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Junkyard Gem: 1985 Buick Skyhawk Custom Coupe

General Motors began building cars on the compact J Platform in 1981, and J-based machinery stayed in production all the way through the 2005 Chevrolet Cavalier and Pontiac Sunfire. The best-known of the J-cars in North America was always the Cavalier, but The General's Pontiac, Oldsmobile, Buick and even Cadillac divisions each sold their own Js here. The Buick version was the Skyhawk, built for the 1982 through 1989 model years. Here's a sporty '85 Skyhawk coupe, found in a Northern California boneyard recently. The Custom trim level was the cheapest version of the Skyhawk in 1985, and the two door was the most affordable configuration (midgrade Skyhawks were Limiteds and the T-Type was at the top of the Skyhawk pyramid that year). The MSRP on this car started at $7,512 (about $21,220 in inflation-adjusted 2022 dollars), making it the least expensive new Buick offered for sale in the United States in 1985. The Skyhawk name had been used on the Buick version of the Chevrolet Monza during the 1970s. The Chevrolet-badged sibling of this car was much cheaper, with the list price of the base '85 Cavalier coupe set at $6,872 (around $19,410 today). There were cheaper new Chevrolets that year, of course; a new Chevette cost just $5,470, while the Isuzu-built Spectrum was $6,295 and the Suzuki-built Sprint a skinflinty $5,151. The base engine in the Custom and Limited was this 2.0-liter SOHC straight-four rated at 86 horsepower. A turbocharged 1.8-liter version with 150 horses was available for an extra 800 bucks ($2,260 now). A four-on-the-floor manual transmission was standard equipment in the 1985 Skyhawk, but the buyers of most of these cars insisted on automatics. The price for this one was $425 ($1,200 today). A five-speed manual cost just $75 ($210). Velour-ish upholstery in Bordello Red (Buick didn't use that name) was all the rage during the 1980s and well into the 1990s. This car's interior looks pretty nice, considering where it's parked. Community Buick GMC in Iowa is still in business today. The five-digit odometer means we can't know how many miles were on this car at the end. I brought a Chicago-made 1950s Pho-Tak Foldex 30 film camera with me to the junkyard that day, as one does, and I photographed the Skyhawk on Kodak Portra 160 film. The irritatingly perky Skyhawk owners in this TV commercial appear to be about one-third the age of typical mid-1980s Buick shoppers.

2024 Buick Encore GX Cupholder Mega Test: Will the Nalgene bottle fit?

I recently reviewed the 2024 Buick Encore GX in its new Avenir trim, appreciating the updates from its mid-cycle refresh and assessing its comfortable driving style. What I didn't dive into, however, were the cupholders. Specifically, I wanted to know if it could accommodate in a convenient location what is my favorite hydration facilitator, a 32-ounce Nalgene water bottle. This, like other oversized water bottles, often can't find a cupholder that will fit it. Its a particularly American problem (we're more obsessed with cupholders than other markets), so can this American budget-luxury crossover satisfy my own obsession with this big, dumb bottle? Let's find out. Ideally, we could put it in the front cupholders. Few vehicles' cupholders are big enough, though, with the Chrysler Pacifica, Lexus GX and Toyota 4Runner being notable exceptions. We can't add the Encore to that list, unfortunately. The cupholders are far too small. Usually, the second best option, if possible, is to put it in the front door pocket. Voila! It fits. No Nalgene rolling around on the front passenger seat in this Buick. But what about in back? The center armrest in the Encore GX is a fine place to rest one's elbow, but what about a big-ass bottle of water? Alas, the rear cupholders are equally dinky as the ones up front, which is often the case. The last-gen Toyota Tundra was an exception, where the rear cupholders were bigger than those up front which is super weird to me. I'mm looking forward to see what's what with the new Tundra. The rear door pockets are much smaller than those up front. This does not look promising. It's just big enough that I can wedge the bottom of the bottle inside, but not big enough to keep it there when the car is in motion. Sorry backseaters, you'd better settle for your lesser bottles, suckers. I had almost overlooked this little cubby in between the front cupholders and center console armrest. It's an odd shape, but with some luck, the Nalgene will fit. That's the ticket! This is even better than putting it in the door. It's not the most secure fit, but it's not so huge a space that the bottle knocks around and falls over with every input to the steering wheel or pedals. This ended up being where I put the Nalgene every time I drove the Encore GX, and, subsequently, I remained content and adequately hydrated. And the cupholders remained open for alternative beverages. Interested in more than just the cupholders?

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.