2000 Pontiac Grand Prix Gt Sedan 4-door 3.8l on 2040-cars

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Are orphan cars better deals?

Most folks don't know a Saturn Aura from an Oldsmobile Aurora. Those of you who are immersed in the labyrinth of automobilia know that both cars were testaments to the mediocrity that was pre-bankruptcy General Motors, and that both brands are now long gone. But everybody else? Not so much. By the same token, there are some excellent cars and trucks that don't raise an eyebrow simply because they were sold under brands that are no longer being marketed. Orphan brands no longer get any marketing love, and because of that they can be alarmingly cheap. Case in point, take a look at how a 2010 Saturn Outlook compares with its siblings, the GMC Acadia and Buick Enclave. According to the Manheim Market Report, the Saturn will sell at a wholesale auto auction for around $3,500 less than the comparably equipped Buick or GMC. Part of the reason for this price gap is that most large independent dealerships, such as Carmax, make it a point to avoid buying cars with orphaned badges. Right now if you go to Carmax's site, you'll find that there are more models from Toyota's Scion sub-brand than Mercury, Saab, Pontiac, Hummer, and Saturn combined. This despite the fact that these brands collectively sold in the millions over the last ten years while Scion has rarely been able to realize a six-figure annual sales figure for most of its history. That is the brutal truth of today's car market. When the chips are down, used-car shoppers are nearly as conservative as their new-car-buying counterparts. Unfamiliarity breeds contempt. Contempt leads to fear. Fear leads to anger, and pretty soon you wind up with an older, beat-up Mazda MX-5 in your driveway instead of looking up a newer Pontiac Solstice or Saturn Sky. There are tons of other reasons why orphan cars have trouble selling in today's market. Worries about the cost of repair and the availability of parts hang over the industry's lost toys like a cloud of dust over Pigpen. Yet any common diagnostic repair database, such as Alldata, will have a complete framework for your car's repair and maintenance, and everyone from junkyards to auto parts stores to eBay and Amazon stock tens of thousands of parts. This makes some orphan cars mindblowingly awesome deals if you're willing to shop in the bargain bins of the used-car market. Consider a Suzuki Kizashi with a manual transmission. No, really.

Steve McQueen barn find: Movie Trans Am surfaces after almost 40 years

An important Steve McQueen film car has emerged from barn storage. No, it's not yet another " Bullitt" Mustang, quite the contrary: The car in question is a 1980 Pontiac Trans Am, and it starred in McQueen's final film, " The Hunter." In the movie, McQueen plays a bounty hunter, and while in " Bullitt" he's quite the wheelman, that's not the case in this one. McQueen's character, "Papa" Thorson, is a horrible driver, and the Trans Am is far too much car for him. A chase sequence sees McQueen driving a combine harvester to catch the perps who are driving his stolen rental Pontiac, and the Trans Am ends up blown in half with dynamite, then returned to the airport on a trailer. The driver of said GMC truck and trailer combination, Harold McQueen (no relation), received the title of the first car used in filming, and for the following decades planned to fix the now-ruined car, but never got around to it. Instead, the 1,300-mile Pontiac wreck sat on a farm for nearly 40 years, until Harold decided to sell it to an enthusiast. There's studio documentation proving the car's pedigree, and stunt modifications can be seen in the Pontiac's floor and dash. While it's obviously in dreadful condition, the car remained more intact than the other stunt car the film crew blew up even more spectacularly — that car ended up as the pile of parts in the airport scene, and those bits and pieces were eventually dropped off at a junkyard after a Pontiac dealer refused them. McQueen did also drive a 1951 Chevrolet in the film, and kept that yellow convertible after filming was wrapped up. Sadly, he was diagnosed with cancer just a month later, after reportedly being in poor health during the shooting, and passed away in December 1980. The yellow Chevy stayed with his estate for some years, later getting restored and auctioned. Right now, it's not clear what the Trans Am's fate will be. The car's current owner, Calvin Riggs from Carlyle Motors in Katy, Texas, wants to know more about the Trans Am and the film shoot: His post on Hemmings includes a lot of information, but more would be useful. Related Video:

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.