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Junkyard Gem: 1997 Pontiac Sunfire SE Convertible

For the entire 24-year production run of the GM J platform (best known for the Chevrolet Cavalier), the Pontiac Division offered new J-Body cars for sale in the United States. First there was the J2000, followed in quick succession by the 2000, 2000 Sunbird and Sunbird. The Sunbird stuck around until the Cavalier got a major redesign for the 1995 model year, at which point Pontiac changed the car's name to Sunfire. Today's Junkyard Gem is one of those early Sunfires, a top-of-the-line SE convertible with the optional big engine and manual transmission. The Sunfire was an extremely close sibling to the same-year Cavalier (by the late 1980s, all the other US-market GM divisions had dropped their J-cars, which meant no more Skyhawks, Cimarrons or Firenzas), quite difficult to distinguish from its near-twin at a glance. The base engine for the 1997 Sunfire convertible was the pushrod 2.2-liter straight-four that powered so many J-bodies of the 1990s. That engine produced just 120 gnashing, valve-floating horsepower, not much by late-1990s standards. For a mere 450 additional dollars, however, the 2.4-liter Twin Cam engine and its high-revving 150 horses could be had by '97 Sunfire buyers. That's what's in this car. This is one of the members of the Oldsmobile Quad 4 family, though some fanatics will yell at you if you apply that name to the versions that don't have big QUAD 4 lettering cast into the valve cover. This is the most powerful engine ever used in production Sunfires. For 1997, Pontiac offered a four-speed automatic transmission for no extra cost in the Sunfire convertible. Buyers of all other Sunfire models that year had to shell out either $550 or $810 ($1,026 or $1,511 in 2023 dollars) for a two-pedal rig. That means that the buyer of this car really wanted the five-speed manual transmission (or just hungered for the $810 credit offered in the fine print for takers of the manual). Plenty of free-breathing engine power, five-on-the-floor driving enjoyment and the open skies above. What a fun car! This one made it to nearly 180,000 miles. For this car with the Quad 4 under the hood and a clutch pedal on the floor, the MSRP was $18,539 (about $34,584 today). Its Cavalier LS convertible twin with the same engine/transmission setup cost $17,365 ($32,394 now). This car has a bunch of options, including the 15" Rally aluminum wheels, so the out-the-door price would have been higher. The last year for the Sunfire was 2005, same as the Cavalier.

Junkyard Gem: 1987 Pontiac Firebird

From 1967 through 2002, the Pontiac Division offered the Firebird, close sibling to the Chevrolet Camaro. By the third generation, which debuted for the 1982 model year, it became more difficult to tell the two F-body cars apart at a glance and the Pontiac-exclusive engines of the earlier years disappeared, but the Firebird still retained its own personality and its own position in the GM marketing hierarchy. I still find the occasional 1982-1992 Camaro as I search car graveyards for interesting stuff, but the corresponding Firebirds have become scarce in recent years. Here's a base-engine-equipped '87, its Bright Red paint (yes, that was the official name for the color) faded by the Colorado sun as it awaits the crusher. Firebird shoppers had their choice of three engines in 1987: A 5.7-liter Chevy V8 (210 hp), a 5.0-liter Chevy V8 (205 hp) and the same 2.8-liter 60° V6 that went into the Fiero and countless front-drive GM sedans (135 hp). This car has the base engine. The third-gen F-body didn't weigh much (3,105 pounds for the '87 with six-banger, about what a 2020 Corolla weighs), so 135 horses was tolerable. Plenty of these cars got T-5 5-speed manual transmissions, but this one got the two-pedal setup. Camaro wheels, of course. Our Friend the Carburetor didn't disappear from new cars until the early 1990s in the United States, though electronic fuel injection had become very commonplace by 1987. Still, GM considered this car's EFI worth a door-handle brag. It's not worth fixing up a mashed six-cylinder third-gen Firebird, so we can see the route this car took to its final parking space. This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. When you're about to be beaten to a pulp by catcalling, Olds-driving thugs, run to the Firebird! This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. So much big hair in these late-1980s Pontiac ads! Featured Gallery Junked 1987 Pontiac Firebird View 24 Photos Auto News Pontiac Automotive History Coupe Firebird pontiac firebird Junkyard Gems

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.