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Junkyard Gem: 1996 Pontiac Grand Am SE Coupe

The Grand Am was the best-selling Pontiac model in the United States for every year of the 1990s, and it outsold most of its N-Body platform-mates (including the Chevrolet Corsica/Beretta) during nearly all of that decade. A sporty-looking compact with two or four doors, the Grand Am offered true 1990s radness—and, in some cases, respectable performance — at a good price. Today's Junkyard Gem is a nicely preserved example of the facelifted 1996 Grand Am, found in a Denver-area car graveyard. This is an SE Coupe with base engine and transmission, the most affordable Grand Am available in 1996. List price was $13,499, or about $26,523 in 2023 dollars. The factory-issued Monroney sheet for this car was still inside, so we can see that the original buyer got the car at Bob Ruwart Motors in Wheatland, Wyoming (about 175 miles up I-25 from this Pontiac's final parking spot), and paid a total of $16,054 ($31,543 in today's money) after the cost of options and the destination charge. The '96 Grand AM SE buyer had to pay extra for cruise control, air conditioning, power windows, rear glass defogger and other features we now take for granted on new cars. The base engine was the 2.4-liter Twin Cam four cylinder, a member of the screaming Oldsmobile Quad 4 family. This one was rated at 150 horsepower and 155 pound-feet. A 3.1-liter V6 with 155 horses and 185 pound-feet was an option. If you got the V6 in your '96 Grand Am, however, you couldn't get a manual transmission. This car has a proper five-speed manual, which made for fun driving with the high-revving Twin Cam engine in a machine weighing just 2,802 pounds (which is quite a bit less than what the current Honda Civic weighs). It traveled just over 160,000 miles during its 27 years on the road. The body and interior were still in fairly good condition when the car arrived here, so we can assume that some expensive mechanical problem doomed this car. Perhaps the original clutch wore out and the owner didn't consider it worth replacing. After all, a mid-1990s Detroit two-door with a transmission most people can't drive isn't worth much these days. Though nobody knew it when this car was new, the Grand Am would be gone in nine years and Pontiac itself would get the axe five years after that. It makes the ordinary extraordinary. Husbands and wives would argue for 12 hours over who got to drive the Grand Am, if we are to believe this ad. Proud sponsor of the 1996 Olympic team.

Drive plays Smokey, Bandit with turbo Trans Am

The modern trend for powertrains can be summed up with the simple maxim: cut displacement and add forced induction. Whether you are looking at the just-introduced 2016 Chevrolet Cruze or a BMW M3, this adage holds true. However, Pontiac's attempt at the idea goes all the way back in 1980 with the Firebird Trans Am and its turbocharged 4.9-liter V8. Drive's Mike Musto takes out a 1981 example to explain what makes this largely forgotten muscle car so special, and it certainly isn't performance. While a 4.9-liter V8 might sound like a lot in the modern world, keep in mind that only few years before the second-generation Trans Am was available with up to a staggering 7.5-liters of displacement. Turbocharging of road cars in the early '80s was quite archaic by today's standards, and the Firebird only managed around 200 horsepower with this mill. Without much go, the turbo Trans Am made up for a lack of power with lots of show. As Musto points out, the famous flaming chicken adorns practically every surface you can see on the coupe, and boost lights on the hood illuminate when the turbo is spinning. Musto still finds a lot to like about the turbo Trans Am. He even calls it "Burt Reynolds as an automobile." Find out why the coupe is so special in this entertaining clip.

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.