1967 Pontiac Lemans on 2040-cars

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This or That: 2005 Chrysler Crossfire SRT6 vs. 1984 Pontiac Fiero

Welcome to another round of This or That, where two Autoblog editors pick a topic, pick a side and pull no punches. Last round pitted yours truly against Associate Editor Brandon Turkus, and my chosen VW Vanagon Syncro narrowly defeated Brandon's 1987 Land Rover. In fact, it was, by far, the closest round we've seen, with 1,907 voters seeing things my way (for 50.8 percent of the vote) versus 1,848 votes for Brandon's Rover (49.2 percent). Sweet, sweet victory! For this latest round of This or That, I've roped Editor Greg Migliore into what I think is a rather fun debate. We've each chosen our favorite terrible cars, setting a price limit of $10,000 to make sure neither of us went too crazy with our automotive atrocities. I think we've both chosen terribly... and I mean that in the best way possible. 2005 Chrysler Crossfire SRT6 Jeremy Korzeniewski: Why It's Terrible: Taken in isolation, the Chrysler Crossfire isn't necessarily a terrible car. In fact, it drives pretty darn well, and there's a lot of solid engineering under its slinky shape. Problem is, that engineering was already rather long in the tooth well before Chrysler ever got its hands on it, having come from Mercedes-Benz, which used the basic chassis and drivetrain in a previous version of its SLK coupe and roadster. Granted, the SLK was an okay car, too, but even when new, it hardly set the world on fire with sporty driving dynamics. Chrysler took these decent-but-no-more bits and pieces from the Mercedes parts bin – remember, this car was conceived in the disastrous Merger Of Equals days – and covered them with a rather attractive hard-candy shell. Unfortunately, the super sporty shape wrote checks in the minds of buyers that its well-worn mechanicals were simply unable to cash, though an injection of power courtesy of a supercharged V6 engine in the SRT6 model, as seen here, certainly helped ease some of those woes. In the end, Chrysler was left with a so-called halo car that looked the part but never quite performed the part. It was almost universally panned by critics as an overpriced parts-bin special, which, I must add, was damningly accurate. As a result, sales were very slow, and within the first few months, dealers were clearancing the car at cut-rate prices, just to keep them from taking up too much of the showroom floor. Why It's Not That Terrible, After All: I can speak from personal experience when discussing the Chrysler Crossfire. You see, I owned one. Well, sort of...

24 Hours of Le Mans live update part two

We tasked surfing journalist Rory Parker to watch this year's live stream of the 2016 24 Hours of Le Mans. What follows is an experiment to experience the world's greatest endurance race from the perspective of a motorsports novice. Parker lives in Hawaii and can hold his breath longer than he can go without swearing. For Part One, click here. Or you can skip ahead to Part Three here. I write about surfing for a living. If you can call it a living. Basically means I spend my days fucking around and my wife pays for everything. Because she's got a real job that pays well. Brings home the bacon. Very progressive arrangement. Super twenty first century. I run a surf website, beachgrit.com, with two other guys. It's a strange gig. More or less uncensored. Kind of popular. Very good at alienating advertisers. My behavior has cost us a few bucks. I'm terrible at self-censorship. Know there's a line out there, no idea where it lies. I still don't understand any of the technical side. Might as well be astrophysics or something. For contests I do long rambling write ups. They rarely make much sense. Mainly just talk about my life, whatever random thoughts pop into my head. "Can you do something similar for Le Mans?" "Sure, but I know absolutely fuck-all about racing." "That's okay. Just write what you want." "Will do. But you're gonna need to edit my stuff. Probably censor it heavily." So here I am. I spent the last week trying to learn all I can about the sport of endurance racing. But there's only so much you can jam in your head. And I still don't understand any of the technical side. Might as well be astrophysics or something. While I rambled things were happening. Tracy Krohn spun into the gravel on the Forza chicane. #89 is out of the race after an accident I missed. Pegasus racing hit the wall on the Porsche curves. Bashed up front end, in the garage getting fixed. Toyota and Porsche are swapping back and forth in the front three. Ford back in the lead in GTE Pro. #91 Porsche took a stone through the radiator, down two laps. Not good. The wife and I are one of those weird childless couples that spend way too much time caring for the needs of their pet. French bulldog, Mr Eugene Victor Debs. Great little guy. Spent the last four years training him to be obedient and friendly. Nice thing about dogs, when you're sick of dealing with them you can just lock 'em in another room for a few hours. You don't need to worry about paying for college.

Junkyard Gem: 1986 Pontiac Fiero 2M4

The mid-engined, plastic-bodied Pontiac Fiero two-seater caused great excitement when it hit the streets as a 1984 model, then became something of an embarrassment for GM when its design flaws became clear to the car-buying public. Still, when a V6 engine became available for 1985, followed by a fastback roof for 1986, the air of Pontiac Excitement around the Fiero lingered to a certain extent. We took a look at a discarded '86 Fiero GT with both the 2.8-liter V6 and the fastback body last year, and now we'll take a look at an example of the econo-commuter four-cylinder notchback version from the same year. Pontiac used the 2M4 designation (standing for two seats, mid-engine, four cylinders) on four-cylinder Fieros, while the six-cylinder cars were known as 2M6s. 2M4 decals went on four-banger Fieros for the 1984-1986 model years, while 2M6 decals seem to have been applied less consistently to the V6 cars of that period. During the early development period of the car that became the Fiero, the idea was that it would be a nimble sports car with a lightweight engine. Then the plan shifted, with the Fiero intended to be a gas-sipping commuter. When the car finally hit showrooms, it was a lot heavier than intended, it had a Chevy Citation front suspension in the back plus a Chevette front suspension, and its engine was the low-revving, weighty Iron Duke 2.5-liter straight-four. The Duke was about the least sports-car-appropriate four-cylinder engine The General could dredge up from his parts bins, but it was cheap and there was no shortage of production capacity. By the time the Fiero came out, the Iron Duke had been renamed the Tech 4. This one was rated at 92 horsepower and 132 pound-feet. The V6 Fieros get all the press today, but plenty of the Duked versions were sold (amazingly, the Chevrolet Camaro was available with Iron Duke power from 1982 through 1986). The emissions sticker tells us that this was a California-market car, rather than the "49-state" model the rest of the country got. California-specific emissions hardware added $99 to this car's price ($277 in 2023 dollars). While this car is a base model, the original buyer loaded it with options. The transmission is a three-speed automatic, priced at $465 (about $1,303 in 2023 dollars). A five-speed manual was standard equipment on the 1986 Fiero, though the old-fashioned four-speed manual was still available for a $50 credit ($140 now).