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Junkyard Gem: 2001 Pontiac Grand Prix GTP

John DeLorean began his career working on Packard's Ultramatic Twin transmission, but he made his greatest mark on the automotive industry during his 1956-1969 tenure at GM's Pontiac Division. There, he helped develop the first production car engine with a quiet timing belt instead of a noisy chain, among other engineering feats, but his real fame came from the development of two money-printing models based more on marketing than machinery: the GTO and the Grand Prix. While the GTO gets all the attention now, the Grand Prix set the standard for the big-selling personal luxury coupes that sold like mad for decades to come. Today's Junkyard Gem is an example of the most powerful Grand Prix available at the turn of the century, found in a Denver-area self-service yard during the summer. The Grand Prix got front-wheel-drive for 1988 and a sedan version for 1990, but then something very beneficial happened in the 1997 model year: supercharging! Various flavors of the venerable 3.8-liter Buick V6 engine (itself based on the early-1960s Buick 215 V8 and thus cousin to the Rover V8) received Eaton blowers, starting in the 1992 model year. The Grand Prix didn't get its introduction to forced induction until the 1997 model year, but it kept the boosted option until the final Grand Prix rolled off the line in 2008 (the final Pontiac followed within a couple of years). This one made 240 horsepower, making it King of Grand Prix engines until the 2005 model year (when the GXP and its 303-horse V8 engine showed up). The very last year for a Grand Prix with a manual transmission was 1993 (there had been a three-pedal Grand Prix drought from 1973 through 1988, just to put things in perspective), so this car has the mandatory four-speed automatic. The Grand Prix lived on GM's W platform for its last two decades, making it sibling to the Impala, Regal, and Intrigue in 2001. Until the 2004 model year, every W-Body Grand Prix was built at Fairfax Assembly in Kansas City (no, the other Kansas City). Production of the final generation of Grand Prix took place in Ontario. It seems fitting that this car's final pre-crusher parking spot would be between two other GM products of the same era: a Monte Carlo and a Vibe. Related Video: This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings.

World's only 1964 Pontiac XP-833 Banshee coupe for sale by Kia dealer

It seems like there has been a spate of especially odd car sales in the first part of this especially odd year, from the numerous barn finds and homebrew specials to the time capsule cars — like the BMW wrapped in a protective bubble for 23 years. Napoli Kia in Milford, Connecticut, brings us another, via Motor1. Len Napoli is the dealership principal and die-hard Pontiac maven; his father opened Napoli Pontiac in 1958, and Len held onto the franchise until the early 2000s, just before GM shuttered the brand that built excitement. Napoli got hold of the 1964 Pontiac Banshee XP-833 coupe concept, and put the car up for sale through his Kia dealership for $750,000. The exceptional price comes from the fact that Pontiac built two Banshee concepts in 1964, one this silver coupe with a red interior, the other a white roadster, making each concept a one-of-one collector car.      Motor Trend wrote a detailed piece on this one in 2013, the editorial tour hosted by Bill Collins, the Banshee's lead engineer. The short story is that GM exec John Z. DeLorean — yes, him —  gave approval to a small crew at Pontiac to create a two-seater sports car to compete with the Mustang, because GM had nothing to fend off the four-seat coupe that would sell one million units in just 18 months on the market. Collins and his team took inspiration from the 1963 Corvair Monza GT concept, working up a fiberglass body over a steel frame, with a 230-cubic-inch overhead-cam straight-six producing 165 horsepower and 216 pound-feet of torque, a four-speed manual transmission, and 9.5-inch drum brakes at all corners. The idea was that the XP-833 would be "an affordable and fun two-seat sports car," the concept demonstrating the base-model price leader offering a lengthy list of options for those who wanted more. The white roadster, in fact, fitted a 326 cubic-inch V8 under the hood. Rumor says that Chevrolet execs didn't like having another two-seater sports car in the GM fold, especially one with a fiberglass body that held weight down to 2,200 pounds. GM execs took one look at the two concepts in 1965 and shut the project down. The two XP-833s lived in a garage for years, Collins and his colleague Bill Killen getting permission to buy the cars from GM in 1973 before Collins left to help engineer the DeLorean DMC-12. It wasn't until just before Collins departed that the XP-333 got the name Banshee.

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.