2002 Mercury Sable Wagon Ls Premium, Leather, Power Windows & Locks We Finance! on 2040-cars

Auto blog

Car Stories: Owning the SHO station wagon that could've been

A little over a year ago, I bought what could be the most interesting car I will ever own. It was a 1987 Mercury Sable LS station wagon. Don't worry – there's much more to this story. I've always had a soft spot for wagons, and I still remember just how revolutionary the Ford Taurus and Mercury Sable were back in the mid-1980s. As a teenager, I fell especially hard for the 220-horsepower 1989 Ford Taurus SHO – so much so that I'd go on to own a dozen over the next 20 years. And like many other quirky enthusiasts, I always wondered what a SHO station wagon would be like. That changed last year when I bought the aforementioned Sable LS wagon, festooned with the high-revving DOHC 3.0-liter V6 engine and five-speed manual transmission from a 1989 Taurus SHO. In addition, the wagon had SHO front seats, a SHO center console, and the 140-mph instrument cluster with mileage that matched the engine. When I bought it, that number was just under 60,000 – barely broken in for the overachieving Yamaha-sourced mill. The engine and transmission weren't the only upgrades. It wore dual-piston PBR brakes with the choice Eibach/Tokico suspension combo in front. The rear featured SHO disc brakes with MOOG cargo coils and Tokico shocks, resulting in a wagon that handled ridiculously well while still retaining a decent level of comfort and five-door functionality. I could attack the local switchbacks while rowing gears to a 7,000-rpm soundtrack just as easily as loading up on lumber at the hardware store. Over time I added a front tower brace to stiffen things a bit as well as a bigger, 73-mm mass airflow sensor for better breathing, and I sourced some inexpensive 2004 Taurus 16-inch five-spoke wheels, refinished in gunmetal to match the two-tone white/gunmetal finish on the car. That, along with some minor paint and body work, had me winning trophies at every car show in town. And yet, what I loved most about the car wasn't its looks or performance, but rather its history. And here's where things also get a little philosophical, because I absolutely, positively love old used cars. Don't get me wrong – new cars are great. Designers can sculpt a timeless automotive shape, and engineers can construct systems and subsystems to create an exquisite chassis with superb handling and plenty of horsepower. But it's the age and mileage that turn machines into something more than the sum of their parts.

Junkyard Gem: 1979 Mercury Marquis 2-Door Sedan

As the creator of the now-much-overused term "Malaise Era" (which I say started in 1973 and ended in 1983, full stop), I have a certain affection for the big two-door Detroit cars of the late 1970s. When such a car is built on the very first model year of Ford's long-lived Panther platform and I find one in a junkyard, I must document it. The 1979 Mercury Marquis is such a car, and this one was found in a San Francisco Bay Area self-service yard last month. Since Ford built the Grand Marquis all the way through the demise of the Panther platform— and Mercury itself— in 2011, it's easy for us to forget that the model name started out as just the plain old Marquis, back in the 1967 model year, with the Grand appellation used for the car's top trim level. While today's Junkyard Gem has some of the features of the Grand Marquis and Marquis Brougham trim levels for 1979 (notably the padded vinyl landau roof and power windows), it lacks the huge chrome lower-body moldings of those cars. Instead, it's a regular Marquis 2-door sedan with a big load of expensive options. That landau roof has suffered greatly from its decades beneath the vinyl-disintegrating California sun. The Panther platform was a big technological upgrade from the late-1950s-vintage chassis technology of full-sized Fords of the 1960s and 1970s, and it stayed in front-line service in much the same form through 2011. Though its ride and handling were much improved, the 1979 Marquis was quite a bit smaller than its predecessors, and that caused some grumbling among Mercury shoppers. Some ham-handed junkyard shoppers really tore up the interior of this car while extracting a few bits and pieces, but we can still admire the Pine Green pleather of the glorious Twin Comfort Lounge front seats. You had two engine choices when buying a new '79 Marquis: the base 302-cubic-inch (5.0-liter) Windsor V8 making 129 horsepower or the optional 351-cubic-inch (5.8-liter) Windsor V8 rated at 138 horsepower. This one appears to be the 351, the same engine as had been swapped into the pizza-delivery Mercury I drove in the middle 1980s. New cars sold in California around this time had these giant emissions-numbers stickers on the side glass. Later, they went on the underside of the hood.

Junkyard Gem: 1955 Mercury Montclair Coupe

I find plenty of 1950s Detroit vehicles in the big self-service car graveyards I frequent, but most of them are fairly ordinary sedans that never stood much chance of getting fixed up and put back on the road. Such is not the case with today's Junkyard Gem, which is a top-trim-level, heavily optioned hardtop coupe from one of the most desirable model years of the tailfins-and-chrome postwar era. Nearly every Mercury model ever made was a Ford model with some cosmetic changes applied, and the '55s looked very similar to their mechanically identical Ford brethren. In 1955, the new Mercury came in three trim levels: the entry-level Custom, the medium-zoot Monterey, and the glitzy Montclair. Each was available as a hardtop coupe and four-door sedan, with wagon versions of the Custom and Monterey. The Montclair could be purchased as a convertible or with the wild "Sun Valley" glass roof. The Montclair got its own line of hallucinogenic two-tone interiors, in order to make the daily lives of Europeans feel even more gray and penurious (the UK only dropped food rationing in 1954, and the two Germanies were still clearing the rubble of their blown-up cities). This car's upholstery has been bleached by decades of sitting outside in the harsh High Plains climate, but it started out as vivid red and white "Chromatex" fabric. The list price on this car was $2,631, or about $29,200 in 2022 dollars. The Sun Valley and convertible Montclair each cost $2,712 ($30,100 today). Ford didn't offer a corresponding hardtop coupe in 1955, though the Fairlane Crown Victoria two-door did look extremely snazzy (and cost a mere $2,302— $25,545 now— with the same V8 engine as the Monterey). Meanwhile, Oldsmobile offered the handsome 88 Super Holiday Coupe for $2,714, though the Montclair had the more powerful engine. Oldsmobile had been selling new cars with overhead-valve V8s since the 1949 model year, while Ford didn't ditch the Model A-era flathead V8 for new U.S.-market cars until the 1954 model year (you could buy a new Simca Esplanada in Brazil with an Ardun-headed Ford V8-60 all the way until 1969). GM's Chevrolet Division got all the press in 1955 with the introduction of the brand-new small-block V8 engine, but Ford's 292-cubic-inch (4.8-liter) Y-Block V8 made more power than the 265-cube (4.3-liter) Chevy and the 324ci Olds Rocket 88.