1976 Chevrolet Monte Carlo on 2040-cars

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GM's Oshawa plant may close after Camaro production moves

Most of the time, when vehicle production is moved from one assembly plant to another, it spells bad news for the former. While General Motors won't go so far as to say its Oshawa, Ontario factory, which is losing the Chevrolet Camaro to the Lansing Grand River plant, is in trouble, analysts seem to think the factory's days are numbered. Forecasts for the facility are far from positive. The loss of the Camaro this year, combined with GM's targeted shutdown of a single-shift assembly line responsible for the fleet-only Chevy Impala Limited and the Equinox crossover is a bad enough omen. But with AutoForecast Solutions CEO Joe McCabe telling The Detroit News that the plant's other two products, the Cadillac XTS and Buick Regal, aren't likely to stick around beyond 2017, things look decidedly grim at Oshawa. "There is a fairly strong chance that the plant could close," Jeff Schuster, senior VP of forecasting for LMC Automotive, told The Detroit News. That doesn't mean that Unifor, Canada's auto union, and the Canadian government are going to let the factory die without a fight. And with the latter chipping in $10 billion as part of GM's 2009 bailout, you might think it has a degree of leverage in the situation. A meeting between the government and the Detroit Three at the 2015 North American International Auto Show revealed that Oshawa is already a topic of conversation. "We made it very clear that we would like to see an indication on the future of Oshawa sooner, in particular because the timing is very challenging for our supply chain to be able to adjust to potentially future orders or changes, but also to know that there are going to be future opportunities at Oshawa," Ontario's Minister of Economic, Development, Employment and Infrastructure Brad Duguid told The Detroit News. "Bottom line: It's time they made a longer-term commitment here," Unifor President Jerry Dias said, echoing Duguid's statements. It's unclear if this sort of strong talk will be enough to save 3,300-plus employees, although based on the analysts' forecasts, we doubt it.

Meet Alex Archer, the engineer behind GM's power-sliding center console

In 2009, a GM manager complained to a 59-year-old GM technician about the hassle of retrieving items from a pickup truck bed after driving shifted the cargo. In two days, the tech had come up with the ideas that, ten years later, would debut as the MultiPro tailgate. The engineering teams kept the tailgate secret in part by hiding mock-ups in a locked storage closet in GM's Vehicle Engineering Center in Warren Michigan for two years. A piece in the Detroit Free Press reveals that another storage closet in Warren would play the same role in a different cloak-and-dagger operation, this time for the power-sliding center console in GM's new full-sized SUVs. During a meeting in early 2017, bosses gave the job of the console's creation to 24-year-old design release engineer Alex Archer, just two years out of Stanford University with a degree in engineering and product design.  This time, the catalyst for the feature was an internal GM think tank called co:lab, where employees suggest ideas. Execs gave Archer the task because "They needed someone willing to ask a lot of questions," her 36-month mandate to produce a six-way console that could be a standard cubby or a gaping maw able to swallow four gallon jugs or hide a secret compartment. Clearly, she succeeded. It took Archer and the team nine months to devise a prototype, another six months to get the green light for production. As with the tailgate, the team working on the console grew to include designers, production engineers, and suppliers. Archer, now 26, shepherded the process, and her name is on the patent. "It took a ton of people, I'm just somebody who stuck with it the whole time," she said. GM like her work well enough to produce the "Day in the Life" segment above, five months before the world would hear about the console. Archer's path to engineering was as unlikely as getting the job for the console. She had entered Stanford with plans to be a doctor. But an innovation class during her freshman year, and a sophomore summer spent helping her grandfather rebuild a 1937 MG engine recharted her course. Her grandfather told her, "You know, you could be an engineer for a car company." Consumer reaction to Archer's work won't be far off, the SUVs slated to hit dealerships soon. Meanwhile, she's busy on something that could be just as intense as the console: Restoring a 1955 Packard Clipper in her garage. Head to Freep to check out the story of Archer and the console. Related Video:

Junkyard Gem: 1985 Chevrolet Sprint

For in the 1985 model year, General Motors began selling Chevrolet-badged Suzuki Cultus hatchbacks in California. Sales of the cheap three-cylinder econobox in the rest of North America followed soon after (with the Canadian version known as the Pontiac Firefly), and did pretty well considering the crash in gasoline prices during the middle 1980s. Starting in 1988, the facelifted Sprint became the Geo (and, later on, Chevrolet) Metro. Here's one of the very first Cultuses sold on our shores, found in a San Francisco Bay Area car graveyard. Amazingly, the primitive rear-wheel-drive Chevrolet Chevette remained available all the way through 1987, competing with the thriftier front-wheel-drive Sprint in the same showrooms. For 1988, Pontiac started selling a rebadged Daewoo LeMans, so the Sprint/Metro never lacked for intra-corporate competition. Inside, you'll find the same stuff most mid-1980s Japanese econoboxes got: tough cloth upholstery and long-wearing hard plastics. Suzuki quality in 1985 wasn't quite up to Honda or Toyota levels, but you weren't paying Honda or Toyota prices for the Sprint. MSRP on this car started at $4,949, or about $12,000 in 2020 dollars. The cheapest possible 1985 Chevette cost $5,340, while a new no-frills Ford Escort would set you back $5,620. Subaru, however, could have put you in a punitively unappointed base-model Leone hatchback for just 40 bucks more than the Sprint that year. I think I'd have sprung the extra for a $5,348 Toyota Tercel, a $5,195 Mazda GLC, or— best cheap-commuter deal of all that year— the $5,399 Honda Civic 1300 hatchback. I was 19 years old and driving a Competition Orange 1968 Mercury Cyclone that year, and I recall feeling pity for Chevy Sprint drivers, new-car smell or not. Still, these weren't bad cars for the price, though a Sprint with an automatic transmission was a real character-builder. Got three cylinders and uses 'em all! 48 horsepower from this hemi-headed SOHC 1-liter. The Turbo Sprint — yes, such a car existed — had a howling 70 horsepower. The hood-latch release is a rectangular button that resembles a badge. 1985 Chevy Sprint Commercial The highest-mileage, lowest-priced car you can buy. 1985 holden barina commercial The Australian-market version was the Holden Barina, and the TV ads featured the Road Runner. 1983 SUZUKI CULTUS Ad In its homeland, this car got screaming guitars and a drive through New York City for its TV commercials.