1997 Saab 9000 Cse Turbo Hatchback 4-door 2.3l Rare Great Car on 2040-cars

Auto blog

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.

Celebrate Volvo's 89th birthday with some neat facts

Volvo, arguably Sweden's best-known non-ABBA export, will celebrate the big 9-0 next year. The company has always operated somewhat under the radar, but it has its share of stories to tell despite an image formed by decades of solid, safe, and sensible cars. To celebrate the occasion, here are five lesser-known facts about Sweden's last remaining car brand. 1. It opened North America's first foreign car plant. Idyllic Halifax was a small fishing city of about a quarter-million in the early 1960s when Volvo arrived and became the first import brand to build cars en masse in North America. American consumers on the East Coast developed a fondness for the Volvo Amazon line in the late 1950s, leading Volvo to seek out a plant in the Americas. Halifax ponied up incentives, allowing Volvo to take advantage of a pact eliminating tariffs on cars built and exported between the United States and Canada. Volvo built cars there until the end of 1998, when it said its facility was no longer viable compared to larger factories in Europe. That brings us to The Netherlands, where Volvo bought a quirky, innovative automaker that once sold a car called the Daffodil (which was actually its luxury model). 2. You can thank Volvo for CVTs – even though it doesn't use them. Volvo wasn't interested in picking flowers. It wanted the automotive arm of truck manufacturer DAF, which would include its assembly plant, its Renault engines, and the first mainstream application of the CVT gearbox. Volvo acquired DAF's car business over the course of a few years in the early 1970s and, in typical Volvo safety-oriented style, it slapped big bumpers and head restraints on the little DAF 66 and rebadged it as the Volvo 66. The Dutch assembly plant would grow to include a partnership with Mitsubishi in the early '90s. Today, it operates as NedCar and builds Mini Coopers for BMW. Volvo is no longer involved in NedCar or DAF (which sold its CVT division to Bosch, by the way), but its acquisition of DAF helped ensure the success of CVTs. Ironically, even though Volvo's investment helped make CVTs mainstream, the Swedish automaker's affair with them was brief, and today it utilizes only conventional automatics. 3. The Swedish carmakers were pals. Over its 89 years, Volvo has been closely connected to a number of automakers – most notably Ford, which ran the company for a decade, and its current owner Geely. But Volvo is most closely linked to its longtime competitor, Saab.

Saab owners NEVS denied creditor protection by Swedish court

The story of Saab is practically a Greek tragedy at this point. The quirky Swedish automaker that was once known as a pioneer of affordable turbocharging has been followed by years of news that just seemed to keep getting worse. At this point, maybe the brand name should be allowed to fade away into the ether and be remembered for the good times that it gave us.
Saab's latest predicament is that its parent National Electric Vehicle Sweden (or NEVS) has been denied protection from its creditors by the Swedish courts. According to Reuters, the judges called the business' financing plan "vague and completely undocumented." A company spokesperson told Reuters that it plans to appeal.
Seemingly in reaction to the court's decision, NEVS posted a press release on its website announcing that the company had applied "for a reorganization to create more time for the ongoing negotiations." The automaker continues to claim that it's negotiating with two global automakers to sell a portion of the company, possibly Mahindra, but the process is taking longer than it originally predicted. It seems a distinct possibility that this reorganization attempt is simply a way to buy extra time.