1960 Ford Thunderbird on 2040-cars

Auto blog

Junkyard Gem: 1993 Mercury Topaz GS Sedan

As long as the Mercury brand existed — a period spanning the 1939 through 2011 model years — nearly every Mercury sold in the United States was more or less a redecorated Ford model. The Torino had its Montego sibling, the Crown Victoria had the Grand Marquis, the Cougar was based on everything from the Mustang to the Mondeo, and so on. Naturally, when the folks in Dearborn developed the Ford Tempo compact, a Mercury version had to be created. This was the Topaz, with the official launch of both cars taking place on the deck of the aircraft carrier often referred to as the USS Decrepit. You can't make this stuff up! The Tempo/Topaz, also known as the Tempaz, has largely faded from our collective automotive memory by now, since it broke no significant new engineering or styling ground (this story would be much different if Ford had only put the amazing straight-eight "T-Drive" Tempaz powertrain into production) and didn't have any endearing features other than being a cheap domestic competitor to the Toyota Corolla and Nissan Sentra. Still, close to 3 million Tempazes left North American Ford and Lincoln-Mercury showrooms during the 1984-1994 period. As you'd expect, most of these disposable cars disappeared from both the street and the car graveyard long ago. It takes a very special Tempaz for me to break out my camera while I'm patrolling my local wrecking yards; generally, this means an ultra-rare all-wheel-drive version or at least a very early model in super-clean condition. Today's Junkyard Gem is neither, but I took one look at this spectacular Bordello Red crypto-velour-and-slippery-plastic interior and recognized that this was no ordinary junkyard Mercury. It appears that Mercury had dropped the idea of clever names for base-grade seat fabrics by the time of the Topaz, referring to this stuff as just "cloth" in all the brochures I could find. That's too bad, because Mercurys had cool names for upholstery (e.g., Chromatex) in the old days. The interior is in very good condition but the steering wheel shows substantial wear, so I think this is a high-mile Topaz that got meticulous care from its owner or owners. Ford used five-digit odometers on these cars until the end of production, however, so we'll never know if this reading indicates 65,404 miles or 365,404 miles. The body is very straight, but there's some nasty corrosion behind the right front wheelwell.

Chris Harris checks out Ken Block's Hoonicorn '65 Mustang

Ken Block's Hoonicorn, which stars in Gymkhana Seven, might still bear a passing resemblance to a vintage 1965 Ford Mustang, but underneath the skin, the car is one of the baddest custom machines to ever do a smoky burnout on the road. The ever enthusiastic British auto journalist Chris Harris is now showing what really makes Block's new ride tick on video, and Harris even gets to go for quite a ride. The only Mustang components really left on the Hoonicorn are the A-pillar, B-pillar and roof, according to Harris. Everything else is ditched to create Block's ultimate Gymkhana tool. The 845-horsepower, 6.7-liter Rousch Yates V8 sits behind the front axle, and the grunt is routed to all four wheels through a Sadev gearbox usually found on Dakar Rally vehicles. The whole drivetrain is packed with cool little touches; like that giant handbrake that also disconnects power from the front wheels when in use. The superlatives about the Hoonicorn could go on forever, but settle in and let a very excited Harris tell you about just some of them. He's like a kid in a candy store here, and the look that combines surprise, fear and joy during his ride with Block is the kind that lacks a suitable word in the English language.

Revisiting the 2008-09 auto bailout that saved GM and Chrysler

The Federal Reserve stayed open late on December 31, 2008. There's almost no way you could remember that because barely anyone knew at the time. But General Motors had to pay its bills, and the Fed wired money so GM could still buy things in January. Without those funds, the nation's largest automaker wouldn't have seen much of 2009. It's one of many heart-stopping moments that illustrate just how close Detroit's Big Three came to extinction nearly a decade ago. They're chronicled in a new movie, Live Another Day, premiering in theaters September 16. Filmmakers Bill Burke and Didier Pietri interviewed nearly all of the key executives, federal officials, and union chiefs to recreate the auto industry's most perilous period. The movie begins in the aftermath of Lehman Brothers' demise amid the global financial meltdown. Things looked bleak for American carmakers, and their CEOs were laughed off Capitol Hill when they sought a Wall Street-style bailout. "It was a feeling that it was the end of the world," Pietri told Autoblog in an interview where he and Burke previewed the film. Saved by last-minute loans authorized by the Bush Administration after Congress refused to act, Detroit staggered into 2009 with a faint pulse. Live Another Day illustrates the downward spiral that played out that winter as President Obama and his task force – with little prior knowledge of the auto industry – wrestled over the fate of hundreds of thousands of jobs. GM's longtime CEO Rick Wagoner was fired in March. Fiat CEO Sergio Marchionne suddenly appeared as a savior for Chrysler, with his own motives. Obama rejected restructuring plans from the automakers. Chrysler declared bankruptcy on April 30. GM followed June 1. The sequence was very public, but Pietri and Burke showcase lesser-known events that shaped the outcome. They also seek to dispel the notion that the government rescued GM and Chrysler from incompetent leaders. "We never subscribed to the theories that the management structures of the companies were a bunch of idiots who didn't know what is going on," Pietri said. At one point, Chrysler executives were negotiating with Marchionne and Fiat. Unbeknownst to them, the government was having its own talks with the Italian automaker. The filmmakers also cast light on the bankruptcy process, which was shredded to shepherd two of America's industrial icons through reorganizations.