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Junkyard Gem: 2001 Pontiac Aztek

Ah, the Pontiac Aztek. Everyone laughs at the Aztek ... except, apparently, for Coloradans who like to go camping, bike riding, hiking, and all that outdoorsy stuff that folks do in the Centennial State. You'll see Azteks being driven, unironically and without shame, all over the place in the Denver region, and now plenty of them are showing up in the local wrecking yards. Here's a first-year-of-production example in its final campground. These minivans or crossovers (or however the experts finally decided to categorize them) had built-in air compressors, audio controls in the rear cargo area, and other features meant to enhance tailgating, camping, and other activities deemed central to Generation X's allegedly active lifestyle. You could even get an optional camping kit with a tent that attached to the rear of the Aztek. So, it was a General Motors minivan-like vehicle, cousin of the weird-looking Dustbusters of the 1990s, with lots of useful features for those who did more than just commute to work and drop off kids at school. Unfortunately for GM, the Aztek was staggeringly ugly, and Generation Xers were too damned broke to buy new cars in 2001, anyway. I see plenty of them in Denver-area wrecking yards now, along with their slightly-less-offensive-looking Buick Rendezvous siblings, and so I decided to document one before they're all gone. This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. Gear up, go for a stroll, or let it slide? Related Video: Featured Gallery Junked 2001 Pontiac Aztek View 11 Photos Auto News Pontiac Crossover pontiac aztek

Howard Stern latest in Seinfeld's passenger seat for CiCGC

We'll be honest: the actual cars in Jerry Seinfeld's hit internet series, Comedians In Cars Getting Coffee, typically take a back seat to the celebrities in the front row. Seinfeld usually throws in a few lines about his classic wheels in the first minute or so, and then moves on to the important business of sprightly conversation and pithy one-liners. It's great.
This time around, with legendary motormouth Howard Stern riding shotgun, the 1969 Pontiac GTO Judge that might have been a co-star, gets forgotten about almost completely. Instead, Stern spends a tremendous amount of screen time extolling the virtues of his therapy sessions, attempts to dive into Seinfeld's prowess as a lover and generally makes a nuisance of himself. Pretty much to plan, then.
Scroll below to hear Howard accuse Jerry of acting like Jesus, just before declaring himself the greatest radio personality in the history of the business.

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.