1967 Pontiac Leman Tempest Custom Convertible 326 on 2040-cars

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2023 Grand National Roadster Show Mega Photo Gallery | Hot rod heaven

POMONA, Calif. — From an outsider's perspective, it would be easy to assume that the Grand National Roadster Show has always been a Southern California institution. After all, it celebrates the diverse postwar car culture of the region — hot rods, lead sleds, lowriders, and more. However, the show had its roots in NorCal in 1950 when Al Slonaker and his hot rod club showed their custom cars at the Oakland Expo. The GNRS moved to Pomona, California, in 2004. By then it had grown exponentially and seen about a dozen more car customization trends come and go. However, the show and its centerpiece award, the America's Most Beautiful Roadster prize, celebrate what is perhaps the first of those trends: the American hot rod in its purest form. Today, in its 73rd year, the GNRS is the oldest indoor car show in America. Annually it welcomes 500-800 cars, gathered into special themes like Tri-Five Chevys or Volkswagen Bugs. At this year's show, which was last weekend, a special hall was dedicated to pickup trucks built between 1948-98, including mini-trucks, groovy camper bed conversions, and resto-mods.  However, of all the vehicles presented, only nine are eligible for the America's Most Beautiful Roadster award. Winners get their names engraved on a 9-foot-tall perpetual trophy that was, according to The Ultimate Hot Rod Dictionary, the largest in the world when it debuted in 1950. Slonaker chose the word "roadster" initially because "hot rod" bore slightly negative outlaw connotations in 1950. Only American cars built before 1937 of certain body styles — roadsters, roadster pickups, phaetons, touring cars — are eligible, and they cannot have roll-down side windows.  Cars in the running for the cup cannot have been shown anywhere else before their debut at the GNRS.  Contestants for this accolade essentially build their cars to the a platonic ideal of a hot rod. This year the honors went to Jack Chisenhall of San Antonio, Texas, for his "Champ Deuce," a 1932 Ford Roadster. It's exactly what you picture when you think of a hot rod, but distilled to its absolute essence.  Other standouts included "Green Eyes," a two-tone green 1959 Chevy El Camino  with a heavily metal-flaked bed, "Blue Monday," a 1964 Buick Riviera lowrider, and a personal favorite, "Purple Reign," a purple and black 1951 Mercury. Cars may have started out as tools, but there aren't shows like this filled with custom refrigerators.

Steve McQueen barn find: Movie Trans Am surfaces after almost 40 years

An important Steve McQueen film car has emerged from barn storage. No, it's not yet another " Bullitt" Mustang, quite the contrary: The car in question is a 1980 Pontiac Trans Am, and it starred in McQueen's final film, " The Hunter." In the movie, McQueen plays a bounty hunter, and while in " Bullitt" he's quite the wheelman, that's not the case in this one. McQueen's character, "Papa" Thorson, is a horrible driver, and the Trans Am is far too much car for him. A chase sequence sees McQueen driving a combine harvester to catch the perps who are driving his stolen rental Pontiac, and the Trans Am ends up blown in half with dynamite, then returned to the airport on a trailer. The driver of said GMC truck and trailer combination, Harold McQueen (no relation), received the title of the first car used in filming, and for the following decades planned to fix the now-ruined car, but never got around to it. Instead, the 1,300-mile Pontiac wreck sat on a farm for nearly 40 years, until Harold decided to sell it to an enthusiast. There's studio documentation proving the car's pedigree, and stunt modifications can be seen in the Pontiac's floor and dash. While it's obviously in dreadful condition, the car remained more intact than the other stunt car the film crew blew up even more spectacularly — that car ended up as the pile of parts in the airport scene, and those bits and pieces were eventually dropped off at a junkyard after a Pontiac dealer refused them. McQueen did also drive a 1951 Chevrolet in the film, and kept that yellow convertible after filming was wrapped up. Sadly, he was diagnosed with cancer just a month later, after reportedly being in poor health during the shooting, and passed away in December 1980. The yellow Chevy stayed with his estate for some years, later getting restored and auctioned. Right now, it's not clear what the Trans Am's fate will be. The car's current owner, Calvin Riggs from Carlyle Motors in Katy, Texas, wants to know more about the Trans Am and the film shoot: His post on Hemmings includes a lot of information, but more would be useful. Related Video:

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.