1997 Saab 900 Turbo Hatchback on 2040-cars

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Saab didn't want this electric, 99-like delivery van from the 1970s

National Electric Vehicle Sweden (NEVS) purchased the remains of Saab in 2012 to turn it into an electric-only brand. While its vast heritage is turbocharged and rooted in racing, Saab didn't shy away from dabbling in battery-powered drivetrains, and there's an experimental mail delivery van in its official museum to prove it. The name Saab in the last paragraph should be followed by an asterisk. The prototype kind of looks like a 99 when viewed from the front, and it wears the soccer ball-style alloy wheels seen on several of the brand's models during the 1970s, but the museum's curator told Autoblog it was built in Linkoping, Sweden, by the company's defense and plane-making division. It's certainly a Saab, but not quite the kind you're likely thinking of. Engineers began the project in the early 1970s, at about the same time archrival Volvo launched its own experiments in the field of electrification. The idea was to create an electric, short-range distribution van that could be used by Sweden's postal service, for example. Two prototypes were built in 1975 and 1976, including the example in the museum, and each had a low-speed driving range of about 40 miles. Additional technical specifications are lost to history, partly because Saab's car-building division in Trollhattan -- the folks that developed the 99 and the 900, among others -- didn't like the van at all and wanted nothing to do with it. Saab electric van prototype View 2 Photos We peeked inside and under it and spotted a bulky, lead-acid battery pack integrated into a tray that could be pulled out from the back after flipping up the panel onto which part of the rear bumper was mounted. This layout was relatively common in early electric prototypes, like the Bus that Volkswagen developed in 1972 and tested in select German cities. Recharging the battery pack took hours, so swapping it out was considered the more practical alternative. Period documents and images confirm the electronics were mounted under the hood. Saab made two electric prototypes, including one it fitted with front-end parts like headlights (complete with wipers), turn signals, and a plastic grille from a 99. The second wore round headlights, bullet-shaped turn signals, and looked more like something you'd see in an episode of "Scooby Doo" than what you'd find in a Saab showroom. The van's resemblance to the 99 was purely artificial; it was its own thing, on its own chassis.

Petrolicious keeps our love of the Saab Sonett aflame

German auto designs lean toward function and purpose. Italian designers deliver passion and beauty. The Brits, majesty. American cars, brashness and authority. If you want a funky design, though, you go to Sweden. The land of cheap, do-it-yourself furniture and delicious meatballs knows a thing or six about style and design, and while that character is only now reemerging thanks to a certain string of Volvo concepts, it use to be that Saab was the authority on penning some of the industry's more unique designs.
Take the beautiful Sonett for example - a small coupe whose appearance is a funky mishmash of a Porsche 911 and a Bugeyed Sprite with just a hint of a Citroën DS (it's that convex rear window). It's a positively striking car, made more unique by its two-stroke, three-cylinder powertrain and four-on-the-tree manual transmission. With just 70 horsepower hauling about 1,500 pounds of Swedish style, the Sonett strikes us as an ideal alternative to some of the English sports cars of its day, particularly for those that are looking for something beyond your average MG or Triumph.
For Glenn Roberts, the Sonett was a part of his childhood. His family owned example was originally a special-order item by his parents in 1967. He bought the car from them 13 years later and has never looked back, completing a restoration in 2004. With a story like that, it's not surprising that Roberts and his silver Sonett are the most recent pairing to get some attention from Petrolicious.

Junkyard Gem: 1971 Saab 96

Americans could buy the very first mass-produced Saab car, the 92, all the way back in 1950. Few did, because a tiny and odd-looking Swedish car with a smoky two-stroke engine buzzing out 25 horsepower didn't seem suitable for highway use, especially when a new Plymouth business coupe sold for $1,371 (about $15,180 today). Then came the 93, notable to Americans mostly for being sold by novelist Kurt Vonnegut's Saab dealership in Massachusetts. The first Saab to win over respectable numbers of American car shoppers was the 96, introduced here for the 1961 model year. North American 96 sales continued through 1973, and I've managed to find one of the later 96s in a junkyard located near Pikes Peak in Colorado. North American sales of the much less oddball 99 began in the 1969 model year, and that car evolved directly into the original 900 that sold very well through the early 1990s. Still, some Americans living in icy regions stayed loyal to the 96, so Saab kept selling 96s here until federal emissions and safety regulations made such sales unprofitable. Meanwhile, Scandinavians could buy new 96s all the way through 1980. My grandfather, a self-taught engineer who set foot outside the city limits of St. Paul, Minn., only to race Corvettes at Elkhart Lake (in summer) and all manner of rust-prone imports on frozen lakes (in winter), had this Saab 96 when I was a kid. The somewhat uneven bodywork near street level is the result of house-paint-over-Bondo corrosion repairs, and I recall going on some terrifying high-speed rides around town with Grandpa, circa 1975, watching the pavement flash by through the holes in the floor as we headed to the VFW for the meat raffle. Hey, the St. Paul VFW had Grain Belt on tap for cheap, a consolation for those who failed to win any meat. After that, a man could take his Saab to an establishment selling authentic St. Paul booya. As I recall, this Saab finally broke in half at an ice race in the late 1970s and got replaced by a slightly less rusty Rabbit. The serious Saab 96 nuts— including my grandfather— preferred the two-stroke three-cylinder engine, due to its chainsaw racket and allegedly superior performance on ice. By 1969, however, a Ford-produced V4 became the only powerplant available in a new 96 on our shores (the V4 had been an option for a couple of years prior to that). Someone grabbed the 65-horsepower V4 before I reached this car.