was sputtering to an agonized halt during its final year and there was no chance of the Firebird's return. This car is a fairly ordinary coupe, though it does have the mid-grade 205-horsepower 5.0-liter Chevrolet small-block V8 instead of the base 140-horse 3.1-liter V6. A 5.7-liter small-block was available as well. A five-speed manual transmission was base equipment, but few Americans wanted a three-pedal setup by the early 1990s. This car has the optional four-speed automatic. The MSRP with 5.0 engine, automatic transmission and air conditioning (which this car has) started at $14,304. That's about $31,868 in 2023 dollars. It was built at Van Nuys Assembly in the San Fernando Valley of Los Angeles County. By the dawn of the 1990s, the Camaros and Firebirds made at Van Nuys Assembly had become known as the worst-built GM cars made in North America, and the plant was shut down forever soon after this car was built. Today, a shopping mall lives where the factory once stood. This car managed to drive more than 150,000 miles during its life, so it beat the odds. The thrid-gen F-Body was pretty antiquated by the early 1990s, but the fourth-gen cars handled better and looked up-to-date for the era.

Junkyard Gem: 1986 Pontiac Fiero 2M4

The mid-engined, plastic-bodied Pontiac Fiero two-seater caused great excitement when it hit the streets as a 1984 model, then became something of an embarrassment for GM when its design flaws became clear to the car-buying public. Still, when a V6 engine became available for 1985, followed by a fastback roof for 1986, the air of Pontiac Excitement around the Fiero lingered to a certain extent. We took a look at a discarded '86 Fiero GT with both the 2.8-liter V6 and the fastback body last year, and now we'll take a look at an example of the econo-commuter four-cylinder notchback version from the same year. Pontiac used the 2M4 designation (standing for two seats, mid-engine, four cylinders) on four-cylinder Fieros, while the six-cylinder cars were known as 2M6s. 2M4 decals went on four-banger Fieros for the 1984-1986 model years, while 2M6 decals seem to have been applied less consistently to the V6 cars of that period. During the early development period of the car that became the Fiero, the idea was that it would be a nimble sports car with a lightweight engine. Then the plan shifted, with the Fiero intended to be a gas-sipping commuter. When the car finally hit showrooms, it was a lot heavier than intended, it had a Chevy Citation front suspension in the back plus a Chevette front suspension, and its engine was the low-revving, weighty Iron Duke 2.5-liter straight-four. The Duke was about the least sports-car-appropriate four-cylinder engine The General could dredge up from his parts bins, but it was cheap and there was no shortage of production capacity. By the time the Fiero came out, the Iron Duke had been renamed the Tech 4. This one was rated at 92 horsepower and 132 pound-feet. The V6 Fieros get all the press today, but plenty of the Duked versions were sold (amazingly, the Chevrolet Camaro was available with Iron Duke power from 1982 through 1986). The emissions sticker tells us that this was a California-market car, rather than the "49-state" model the rest of the country got. California-specific emissions hardware added $99 to this car's price ($277 in 2023 dollars). While this car is a base model, the original buyer loaded it with options. The transmission is a three-speed automatic, priced at $465 (about $1,303 in 2023 dollars). A five-speed manual was standard equipment on the 1986 Fiero, though the old-fashioned four-speed manual was still available for a $50 credit ($140 now).

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.