Saab 9-3 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.

What would you drive in 1985?

Bereft of live baseball games to watch, I've turned to the good ship YouTube to watch classic games. While watching the 1985 American League Championship Series last night, several of the broadcast's commercials made its way into the original VHS recording, including those for cars. "Only 8.8% financing on a 1985 Ford Tempo!" What a deal! That got me thinking: what would I drive in 1985?  It sure wouldn't be a Tempo. Or an IROC-Z, for that matter, despite what my Photoshopped 1980s self would indicate in the picture above. I posed this question to my fellow Autobloggists. Only one could actually drive back then, I was only 2 and a few editors weren't even close to being born. Here are our choices, which were simply made with the edict of "Come on, man, be realistic."  West Coast Editor James Riswick: OK, I started this, I'll go first. I like coupes today, so I'm pretty sure I'd drive one back then. I definitely don't see myself driving some badge-engineered GM thing from 1985, and although a Honda Prelude has a certain appeal, I must admit that something European would likely be in order. A BMW maybe? No, I'm too much a contrarian for that. The answer is therefore a 1985 Saab 900 Turbo 3-Door, which is not only a coupe but a hatchback, too. If I could scrounge up enough Reagan-era bucks for the ultra-cool SPG model, that would be rad. The 900 Turbo pictured, which was for auction on Bring a Trailer a few years ago, came with plum-colored Bokhara Red, and you're damn sure I would've had me one of those. Nevermind 1985, I'd probably drive this thing today.   Associate Editor Byron Hurd: I'm going to go with the 1985.5 Ford Mustang SVO, AKA the turbocharged Fox Body that everybody remembers but nobody drives. The mid-year update to the SVO bumped the power up from 175 ponies (yeah, yeah) to 205, making it almost as powerful (on paper, anyway) as the V8-powered GT models offered in the same time frame. I chose this particular car because it's a bit of a time capsule and, simultaneously, a reminder that all things are cyclical. Here we are, 35 years later, and 2.3-liter turbocharged Mustangs are a thing again. Who would have guessed?

Saab didn't want this electric, 99-like delivery van from the 1970s

National Electric Vehicle Sweden (NEVS) purchased the remains of Saab in 2012 to turn it into an electric-only brand. While its vast heritage is turbocharged and rooted in racing, Saab didn't shy away from dabbling in battery-powered drivetrains, and there's an experimental mail delivery van in its official museum to prove it. The name Saab in the last paragraph should be followed by an asterisk. The prototype kind of looks like a 99 when viewed from the front, and it wears the soccer ball-style alloy wheels seen on several of the brand's models during the 1970s, but the museum's curator told Autoblog it was built in Linkoping, Sweden, by the company's defense and plane-making division. It's certainly a Saab, but not quite the kind you're likely thinking of. Engineers began the project in the early 1970s, at about the same time archrival Volvo launched its own experiments in the field of electrification. The idea was to create an electric, short-range distribution van that could be used by Sweden's postal service, for example. Two prototypes were built in 1975 and 1976, including the example in the museum, and each had a low-speed driving range of about 40 miles. Additional technical specifications are lost to history, partly because Saab's car-building division in Trollhattan -- the folks that developed the 99 and the 900, among others -- didn't like the van at all and wanted nothing to do with it. Saab electric van prototype View 2 Photos We peeked inside and under it and spotted a bulky, lead-acid battery pack integrated into a tray that could be pulled out from the back after flipping up the panel onto which part of the rear bumper was mounted. This layout was relatively common in early electric prototypes, like the Bus that Volkswagen developed in 1972 and tested in select German cities. Recharging the battery pack took hours, so swapping it out was considered the more practical alternative. Period documents and images confirm the electronics were mounted under the hood. Saab made two electric prototypes, including one it fitted with front-end parts like headlights (complete with wipers), turn signals, and a plastic grille from a 99. The second wore round headlights, bullet-shaped turn signals, and looked more like something you'd see in an episode of "Scooby Doo" than what you'd find in a Saab showroom. The van's resemblance to the 99 was purely artificial; it was its own thing, on its own chassis.