2004 Grand Prix Gtp Supercharged on 2040-cars

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Vitruvian Energy crowdfunding to make EEB, a trashy biofuel

When sewage is treated at a wastewater treatment facility, biosolids are the byproduct. After being separated from the water, biosolids are usually sent to a landfill or incinerated. That doesn't mean that they're without value, however. Vitruvian Energy has created a process to make a usable fuel out of this human waste product, and while the source is pretty gross, it is undeniably abundant, and the results are much cleaner. EEB can be made for less than $4 a gallon. In a process that Vitruvian Energy claims is energy efficient, biosolids are femented and introduced to a type of bacteria to create PHA plastic. Reacting the PHA with ethanol creates the ethyl-3-ethoxybutyrate (EEB) biofuel. Vitruvian says EEB can be blended up to 20 percent with gasoline or diesel without any engine modifications. This lowers the carbon footprint of the fuel it's blended into, and serves to oxygenate diesel, leading to fewer harmful emissions. EEB can also be made using other organic waste products, such as corn stover, rice straw and distillers grains. EEB can be made for less than $4 a gallon and isn't subject to the maddening market fluctuations and international politics of fossil fuels. Furthermore, EEB's carbon footprint is 70 percent less than that of fossil fuels. Vitruvian also sees potential for EEB to be used on its own to power vehicles or burned to produce electricity for the grid. So far, Vitruvian Energy has used grants from the California Energy Commission and National Science Foundation to develop EEB, and has tested the fuel in a Pontiac Solstice at Oak Ridge National Laboratory. Now, Vitruvian is wants to test EEB on a larger scale in the real world in order to prove EEB's viability to interested parties in the wastewater treatment industry. In an Indiegogo crowdfunding campaign, Vitruvian Energy hopes to raise $200,000 to build a prototype EEB production line and to run a test vehicle for a year on an EEB-diesel blend on the streets of Seattle. Donors can score some interesting perks such as shirts and bumper stickers that say "Get Clean with Poopaline." Learn more about EEB in the video and press release below. This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings.

Pontiac and McLaren once hooked up, and it was rad

Most of us would bend over backwards to have a chance to own a McLaren car, but few can afford such extravagance. That said, there’s a way you can get behind the wheel of a legitimate McLaren without breaking the bank. For 1989 and 1990, the Pontiac Grand Prix was offered in a limited-edition ASC-McLaren variant that featured tuning and updates from the iconic British automaker. Examples of this rare coupe rarely surface for sale, so itÂ’s surprising to see this low-mile 1990 Pontiac Grand Prix ASC-McLaren on eBay. The car is the result of a partnership between American Specialty Cars-McLaren (ASC-McLaren) and Pontiac. WeÂ’re not talking about the McLaren Formula 1 team or even the iconic McLaren road cars here. The McLaren connection comes from an arm of the automakerÂ’s powertrain engineering department. The Grand PrixÂ’s standard 3,1-liter V6 got a massage and a turbocharger, adding 65 horsepower for a total of 205 ponies and 225 pound-feet of torque. A four-speed automatic transmission sends power to the front wheels. That output is modest by todayÂ’s standards, and it wasnÂ’t outrageous even by 1990 standards, but the car returned a decent 0-60 mph time of around 7 seconds. The $5,000 ASC-McLaren package added a load of cool 1980s tech to the Grand PrixÂ’s interior, some of which is surprisingly advanced for the time. The car got a head-up display and a digital display on the dash. The steering wheel should be delightfully familiar to anyone who remembers a top-end Pontiac of the era, with the entire center of the wheel filled with buttons instead of the airbags we see today. The car had insanely padded bucket seats front and rear(!) with a distinctive pear shape.  Many sources peg production numbers between 2,500 and 3,500 units, so the car is relatively rare compared to its mass-produced Pontiac counterparts. This oneÂ’s got just 17,746 miles on the clock, too, and appears to be in excellent condition. ItÂ’s had just two owners and no reported accidents. The seller notes a little surface rust from the car being in storage so long. This era of GM cars tended to deteriorate quickly, so a bit of surface rust shouldnÂ’t be a huge issue. Related video: This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings.

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.