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GM’s move to Woodward is the right one — for the company and for Detroit

Back in 2018, Chevy invited me to attend the Detroit Auto Show on the company dime to get an early preview of the then-newly redesigned Silverado. The trip involved a stay at the Renaissance Center — just a quick People Mover ride from the show. IÂ’d been visiting Detroit in January for nearly a decade, and not once had I set foot inside General MotorsÂ’ glass-sided headquarters. I was intrigued, to say the least. Thinking back on my time in the buildings that GM will leave behind when it departs for the new Hudson's site on Woodward Avenue, two things struck me. For one, its hotel rooms are cold in January. Sure, itÂ’s glass towers designed in the 1960s and '70s; I calibrated my expectations accordingly. But when I could only barely see out of the place for all the ice forming on the inside of the glass, it drove home just how flawed this iconic structure is.  My second and more pertinent observation was that the RenCen doesnÂ’t really feel like itÂ’s in a city at all, much less one as populous as Detroit. The complex is effectively severed from its surroundings by swirling ribbons of both river and asphalt. To the west sits the Windsor tunnel entrance; to the east, parking lots for nearly as far as the eye can see. To its north is the massive Jefferson Avenue and to its south, the Detroit River. You get the sense that if Henry Ford II and his team of investors had gotten their way, the whole thing would have been built offshore with the swirling channel doubling as a moat. This isnÂ’t a building the draws the city in; itÂ’s one designed to keep it out. Frost on the inside of the RenCen hotel glass. Contrasted with the new Hudson's project GM intends to move into, a mixed-use anchor with residential, office, retail and entertainment offerings smack-dab in Detroit's most vibrant district, the RenCen is a symbol of an era when each office in DetroitÂ’s downtown was an island in a rising sea of dilapidation. Back then, those who fortified against the rapid erosion of DetroitÂ’s urban bedrock stood the best chance of surviving. This was the era that brought us ugly skyways and eventually the People Mover — anything to help suburban commuters keep their metaphorical feet dry. The RenCen offered — and still offers — virtually any necessity and plenty of nice-to-haves, all accessible without ever venturing outside, especially in the winter, but those enticements are geared to those who trek in from suburbia to toil in its hallways.

We really want to use an eCrate to restomod an old GM car. Here's what we'd build

You hopefully saw the news today of GM's introduction of its Connect and Cruise eCrate motor and battery package, which effectively makes the Bolt's electric motor, battery pack and myriad other elements available to, ah, bolt into a different vehicle. It's the same concept as installing a gasoline-powered crate motor into a classic car, but with electricity and stuff.  This, of course, got us thinking about what we'd stuff the eCrate into. Before we got too ahead of ourselves, however, we discovered that the eCrate battery pack is literally the Bolt EV pack in not only capacity but size and shape. In other words, you need to have enough space in the vehicle to place and/or stuff roughly 60% of a Chevy Bolt's length. It's not a big car, but that's still an awful lot of real estate. There's a reason GM chose to simply plop the pack into the bed and cargo area of old full-size SUVs. Well that, and having a rear suspension beefy enough to handle about 1,000 pounds of batteries.  So after that buzz kill, we still wanted to peruse the GM back catalog for classics we'd love to see transformed into an electric restomod that might be able to swallow all that battery ... maybe ... possibly ... whatever, saws and blow torches exist for a reason.  1971 Buick Riviera Consumer Editor Jeremy Korzeniewski: If you’re going to build an electric conversion, why not do it with style? ThatÂ’s why IÂ’m choosing a 1971-1973 Buick Riviera. You know, the one with the big glass boat-tail rear end that ends in a pointy V. Being a rather large vehicle with a big sloping fastback shape, IÂ’m hoping thereÂ’s enough room in the trunk and back seat to pack in the requisite battery pack. That would likely require cutting away some of the metal bulkhead that supports the rear seatback, but not so much that a wee bit of structural bracing couldnÂ’t shore things up. The big 455-cubic-inch Buick V8 up front will obviously have to go. Remember, this was the 1970s, so despite all that displacement, the Riviera only had around 250 horsepower (depending on the year and the trim level). So the electric motorÂ’s 200 horsepower and 266 pound-feet of torque ought to work as an acceptable replacement.   1982 Chevrolet S10 Associate Editor Byron Hurd: OK, so the name "E-10" is already taken by a completely different truck, but let's not let labels get in the way of a fun idea.

Cadillac may not build Elmiraj coupe

Despite the fact that most everyone who has laid eyes on the Cadillac Elmiraj concept coupe loves it, General Motors insiders are still trying to prove the business case to build the car. And it's certainly not a guarantee.
"I want to see this car go into production badly. Very badly," Ed Welburn, GM's Global Head of Design, told Autoblog. But the Cadillac design studio is busier than it's ever been before, and the company is working on prioritizing which cars deserve to get the billion-dollar price tag needed to research and develop a new model.
No matter what happens, Welburn says the car has made its mark on Cadillac