1969 Pontiac Gto Judge on 2040-cars

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1939 Pontiac Ghost Car commands $308,000 at auction

For the 1939 World's Fair, Pontiac built a Deluxe Six bodied in Plexiglass. Part of the Previews of Progress pavilion in which General Motors' Futurama showed off what was to come in the world of autos, the 'invisible' Pontiac is credited as the first transparent car in America. And there were no shortcuts taken with its body: the Plexiglass form was fabricated by the company that brought the material to market in 1933, Rohm & Haas.
The see-through sedan was sold at RM Auctions' St. John's auction in Michigan on July 30, fetching $308,000. Not bad appreciation for a domestic oddity that cost $25,000 to build when new. You can check out the high-res gallery of its innards, including copper and chrome metalwork and white moldings and wheels, and get the exhaustive details on it after the jump.

2013 Hurst Edition Trans Am

No, you didn't read our title wrong. This is a 2013 model year Trans Am, and yes, that is a Pontiac logo affixed to the front of the car. But don't bother dialing up your local General Motors dealership just yet. This is the new Hurst Edition Trans Am created by the Trans Am Depot located in Tallahassee, FL. Having spent a number of years restoring early Trans Am models, the crew at Trans Am Depot finally did what many Pontiac enthusiasts wish GM would have done - create a modern Trans Am using the fifth-generation Chevrolet Camaro.
As the former owner of a 1977 model, I've been wanting to check out Trans Am Depot ever since I first saw the company have American Choppers build a trio of motorcycles inspired by its Pontiac remakes. So I jumped at the chance to head to Florida's capital city to visit the shop and drive its latest creation, the new Hurst Edition Trans Am. As a collaboration with Hurst, this car made its debut at the 2012 SEMA Show and then popped up again on our radar with a cheesy yet perfectly fitting video back in March.
Driving Notes

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.