1997 Pontiac Firebird Formula Convertible 2-door 5.7l on 2040-cars

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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.

This or That: 2005 Chrysler Crossfire SRT6 vs. 1984 Pontiac Fiero

Welcome to another round of This or That, where two Autoblog editors pick a topic, pick a side and pull no punches. Last round pitted yours truly against Associate Editor Brandon Turkus, and my chosen VW Vanagon Syncro narrowly defeated Brandon's 1987 Land Rover. In fact, it was, by far, the closest round we've seen, with 1,907 voters seeing things my way (for 50.8 percent of the vote) versus 1,848 votes for Brandon's Rover (49.2 percent). Sweet, sweet victory! For this latest round of This or That, I've roped Editor Greg Migliore into what I think is a rather fun debate. We've each chosen our favorite terrible cars, setting a price limit of $10,000 to make sure neither of us went too crazy with our automotive atrocities. I think we've both chosen terribly... and I mean that in the best way possible. 2005 Chrysler Crossfire SRT6 Jeremy Korzeniewski: Why It's Terrible: Taken in isolation, the Chrysler Crossfire isn't necessarily a terrible car. In fact, it drives pretty darn well, and there's a lot of solid engineering under its slinky shape. Problem is, that engineering was already rather long in the tooth well before Chrysler ever got its hands on it, having come from Mercedes-Benz, which used the basic chassis and drivetrain in a previous version of its SLK coupe and roadster. Granted, the SLK was an okay car, too, but even when new, it hardly set the world on fire with sporty driving dynamics. Chrysler took these decent-but-no-more bits and pieces from the Mercedes parts bin – remember, this car was conceived in the disastrous Merger Of Equals days – and covered them with a rather attractive hard-candy shell. Unfortunately, the super sporty shape wrote checks in the minds of buyers that its well-worn mechanicals were simply unable to cash, though an injection of power courtesy of a supercharged V6 engine in the SRT6 model, as seen here, certainly helped ease some of those woes. In the end, Chrysler was left with a so-called halo car that looked the part but never quite performed the part. It was almost universally panned by critics as an overpriced parts-bin special, which, I must add, was damningly accurate. As a result, sales were very slow, and within the first few months, dealers were clearancing the car at cut-rate prices, just to keep them from taking up too much of the showroom floor. Why It's Not That Terrible, After All: I can speak from personal experience when discussing the Chrysler Crossfire. You see, I owned one. Well, sort of...

The last Pontiac Fiero sold for $90,000 at auction

On August 16, 1988 the last Pontiac Fiero, a red GT model, rolled off the assembly line at GM's Pontiac Assembly plant located in Pontiac, Michigan. It wasn't just the final Fiero, but the final car to be built at that site. The car was raffled off to one of 1,400 plant employees that would soon have to find jobs elsewhere. Whoever that employee was, they remained faithful to the Fiero and kept it in mint condition for 32 years. Last month, it was finally time to move on. It crossed the block at GAA Auctions in Greensboro, North Carolina where it sold for an astounding $90,000. According to the auction house, that's a new world record. The price no doubt reflected the car's place in history as the last example of GM's 1980s mid-engined sports car. However, it was also showroom-new, with just 582 miles clocked on its 2.8-liter V6. 1988 models were also fitted with an upgraded, Lotus-esque suspension produced for just that one year. In addition, this car, serial number 226402, came with its original build sheet, photos from the assembly line, and a collection of news articles and books. It still wore its pre-delivery plastic on the interior and was fully loaded with automatic transmission. This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. The car's custodian for the past 32 years must be pleased. Bidding started at $25,000 but soon rocketed past the $65,000 reserve. You can see the action starting at the 2:50:13 mark in the video above. The Fiero was symbolic of the 1980s and stood out from the standard GM passenger car fare for its mid-engine layout and plastic body panels. In an era when GM often rebadged cars with minimal differences, the Fiero rode on its own unique chassis. It was positioned as one of the defining products for Pontiac, GM's "excitement" brand, but actual performance never quite lived up to its striking looks.  Nevertheless, it garnered a cult following. It's often the basis for (questionable) custom builds mimicking more exotic models like Ferraris and Lamborghinis, thanks to a steel space-frame design that allows body panels to be easily removed. Thankfully, this significant example escaped such a fate and will live on as a reminder of an interesting chapter of automotive history.