1997 Mercury Mountaineer 5.0l Awd Like Ford Explorer No Reserve High Bid Wins It on 2040-cars

Auto blog

Junkyard Gem: 1995 Mercury Tracer Trio

With the rise of Radwood, cars with exaggerated characteristics associated with the 1980s and 1990s are cool again. That means some combination of pastel and/or neon colors, squiggly squeezed-from-toothpaste-tube graphics, nonfunctional decklid spoilers, giant TURBO badging, and kicky youth-centric nomenclature are required if you want your wheels to be considered in compliance with the sacred tenets of Radism. I do my best to find rad machinery while crawling around in car graveyards, and since I came of driving age in 1982 I know a bit about the subject. Today's rare Junkyard Gem shows us the Mercury Division's belated attempt to sell fun cars to rad-leaning youngsters: a Tracer Trio, found in a Denver yard a few weeks back. The Trio package added 310 bucks to the cost of the $11,280 base Tracer sedan (that's about $575 on a $20,925 car in 2022 dollars), and it got the hip-and-trendy young buyer a leather-wrapped steering wheel, seven-spoke wheels, a decklid spoiler and these rad fender badges. I'm going to say that the much louder graphics and candy-cane-colored displacement badges on the Pontiac Sunbird W25 out-radded the Tracer Trio by a mile, but then Pontiac generally out-radded everyone in those days. Even Plymouth got into the act with such radness as the Breeze Expresso and Sundance Duster (we'll overlook the anti-rad Horizon Miser here). Perhaps tellingly, Mercury, Pontiac and Plymouth all got the "Old Yeller" treatment not long after the Rad Era ended. The Tracer name always went on Mercuries built on Mazda platforms, starting with the Australia-built, Ford Laser-based 1987-1989 cars and then continuing with Mexico-assembled, Ford Escort-based 1991-1996 cars. That generation of Escort/Tracer was mechanical twins with the Mazda Protege, itself the bridge between the 323 and the Mazda3. Some Tracers got the a 1.8-liter Mazda engine that was related to the Miata's engine, but this one has the pure-Detroit CVH 1.9. You're looking at 88 horsepower right here; the Mazda 1.8 offered 127 horses. At least the original buyer of this car got the base five-speed manual transmission instead of forking over $815 extra (about $1,510 today) for the four-speed slushbox. As a 29-year-old slacker living in San Francisco's Mission District and driving a hooptie '65 Chevy Impala sedan at the time, I would have taken the manual transmission without the Trio package, had I been forced to buy a new Tracer.

Mercury Cougar from Bond film 'On Her Majesty's Secret Service' is up for auction

To a James Bond fan, this is a very cool and important car. This 1969 Mercury Cougar XR7 up for auction by Bonhams was one of three used during the filming of 1969's "On Her Majesty's Secret Service," the one-and-done film starring George Lazenby that's a dark horse favorite among many Bond fans (this one included, there's a Japanese-market 'OHMSS' poster hanging behind me as I type this). However, this was not James Bond's car in the movie. He drove an Aston Martin DBS, including in the film's pre-titles sequence when he follows Tracy di Vicenzo driving her bright red Cougar. She would go on to rescue him with it in Switzerland (hence the skis), sacrificing its pretty red paint and body work in a demolition derby on ice that they use to shake Blofeld's Benz-driving goons. Later, after getting caught in a blizzard, they seek refuge in a barn -- a pivotal scene in the film and one where this particular Cougar was apparently used.  ON HER MAJESTY’S SECRET SERVICE | Ice Car Race However, even without the Bond connection, this Cougar is a very cool car. It was one of only 127 in 1969 to be fitted with the top-of-the-line 428 CobraJet Ram Air V8 rated at 335 horsepower. Tracy had a serious muscle car. Bonham's doesn't seem to have thought to provide a Marti report, but I'm guessing the build of XR7, convertible and a color combo of matching red exterior and interior wasn't exactly a common one. Well, we know there were at least three. With skis and French number plates, too.  As for the '69 Cougar itself, this was the only year it looked like this: it got a new body for '69 that would last two years, but the horizontal grille slats that extended over the headlight doors (so cool!) didn't carry over to 1970. It looked worse, and it could easily be argued that it was only downhill from here for the Cougar.  The auction is set for December 16 and Bonhams is estimating a sale price of between $130,000 and $200,000. That certainly makes sense given the rarity of a CobraJet Cougar, the film connection and the complete restoration undertaken by the man who found it in a classified ad in the late 1980s. He originally just wanted it for the engine until he discovered the Bond connection. I actually saw this very car at the 50th Anniversary "Bond in Motion" exhibit at the Beaulieu Motor Museum in England back in 2013 (pictured below). There's also a model of the thing sitting next to me.

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.