1969 Pontiac Lemans Base 5.7l on 2040-cars

Auto blog

Are orphan cars better deals?

Most folks don't know a Saturn Aura from an Oldsmobile Aurora. Those of you who are immersed in the labyrinth of automobilia know that both cars were testaments to the mediocrity that was pre-bankruptcy General Motors, and that both brands are now long gone. But everybody else? Not so much. By the same token, there are some excellent cars and trucks that don't raise an eyebrow simply because they were sold under brands that are no longer being marketed. Orphan brands no longer get any marketing love, and because of that they can be alarmingly cheap. Case in point, take a look at how a 2010 Saturn Outlook compares with its siblings, the GMC Acadia and Buick Enclave. According to the Manheim Market Report, the Saturn will sell at a wholesale auto auction for around $3,500 less than the comparably equipped Buick or GMC. Part of the reason for this price gap is that most large independent dealerships, such as Carmax, make it a point to avoid buying cars with orphaned badges. Right now if you go to Carmax's site, you'll find that there are more models from Toyota's Scion sub-brand than Mercury, Saab, Pontiac, Hummer, and Saturn combined. This despite the fact that these brands collectively sold in the millions over the last ten years while Scion has rarely been able to realize a six-figure annual sales figure for most of its history. That is the brutal truth of today's car market. When the chips are down, used-car shoppers are nearly as conservative as their new-car-buying counterparts. Unfamiliarity breeds contempt. Contempt leads to fear. Fear leads to anger, and pretty soon you wind up with an older, beat-up Mazda MX-5 in your driveway instead of looking up a newer Pontiac Solstice or Saturn Sky. There are tons of other reasons why orphan cars have trouble selling in today's market. Worries about the cost of repair and the availability of parts hang over the industry's lost toys like a cloud of dust over Pigpen. Yet any common diagnostic repair database, such as Alldata, will have a complete framework for your car's repair and maintenance, and everyone from junkyards to auto parts stores to eBay and Amazon stock tens of thousands of parts. This makes some orphan cars mindblowingly awesome deals if you're willing to shop in the bargain bins of the used-car market. Consider a Suzuki Kizashi with a manual transmission. No, really.

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.

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.