Gxp-manual Transmission-low Mileage-clean Carfax-we Finance, Take Trades & Ship! on 2040-cars

Auto blog

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.

Burt Reynolds' movie re-creations fetch $379,500 in Vegas

The recent death of Hollywood legend and automotive enthusiast Burt Reynolds helped drive up the value of four of his former cars from the 1970s and '80s, which sold last weekend at Barrett-Jackson's Las Vegas auction for a combined $379,500. Reynolds, who died Sept. 6 at age 82, had offered three Pontiac Trans Ams — two of them re-creations of the cars he drove in "Smokey and the Bandit" and "Hooper" and the third from 1984 used to promote his United States Football League team, the Tampa Bay Bandits. The fourth was a 1978 Chevrolet R30 pickup truck, styled like the one featured in "Cannonball Run." The "Bandit" re-creation, a 1978 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am that Reynolds ordered to be as "movie-correct" as possible but featuring a custom-built 200-4R automatic transmission, sold for $192,500. The car features a freshly built Pontiac 400 cubic-inch V8 mated to a four-speed automatic and featuring all-new Butler Performance parts and air-conditioning components. Reynolds reportedly said this was his favorite car from his films, and it even came with an authentic movie-correct CB radio and CB antenna. The red retro-rocket "Hooper" '78 Firebird, with a 403 cubic-inch V8 and a three-speed automatic, hammered for $88,000. By comparison, a gold 1978 Trans Am also offered at the Las Vegas auction but not connected to Reynolds fetched $27,500. The 1987 Chevy R30 pickup was a re-creation of the Indy Hauler pace truck seen jumping over a moving freight train in "Cannonball Run." It hammered for $49,500. The fourth car never appeared in any of Reynolds' films but is instead the only surviving example of two Trans Ams used to promote the Tampa Bay Bandits of the now-defunct USFL, having been driven out onto the field by Reynolds and his late friend and co-star, Jerry Reed, during opening day one season. It also sold for $49,500. At the Barrett-Jackson Scottsdale Auction in 2016, Reynolds accompanied a 1977 Trans Am used to promote "Bandit" onto the auction block. That car sold for $550,000. Related Video: Featured Gallery Burt Reynolds 2018 Barrett-Jackson Las Vegas Auction Image Credit: Barrett-Jackson Celebrities Chevrolet Pontiac Truck Coupe Performance celebrity pontiac trans am pontiac firebird burt reynolds

Looking Back At Oprah's Free-Car Giveaway 10 Years Later

Molly Vielweber's Pontiac G6 appears unremarkable at first glance. It wears forest green paint, rolls on five-spoke aluminum wheels, and it has a sizeable scrape in the driver's side door, the scar of a decade's worth of hard use. You wouldn't notice it parked at a big box store or cruising on the highway. Pontiac made hundreds of thousands of G6s in the 2000s, and a lot are still on the road. It's unremarkable in every way except for the front license plate, which reads, "Oprah 6." But this is not just any G6. This car is a part of television history. Vielweber won her G6 10 years ago at a taping of The Oprah Winfrey Show, when Oprah kicked off her 19th season in dramatic fashion by giving all 276 members of the studio audience a free car. It was an unprecedented stunt that changed lives, generated controversy and ultimately failed to provide enough of a marketing lift for Pontiac, which would be shuttered just over five years later. September 13 marks the 10-year anniversary of the memorable event, which caught everyone, including audience members, by surprise. In a masterful display of showmanship, Oprah dialed up the suspense to match the enormity – and cost – of the event. First she gave away 11 cars, which would have been a landmark TV promotion by itself. But then she coyly announced: "I've got a little twist." Models circulated throughout the audience carrying silver platters loaded with white boxes wrapped in red ribbon. One contained a set of keys, Oprah implied, for another audience member to win the final car. "Do not open it. Do not shake it," she commanded the crowd. Finally, with the suspense built to a fevered pitch, everyone opened their box. They all had keys. "You get a car! You get a car! You get a car! You get a car! Everybody gets a car!" Oprah exclaimed. "Everybody gets a car! Everybody gets a car!" This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. Everybody did get a car. But not everyone kept it. William Toebe attended the show with his wife, Jillaine, and he immediately thought of the tax implications, which stretched to $6,000 or more for some audience members. It was a tough reality for many in the audience that day, some of which had been selected based on their need for a new car. "That responsible part of me stepped forward and wondered 'where am I going to get the money to pay the taxes?'" he recalled.