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Junkyard Gem: 2007 Pontiac G6 GT Convertible

GM's Pontiac Division sold its first convertibles during the 1927 model year (just a year after the division's creation), then proceeded to offer memorable drop-tops for most of the following 83 years. The best-selling convertible to bear Pontiac badges during our current century was the retractable-hardtop-equipped G6, available from the G6's introduction in 2006 through the second-to-last model year of 2009 (the Sunfire convertible was available just through 2000, while the Firebird convertible vanished with the demise of the slow-selling Firebird itself after 2002). Here's one of those G6 GT convertibles, found in a Denver-region boneyard after a crash ended its driving career. Mashed right front, popped airbags. This sort of damage might have been worth repairing in 2009, but not today. The 2007 G6 was available as a coupe, sedan, or convertible. All the convertibles had the GT trim level and the 3.5-liter V6 and its 224 horsepower. The MSRP on this car was $28,750 (about $42,325 in 2022 dollars), making it the most expensive G6. The power hardtop roof folded up into the trunk, leaving 1.8 cubic feet of trunk storage space with the top down. This Karmann-designed roof system made the interior much quieter than that of a traditional soft-top convertible. All G6s were built at Orion Assembly in Michigan, where Chevy Bolts are born today. The G6 was built through the 2010 model year, making it one of the very last Pontiac models (the Vibe also made it to 2010, though it was really a Toyota Matrix). In hindsight, 2007 turned out to be an ominous year for GM. 

Junkyard Gem: 1991 Pontiac 6000 LE

Sibling to the Chevrolet Celebrity and Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera, the Pontiac 6000 sold pretty well during the early-to-middle 1980s, but had been relegated to the dealership bargain bin and fleet-car cul-de-sac by the time of Operation Desert Shield. Here's a final-year-of-manufacture 6000 LE that I photographed in an Arizona self-service wrecking yard. This car was sold new in Arizona, and it will be crushed in the same state, 26 years later. The LE was the cheapest trim level for the 6000 in 1991, but the original purchaser of this car sprang for a few options. For example, instead of the utterly miserable 2.5-liter Iron Duke four-cylinder, this car packs the 3.1-liter V6. That meant 140 horsepower instead of 110, plus an engine note more like a vacuum cleaner sucking up a spaghetti spill than an ailing blender chewing on walnuts. AM, FM, and cassette. Not only that, but the auto-reverse feature meant that your mixtape cassette wouldn't stop right in the middle of your favorite Roxette tune. This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. Even the wretched Daewoo-built Pontiac LeMans gets more screen time than the forgotten 6000 in this 1991 TV ad featuring the voice of Captain Picard. Featured Gallery Junked 1991 Pontiac 6000 View 15 Photos Auto News Pontiac Automotive History Sedan

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.