1963 Pontiac Catalina Restored - Red Interior - White Exterior - All Chrome on 2040-cars

Auto blog

Camaro-based Trans Am SE Bandit Edition borrows Burt Reynolds

For some reason, modifying modern Chevrolet Camaros into the lurching, reincarnated shells of the Pontiac brand is still a thing. If you're the perverse sort that likes this kind of thing, you should check out the latest product from the Trans Am Depot, which comes complete with an endorsement from the star of Smokey and the Bandit, Burt Reynolds. Yes, the new Trans Am SE Bandit Edition has been signed and endorsed by the man himself, but what's important here is not the signature on the dash, it's the bits of Camaro that have been modified. Aesthetically, that means a Bandit-and-Frog-approved set of T-tops, a front-opening hood with a very large, prominent shaker scoop, an equally large and prominent screaming chicken, and Trans Am-inspired front and rear fascias. And naturally, Burt Reynolds' signature adorns the dash. There are plenty of reminders in the cabin about this car's Hollywood inspiration, too. Bandit decals can be found on the front headrests and center console lid, there are chicken wings on the Camaro-spec plastic door inserts, and the black-and-tan color scheme matches nicely with the exterior look. And power? Well, Sheriff Buford T. Justice would have a lot more trouble keeping up with this Trans Am than he did with the original. The 7.4-liter LSX V8 has been paired with a 2.9-liter supercharger which is good for 840 horsepower. It's fast and loud, and even if you can't get behind the look (we can't), at least this Camaro-in-Trans Am's clothing can impress with its performance. The Bandit Edition is limited to just 77 units with prices starting around $115,000. You can check out the official video from Trans Am Depot, which comes with a decent helping of Burt Reynolds, up top. Related Video:

What's driving the spike in air-cooled Porsche 911 prices

Classic car prices have been racing skyward in general, but prices for air-cooled (pre-1999) Porsche 911s are ascending like they're strapped to rocket boosters. It's been going on for years, and every year people are surprised by how outrageous it's getting: Classic Driver covered it this month, as did The Truth About Cars who included this example of a "scruffy" 1993 RS America with 215,000 miles asking $80K; Mike Spinelli at Drive riffed on it at length last year along with a host of classic-car-market observers; Porsche forums were at it two years ago; and let's not even get into the 993 Turbo, going for prices so high you have to lie down to look at them. Speed Academy has run a piece looking at why it's happening, one theory being that regular-guy owners are hopping on the runaway-price wagon without any good reason. As in the example of that high-mileage, scruffy 911 RS America at Bring a Trailer, the owner sees pristine examples valued by Hagerty at $170,000, and even though the average value is $93,238 he thinks something like, "Mine's got to be worth half of top dollar ..." The tide - even one rising on air - makes it hard to find decent prices. Then there is the flood of money into the market. In spite of articles that try to temper investors' outlooks on collectible cars, other articles in places like the Financial Times and the Guardian promote vintage metal as a safe place to put money and reap astonishing returns. Speed Academy thinks one side effect of high 911 prices is that responsible enthusiasts are turning their attention to cars like the BMW 2002, E30 M3, and E9 3.0CS, saying their prices are "sharply on the rise." The entire article is worth a read since it goes into markets far afield from pricey German steel, but incredibly, the entire piece was actually inspired by a 1997 Acura Integra R that sold for $43,000 on eBay. So while this could be the best time to get into the classic car market if you know what you're doing, it is certainly the best time to do your homework. Related Video:

German prosecutors have recorded calls between VW bigwigs talking dieselgate

It's barely possible to believe how poorly Volkswagen continues to handle dieselgate. Depending on which day you catch the news, the German carmaker embodies the corporate venality of "Michael Clayton," the comic blundering of the Coen Brothers' "Burn After Reading," and the every-man-for-himself vengeance of "Reservoir Dogs." Today is Tarantino day, with news that German prosecutors have recordings of phone calls between former Audi and Porsche development boss Wolfgang Hatz, ex-Volkswagen Group executive Matthias Muller, and current Porsche executives Oliver Blume and Michael Steiner. Hatz made the calls to the trio in November 2015, two months after Volkswagen admitted its diesel-particulate sins to the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency. Hatz was still employed at the time, and in his company car. Who recorded the calls? His wife. Hatz and his missus apparently saw the storm coming and started stacking defenses early. Hatz's wife, who can be heard encouraging Hatz during at least one call, sent the recordings to Hatz's attorney from her mobile phone. According to a Google translation of the German newspaper Handelsblatt's report, she included the note, "Here is a very long, but quite informative conversation on the current situation with useful formulations." The report in Handelsblatt said that in Germany it is generally "not allowed" to record a conversation and pass it on to a third party. We don't know how the authorities will handle this matter, since prosecutors found the recordings in e-mail attachments on Mrs. Hatz's mobile phone. Remember, when the diesel scandal broke, VW spent months saying that only a small number of low-level personnel were behind it, and all of the higher-ups had been blindsided. Ex-CEO Martin Winterkorn claimed to be "stunned that misconduct on such a scale was possible in the Volkswagen Group." Winterkorn successor Matthias Muller said, "according to current information, a few developers interfered in the engine management." Former VW USA honcho Michael Horn told a congressional committee that "a couple of software engineers" programmed the software for reasons no one could understand. In the recorded conversations, Hatz apparently called Muller to find out how VW planned to treat him.