1967 Pontiac Grand Prix Convertable 6.6l 400 Ci With A Four Barrell Carburator on 2040-cars

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Junkyard Gem: 1992 Pontiac Sunbird convertible, with extremely rad W25 Appearance Package

Radwood has sparked a revival in the appreciation of goofy 1980s and 1980s automotive fashions, from neon-colored tape stripes to excessive TURBO badging to ads featuring horrifying Nagel-style women with radio faceplates instead of eyes. I see a lot of discarded cars that would have been ideal to bring to Radwood, and today's Junkyard Gem is even radder than, say, a purple Mercury Tracer Trio or a teal Chevy Beretta GT or even the elusive Dodge Daytona IROC R/T (yes, there were IROC Daytonas): a genuine Pontiac Sunbird SE convertible with the W25 Appearance Package and Bright White Star wheels. The W25 package got you a white Sunbird with kicky script badging, white wheels, and — if you opted for the optional 3.1-liter V6 — these candy-cane-influenced red-and-white displacement badges on the fenders. Now this is rad! The white interior got dirty fast, especially if the owner left the convertible top down, and these wheels were tough to keep clean for more than a few hours. This one appears to have spent many years sitting abandoned with the top down, judging by the completely trashed interior. The base engine for 1992 was the good old Cavalier four-banger, complete with 111 horsepower. This 3.1-liter engine made a respectable-for-1992 140 horses, for plenty of torque-steery, tire-squealy fun. As a J-Body car, the Sunbird was a sibling to the Chevrolet Cavalier in 1992 (the J-based Cadillac Cimarron, Oldsmobile Firenza, and Buick Skyhawk departed before the end of the 1980s). Starting in 1994, the Pontiac Sunfire replaced the Sunbird, continuing in production all the way through the demise of the J platform in 2005. This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. Where (in Canada) would you test-drive your Sunbird? Related Video: This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings.

Junkyard Gem: 1980 Pontiac Grand Prix LJ

A couple of years before John DeLorean and his team at the Pontiac Division created the GTO by pasting a big engine and some gingerbread on the LeMans, they created a rakish, powerful coupe based on the staid full-size Catalina. This was the 1962 Pontiac Grand Prix, which sold like crazy and escalated the personal luxury coupe war already brewing in Detroit. Starting with the 1969 model year, the Grand Prix switched to a smaller chassis (shared the following year with the new Chevrolet Monte Carlo), and all subsequent rear-wheel-drive Grand Prix (that is, through 1987) remained siblings of the Monte. Today's Junkyard Gem is a rare 1980 Grand Prix LJ, found in a self-service yard near Reno, Nevada. Sure, a fresh round of Middle East conflict had put a kink in America's fuel hose in 1979, leading to gas lines and a general sense of malaise, but at least the new Grand Prix looked extra sharp for 1980. The LJ package came with all sorts of appearance and comfort goodies, including these "luxury seats with loose-pillow design in New Florentine Cloth." A Pontiac Phoenix LJ was available as well. These seats must have been very comfortable when new. Who needed a Cadillac when Pontiac would sell you this car at a base MSRP of just $7,000 (about $26,704 in 2023 dollars)? That price was what you paid if you were willing to get the base 3.8-liter Buick V6, though. To get a V8 engine with four-barrel carburetor, you had to pay extra. If you did pay the extra for a V8, which one you got depended on which state you lived in; in California, you got this 305-cubic-inch (5.0-liter Chevrolet small-block), and in the other 49 states you got a 301-cubic-inch (4.9-liter) Pontiac. The 305 was rated at 150 horsepower with 230 pound-feet; the 301 made 140hp and 240 lb-ft. This car was originally bought in California (the state line is about ten miles away from its final parking spot), so it has the Chevy engine. The V8 added $195 (plus $250 for the California-only emissions system) to the out-the-door price of the car, or about $1,316 in 2023 dollars. Outside of California, a 4.3-liter Chevy V6 was available for just 80 additional bucks ($305 now). All 1980 Grand Prix got a three-speed automatic transmission as standard equipment, with no manual available from the factory. This car has the optional air conditioning, which cost $601 ($2,293 after inflation). This is the "Custom Sport" steering wheel, which was standard on the LJ. The tilt option cost $81 ($309 today).

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.