Pontiac Firebird 400 on 2040-cars

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Junkyard Gem: 1992 Pontiac Firebird

Last spring, this series featured a 1992 Chevrolet Camaro RS in a Northern California junkyard, an example of the final model year for the highly successful third-generation GM F-Body. On a later visit to that yard, I spotted the Pontiac sibling to that car, a Firebird that was born the same year at the same Southern California factory. When the Chevrolet Division introduced the first Camaro as a 1967 model, the Pontiac Division got its own version of the F-Body called the Firebird. While the two cars were built on the same chassis and looked very similar, the first-generation Camaros got Chevrolet engines while their Firebird colleagues got Pontiac engines (including the innovative SOHC straight-six). The 1970-1981 second-generation Firebirds still had some Pontiac-only engines, but Chevrolet and Oldsmobile power crept under some hoods during that period. The third-generation Firebirds first appeared as 1982 models, and they drew from near-identical stockpiles of GM running gear (including the distinctly agricultural Iron Duke four-banger, which could be considered a Pontiac-derived engine). When the Camaro got the axe after 2002, the Firebird's neck was put on the same chopping block. When the Camaro returned for 2010, the Pontiac brand was sputtering to an agonized halt during its final year and there was no chance of the Firebird's return. This car is a fairly ordinary coupe, though it does have the mid-grade 205-horsepower 5.0-liter Chevrolet small-block V8 instead of the base 140-horse 3.1-liter V6. A 5.7-liter small-block was available as well. A five-speed manual transmission was base equipment, but few Americans wanted a three-pedal setup by the early 1990s. This car has the optional four-speed automatic. The MSRP with 5.0 engine, automatic transmission and air conditioning (which this car has) started at $14,304. That's about $31,868 in 2023 dollars. It was built at Van Nuys Assembly in the San Fernando Valley of Los Angeles County. By the dawn of the 1990s, the Camaros and Firebirds made at Van Nuys Assembly had become known as the worst-built GM cars made in North America, and the plant was shut down forever soon after this car was built. Today, a shopping mall lives where the factory once stood. This car managed to drive more than 150,000 miles during its life, so it beat the odds. The thrid-gen F-Body was pretty antiquated by the early 1990s, but the fourth-gen cars handled better and looked up-to-date for the era.

Junkyard Gem: 2009 Pontiac G3

Things weren't looking so rosy for Pontiac Division in late 2008, as The General had troubles of its own that culminated in Chapter 11 bankruptcy in June of 2009. Meanwhile, the Solstice and G8 had failed to revive Pontiac's youthful "excitement" image. Naturally, this seemed like the ideal time to put Pontiac badges and a new grille on the Chevrolet Aveo (itself a rebadged Daewoo Kalos) and call it the G3 (in the United States) or the G3 Wave (in Canada). Sales were not brisk, to put it mildly, and the 2009-only G3 has become one of the rarest modern Pontiacs in the junkyard world. The announcement of Pontiac's demise came in the spring of 2009, with the very last Pontiac-badged vehicle built being either a G3 or a Vibe (since those cars were really Daewoos and Toyotas, respectively, the true final Pontiac was the 2010 G6). The Aveo itself disappeared after the 2011 model year, replaced by an updated Kalos design known here as the Chevrolet Sonic. As a result of the GM bankruptcy, termination of the Pontiac brand, a nasty worldwide recession, and the preference of American vehicle shoppers for trucks or at least truck-shaped cars, few knew the G3 existed and fewer still thought to buy one. This is only the second G3 I've managed to find in a car graveyard, and I've been searching diligently.  So, it's a Junkyard Gem in the historical sense, not in the sense of being the kind of car you'd want to take to your 20th high school reunion. That said, it has power windows, air conditioning, and a CD player— pretty nice stuff for a dirt-cheap econobox from a decade back. And look! An AUX jack for your iPod or early-model smartphone. I drove dozens of cheap rental cars for my job with the 24 Hours of Lemons Traveling Circus during the late 2000s, and very few had this feature; until about 2013 or so, you had to travel with your own CDs or one of those horrible wireless FM modulators if you wanted to listen to anything other than the radio in a non-high-roller rental car. Under the hood, a 106-horse Daewoo Ecotec displacing 1.6 liters. This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. If there were any television commercials for the G3, I guarantee that they weren't as fun as this one— set in the California high desert, of course— for the SKDM Kalos.

This junkyard '91 Grand Am is as hooptie as it gets

I spend a lot of time in junkyards. A lot of time. With all this experience, I have learned to recognize a perfect hooptie when I see one, a car whose final owner got every last bit of use out of it when its value was hovering right about at scrap value. This 1991 Pontiac Grand Am that I spotted in a San Francisco Bay Area self-service wrecking yard a few days ago, from the final model year for the third-generation Grand Am, checks all the hooptie boxes just right. First of all, it's a low-option coupe with the wretched and unloved GM Iron Duke engine, a rattly, gnashy, thrashy 2.5-liter four-cylinder kludged together using off-the-shelf parts from the Pontiac 301-cubic-inch V8 during the darkest years of the Malaise Era and used in cars whose buyers just didn't care. Most of the paint has been burned off by 25 years of harsh California sun, but the car spent sufficient time in a damp, shady spot for lichens to build up here and there. There are skeletons-with-sombreros stencils sprayed here and there, plus a big moonshine-guzzling skeleton mural painted on the hood. Goodbye, property values! Still, someone felt some affection for this car, giving it the name "Good Ol' Snakey" and painting that name on the decklid. We can assume that the Iron Duke was a bit loose by this time, probably leaving a serpentine trail of blue smoke behind the car at all times. So, the combination of cheapness, ugliness, menace, and who-gives-a-damn functionality make this Grand Am an excellent example of a pure hooptie. Within a couple of months, it will be crushed, shredded, shipped out of the Port of Oakland, and reborn in China as refrigerators and Geely Emgrands. Somewhere in Northern California, though, a few of Ol' Smokey's friends will remember this car fondly.