1964 Mercury Comet V8 Coupe Great Daily Driver Condition on 2040-cars

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Junkyard Gem: 1996 Nissan Quest XE with 338,549 miles

When I hit the junkyard, I always look for vehicles with impressive final figures showing on their odometers. I find so many Hondas and Toyotas with better than 300,000 miles that I don't consider them especially noteworthy (the exception being super-low-spec cheap models, such as a Tercel or Civic VX), and it goes without saying that the bar is quite high for Mercedes-Benzes as well. It has been surprisingly difficult to find discarded Nissans that made it past the 300k mark; today's Junkyard Gem is just the fourth I've documented. The highest-mile junked Nissan I'd found prior to today's minivan is a 1994 Maxima with 364,238 miles, followed by a 1987 Maxima with 341,176 miles and a 1986 200SX with 309,222 miles. Keep in mind that Nissan didn't go to six-digit odometers on most of its US-market cars until the early 1980s, and then went to tough-to-read-in-the-junkyard electronic odometers in the early 2000s; this means the pool of potential high-mile Nissans is limited to about the 1983-2000 range of model years. Ford has just as much right to claim credit to this van's impressive mile total as does Nissan, since the Quest was a collaboration between Ford and Nissan that also produced the Mercury Villager; this van was built by Ford at the Ohio Assembly plant. The Quest/Villager platform was derived from the Maxima's, and the engine is pure Nissan: a 3.0-liter VG30 V6 rated at 151 horsepower. The only transmission available in the first-generation (1993-1999) Quest/Villager was a four-speed automatic. This one appears to have been sold new at Landrum Nissan in Pueblo. The rear glass has been painted flat black, possibly to keep prying eyes from seeing valuable cargo. The rear seats are long gone, so this van probably hauled cargo for much of its long life. The front interior seems to be in good shape. Why is this van here? There's body damage on the left rear and right front, suggesting a crash that may have bent the suspension past the worth-fixing threshold. Perhaps the crinkled metal just made this van too unsightly, or maybe some powertrain problem was the culprit. This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. It's time to expect more from a minivan. This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. It's all fun and games until the toddler takes the wheel.

Ringbrothers shows off Coyote-powered 1968 Mercury Cougar

We'll openly admit that not every SEMA build is our cup of tea. But this? A tastefully resto-modded 1968 Mercury Cougar with a 460-horsepower Ford Mustang V8? Yeah, this is right in our wheelhouse. Sadly, there was no in-pwerson SEMA show in 2020, so we missed out on gems like this one. SEMA or no SEMA, the aftermarket carries on, and co-owners Jim and Mike Ring of Ringbrothers (get it?) saw no reason to let their time and effort go to waste.  When they're not building wild customs (see: 1,100-horsepower 1972 AMC Javelin AMX) or more subtle showcases (such as this Cougar or their 1971 K5 Chevy Blazer build from 2018), the folks at Ringbrothers crank out factory reproduction parts, whether for old-fashioned restoration or modification purposes. While '60s muscle cars are recurring build subjects for the two, the Cougar was the first of its kind they tackled.  Keeping it in the family, Ringbrothers sourced a Ford 5.0-liter "Coyote" V8 and a 10-Speed Automatic (lifted from an F-150 Raptor, incidentally) for the build. They didn't stop with the driveline, of course. The suspension was overhauled with a little help from DSE and a set of HRE Series C1 C103 Forged 3-Piece wheels were thrown over upgraded brakes.  "We put our heart into each car we build, and this Cougar is no exception," Jim said. "The finished product is mild and classy, yet any enthusiast instantly knows it's not stock. I imagine this is what Mercury designers would have come up with if they were building the Cougar today." "While we couldn't bring the car to the SEMA Show, we hope it can be shown to the public soon," Mike said. "We had never done a Cougar before, so this was a fun build. I love working with new shapes and coming up with new ideas." There's plenty to appreciate about this Cougar apart from the mechanicals, too. The finish is Augusta Green Metallic (courtesy of BASF), which was a factory color in 1968. You may know it by another name: Highland Green. There are a few custom exterior touches, but they're quite subtle and styled to be period-correct. The interior was also restored and updated, and it's where you'll find the only thing we're not fond of: that big, fat truck shifter. Gearbox choices notwithstanding, it's a bit of an eyesore. But considering how gorgeous the rest is, we'll give it a pass.  Related Video:

Car Stories: Owning the SHO station wagon that could've been

A little over a year ago, I bought what could be the most interesting car I will ever own. It was a 1987 Mercury Sable LS station wagon. Don't worry – there's much more to this story. I've always had a soft spot for wagons, and I still remember just how revolutionary the Ford Taurus and Mercury Sable were back in the mid-1980s. As a teenager, I fell especially hard for the 220-horsepower 1989 Ford Taurus SHO – so much so that I'd go on to own a dozen over the next 20 years. And like many other quirky enthusiasts, I always wondered what a SHO station wagon would be like. That changed last year when I bought the aforementioned Sable LS wagon, festooned with the high-revving DOHC 3.0-liter V6 engine and five-speed manual transmission from a 1989 Taurus SHO. In addition, the wagon had SHO front seats, a SHO center console, and the 140-mph instrument cluster with mileage that matched the engine. When I bought it, that number was just under 60,000 – barely broken in for the overachieving Yamaha-sourced mill. The engine and transmission weren't the only upgrades. It wore dual-piston PBR brakes with the choice Eibach/Tokico suspension combo in front. The rear featured SHO disc brakes with MOOG cargo coils and Tokico shocks, resulting in a wagon that handled ridiculously well while still retaining a decent level of comfort and five-door functionality. I could attack the local switchbacks while rowing gears to a 7,000-rpm soundtrack just as easily as loading up on lumber at the hardware store. Over time I added a front tower brace to stiffen things a bit as well as a bigger, 73-mm mass airflow sensor for better breathing, and I sourced some inexpensive 2004 Taurus 16-inch five-spoke wheels, refinished in gunmetal to match the two-tone white/gunmetal finish on the car. That, along with some minor paint and body work, had me winning trophies at every car show in town. And yet, what I loved most about the car wasn't its looks or performance, but rather its history. And here's where things also get a little philosophical, because I absolutely, positively love old used cars. Don't get me wrong – new cars are great. Designers can sculpt a timeless automotive shape, and engineers can construct systems and subsystems to create an exquisite chassis with superb handling and plenty of horsepower. But it's the age and mileage that turn machines into something more than the sum of their parts.