1966 Pontiac Gto on 2040-cars

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Junkyard Gem: 1984 Pontiac Fiero with supercharged 3800 V6 swap

Like the Corvair, the Vega, and the Citation, the Pontiac Fiero was a very innovative machine that ended up causing General Motors more headaches than happiness, and Fiero aficionados and naysayers continue to beat each other with tire irons (figuratively speaking, I hope) to this day. The General has often proved willing to take the occasional big gamble and huge GM successes in engineering prowess (including the first overhead-valve V8 engine for the masses and the first real-world-usable true automatic transmission) and marketing brilliance (e.g., the Pontiac GTO and related John DeLorean home runs) meant that the idea of a mid-engined sporty economy car (or economical sports car) got a shot from the suits on the 14th floor. Sadly, the Fiero ended up being the marketplace victim of too many issues to get into here, and The General pulled the plug immediately after the 1988-model-year suspension redesign that made the Fiero the sports car it should have been all along. But what if the plastic Pontiac had never suffered from the misery of the gnashy, pokey Iron Duke engine and had been built from the start with a screaming supercharged V6 making way better than 200 horsepower? The final owner of today's Junkyard Gem sought to make that very Fiero, by dropping in one of the many supercharged 3.8-liter V6s installed in 1990s and 2000s GM factory hot rods. The first Fieros came out in 1983 for model year 1984, and the only engine available that year was the Iron Duke 2.5-liter four-cylinder, which generated its 92 horsepower with the full-throated song of a Soviet tractor stuck in the freezing mud of a Polish sugar-beet field. The 2M4 badging stood for "two seats, mid-engine, four cylinders," just as the numbers in the Oldsmobile 4-4-2 once represented "four carburetor barrels, four-speed manual transmission, dual exhaust." This car is a top-trim-level SE model, which listed for $9,599 (about $24,200 today). The no-frills Fiero cost just $7,999 that year, making these cars far cheaper than the only other reasonably affordable new mid-engined car Americans could buy at that time: the $13,990 Bertone (aka Fiat) X1/9. The Toyota MR2 appeared in North America as a 1985 model with a base price of $10,999 and promptly siphoned off the car-buying cash from a bunch of potential Fiero shoppers.

A case for Pontiac's return

Sadly, many brands have disappeared off of the automotive landscape over the decades. Many people have imagined over the years of restarting defunct automotive brands. A few of those dreamers even made prototypes to shop around and to established connections with investors. But, alas poor Yorick, however valiant an effort, many brands are shuttered for good, rarely to be heard of again except in historical tales or maybe seen in car shows. So, what do you do when you win the lottery? Not just any lottery... In fact, it is a lottery that takes care of you and your loved ones for life? You and your family don't have to work, ever. You can give to charity, pay other people to do those projects that you've been putting off, and so on and so on. But, you're still a Car Nut right? There begins the conundrum. Do you buy and fix cars, new premium cars, old muscle cars, or classics, or maybe, just maybe, do you buy the rights to an old departed automotive brand and bring it back to life. Hmm. Which brand? The problem with the old Pontiac was that it was an additional badge engineered vehicle in the portfolio of GM. The meant the brand was diluted by competition from its own parent company, in addition to the competition outside the camp. So, if it were to come back, it would have to be different. Yet, it would still need to keep true to its roots at the same time in order to wake up its armies of existing fans. Even those that aren't fans of Pontiac cannot deny that Pontiac has a long heritage of legendary vehicles. So do Packard, and Studebaker, and others. So, why would a lottery winner choose Pontiac as the marque to bring back? That's easy! Pontiac's long heritage is closely tied to performance vehicles that made many of a teenager drool. Even more important though is that Pontiac is still fresh on people's minds. The brand itself is only recently departed. So, Boomers, Generation X, and Millenials all would all be able to identify with it as opposed to brand names that disappeared multiple decades ago and that now have a more limited appeal. The return of Pontiac couldn't just be another launch of a badge engineered vehicle. It would have to be performance oriented, yes. But, it would have to be unique in some way, a niche brand. What niche though? Look at the automotive landscape now and you see that Tesla is the one out there grabbing at the wide open electric niche with success.

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.