1969 Pontiac Tempest Custom S Sports Coupe Very Rare Hood Tach Gto Lookalike on 2040-cars

Auto blog

Junkyard Gem: 2004 Pontiac Vibe GT

The New United Motor Manufacturing plant in Fremont, California, built Toyota-derived machinery — badged as Toyotas, Chevrolets, Geos, and Pontiacs— from 1984 through 2010, and some of the very last vehicles that left the assembly line were Pontiac Vibes. The Vibe, sibling to the Toyota Matrix, mostly served as a ho-hum transportation appliance and/or fleet car, but a factory-hot-rod GT version could be purchased. Today's Junkyard Gem is one of those rare GTs, complete with the nearly unheard-of six-speed manual transmission, found in a self-service yard in northeastern Colorado. The regular Vibe had 123 or 130 horsepower, depending on the number of driven wheels, but the Vibe GT got the same 1.8-liter 2ZZ engine that went into the Celica GT-S. 180 horsepower, which was enough to make the 2,800-pound Vibe GT keep up with the 3,108-pound/215-horse Chrysler PT Cruiser Turbo that year. Sadly, no race series pitting Vibe GTs against PT Cruiser Turbos and Chevy HHR SSs on road courses ever materializedÂ… but it's not too late. The Vibe GT has something you couldn't get in a PT Cruiser or Chevy HHR, though: a six-speed manual transmission as standard equipment. In fact, the six-speed was the only transmission offered in the early Vibe GTs (an automatic became an option later on). You'll find plenty of three-pedal econoboxes from this era, because they were significantly cheaper than their slushbox-equipped counterparts, but the Vibe GT had plenty of competition from sportier-looking cars with manual transmissions in 2004. Not many were sold. This car is covered with nasty dents from golf-ball-sized hail (all too common in High Plains Colorado), so it may have been an insurance total that nobody wanted at auction. Sold in Wyoming, will be crushed in an adjacent state. This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. Fuel for the soul. This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. The kids, they were crazy about the Vibe (well, maybe not). This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. Toyota had right-hand-drive Matrixes brought over to Japan from Canada, but a NUMMI-built version of the Vibe could be purchased there for a few years as well. This was the Voltz, and its advertising seems notably frantic even by the standards of Japanese car commercials.

Junkyard Gem: 2001 Pontiac Grand Prix GTP

John DeLorean began his career working on Packard's Ultramatic Twin transmission, but he made his greatest mark on the automotive industry during his 1956-1969 tenure at GM's Pontiac Division. There, he helped develop the first production car engine with a quiet timing belt instead of a noisy chain, among other engineering feats, but his real fame came from the development of two money-printing models based more on marketing than machinery: the GTO and the Grand Prix. While the GTO gets all the attention now, the Grand Prix set the standard for the big-selling personal luxury coupes that sold like mad for decades to come. Today's Junkyard Gem is an example of the most powerful Grand Prix available at the turn of the century, found in a Denver-area self-service yard during the summer. The Grand Prix got front-wheel-drive for 1988 and a sedan version for 1990, but then something very beneficial happened in the 1997 model year: supercharging! Various flavors of the venerable 3.8-liter Buick V6 engine (itself based on the early-1960s Buick 215 V8 and thus cousin to the Rover V8) received Eaton blowers, starting in the 1992 model year. The Grand Prix didn't get its introduction to forced induction until the 1997 model year, but it kept the boosted option until the final Grand Prix rolled off the line in 2008 (the final Pontiac followed within a couple of years). This one made 240 horsepower, making it King of Grand Prix engines until the 2005 model year (when the GXP and its 303-horse V8 engine showed up). The very last year for a Grand Prix with a manual transmission was 1993 (there had been a three-pedal Grand Prix drought from 1973 through 1988, just to put things in perspective), so this car has the mandatory four-speed automatic. The Grand Prix lived on GM's W platform for its last two decades, making it sibling to the Impala, Regal, and Intrigue in 2001. Until the 2004 model year, every W-Body Grand Prix was built at Fairfax Assembly in Kansas City (no, the other Kansas City). Production of the final generation of Grand Prix took place in Ontario. It seems fitting that this car's final pre-crusher parking spot would be between two other GM products of the same era: a Monte Carlo and a Vibe. Related Video: This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings.

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.