2005 Pontiac Gto Base Coupe 2-door 6.0l Only 5,700 Miles Like New! on 2040-cars

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Sell Your Own: 2006 Pontiac GTO

This is part of an occasional look at cars for sale in Autoblog's classifieds. Want to sell your car? We make it easy and free. Quickly create listings with up to six photos and reach millions of buyers. Log in and create your free listings. In the early '60s, Baby Boomers born immediately after World War II were beginning to buy cars and enjoy their own distinctive music. This wasn't yet the drug culture; rather, it was the drag culture, more Jan and Dean "Dead Man's Curve" than Beatles "Lucy In The Sky." And a Baby Boomer's desired ride, more often than not, was Pontiac's GTO. Introduced as a manned-up option for Pontiac's compact Tempest, the early GTO was 389 cubic inches of romp and stomp. And with a marketing campaign that hit Middle America via what it watched and ate (TV ads and cereal-box promos were a big part of the GTO launch), there was no escaping it. Like most performance coupes and convertibles, 10 years later it was became an emasculated version of its once lusty self. And then it was gone. Its revival, championed by General Motors executive Bob Lutz, was not by any stretch the Second Coming. Starting in 2004, GM modified its Australian-built Holden Monaro to approximate the excitement of the original formula: a coupe body propelled by a big V8. But the Holden's sheetmetal was quietly styled, and even the 400 horsepower available by 2006 didn't electrify buyers. With hindsight, the resurrected GTO is enjoying more attention and, slowly but surely, increasing in value. This for-sale example shows well, enjoys low mileage, and is – naturally – priced well above what is perceived to be its market value. Related Video: This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings.

This 1988 Pontiac Grand Prix Daytona 500 pace car could be yours

Hopefully, the fans of GM's W-body '80s/'90s intermediates can forgive us, but we had pretty much forgotten — or had never really known — that one of the ways that era's Pontiac Grand Prix bathed itself in glory was by serving as the pace car for the Daytona 500. In fact, the Grand Prix paced NASCAR's marquee race every year from 1988 to 1992, and again in 1997, 1998, 2000 and 2003. That first year, 1988, the Grand Prix was all-new, making its debut on the W-body platform. It was also Motor Trend's car of the year. The 1988 Daytona 500 marked the 17th year in a row that a Pontiac was chosen to set the pace but the first time a front-wheel-drive car was so honored. The '88 Grand Prix followed a spate of Pontiac Trans Ams. This '88 Grand Prix, for sale right now on eBay Motors, is presented as an actual pace car, although fans could order a complete set of pace car decals for their very own GP. The pace car is based on that year's top-spec Grand Prix, the SE. In place of the standard car's 2.8-liter V6, however, the pace car uses a modified 3.1-liter V6, which is hooked to a five-speed manual transmission. This Grand Prix is otherwise largely standard fare excepting the roof-mounted light bar, the switches for which are located next to the radio. The mechanical odometer tucked into the digital instrument cluster shows just over 5,000 miles, and presumably, not all of them were acquired on the high-banked oval. With four days to go in the auction, bidding sits at $4,000 with the reserve unmet. Although the reserve is unknown, one clue is that this Grand Prix had been listed by a classic-car dealership in Pennsylvania for $18,500. Besides the debut of the W-body Grand Prix pace car, the 1988 race is also notable for its final lap: Bobby Allison held off his son, Davey Allison, to take the checkered flag, with the father-son duo enjoying a 1-2 finish. Now, who wants to re-live those Grand Prix glory days? Get on your Pontiac and ride!   This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings.

German prosecutors have recorded calls between VW bigwigs talking dieselgate

It's barely possible to believe how poorly Volkswagen continues to handle dieselgate. Depending on which day you catch the news, the German carmaker embodies the corporate venality of "Michael Clayton," the comic blundering of the Coen Brothers' "Burn After Reading," and the every-man-for-himself vengeance of "Reservoir Dogs." Today is Tarantino day, with news that German prosecutors have recordings of phone calls between former Audi and Porsche development boss Wolfgang Hatz, ex-Volkswagen Group executive Matthias Muller, and current Porsche executives Oliver Blume and Michael Steiner. Hatz made the calls to the trio in November 2015, two months after Volkswagen admitted its diesel-particulate sins to the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency. Hatz was still employed at the time, and in his company car. Who recorded the calls? His wife. Hatz and his missus apparently saw the storm coming and started stacking defenses early. Hatz's wife, who can be heard encouraging Hatz during at least one call, sent the recordings to Hatz's attorney from her mobile phone. According to a Google translation of the German newspaper Handelsblatt's report, she included the note, "Here is a very long, but quite informative conversation on the current situation with useful formulations." The report in Handelsblatt said that in Germany it is generally "not allowed" to record a conversation and pass it on to a third party. We don't know how the authorities will handle this matter, since prosecutors found the recordings in e-mail attachments on Mrs. Hatz's mobile phone. Remember, when the diesel scandal broke, VW spent months saying that only a small number of low-level personnel were behind it, and all of the higher-ups had been blindsided. Ex-CEO Martin Winterkorn claimed to be "stunned that misconduct on such a scale was possible in the Volkswagen Group." Winterkorn successor Matthias Muller said, "according to current information, a few developers interfered in the engine management." Former VW USA honcho Michael Horn told a congressional committee that "a couple of software engineers" programmed the software for reasons no one could understand. In the recorded conversations, Hatz apparently called Muller to find out how VW planned to treat him.