2003 Lincoln Aviator Luxry,awd,3rd Row,rear A/c,loaded,extra Clean,last Bid Wins on 2040-cars

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2020 Lincoln Corsair First Drive | Compact 'American luxury'

SAN FRANCISCO — Lincoln almost left the building. Word is that former Ford CEO Alan Mullaly, who had come from the airline business and did not have any special affection for historically significant auto brands, was ready to kill off Lincoln after Ford divested itself of its European luxury portfolio. Other Ford executives were able to persuade him to keep it, but then had to come up with a way to make the division relevant. Selling warmed-over Fords wouldnÂ’t cut it going forward, and attempting to emulate the Germans (as Cadillac has tried to do) didnÂ’t seem viable. It was decided Lincoln would proffer “American luxury,” but what did that mean? The 2020 Lincoln Corsair is the latest answer to that question. Like its preceding bigger siblings, the Navigator and Aviator, it offers true design differentiation from Ford with a look all LincolnÂ’s own, and an emphasis not just on luxury features but a better ownership experience. Proper names are back too, which is why we're reviewing the "Corsair" and not the second-generation MKC. Like that predecessor, the Corsair shares its architecture with the Ford Escape, albeit the all-new version. Despite their common bones, none of the body panels are the same. Instead, the look is right at home with the brandÂ’s larger SUVs, featuring many of the same styling cues that include the now-familiar Lincoln grille, gently tapered roofline, blacked out pillars and long, slim taillights  The Corsair has more sculpted flanks and a more pronounced shoulder, but the resemblance to the Aviator in particular is strong, and it's no surprise that both SUVs were penned by the same man: Kemal Curic, who has now ascended to the head design spot at Lincoln. Compared to the MKC, overall length is 1.4 inches greater, the wheelbase is 0.8 inch longer, and the vehicle is 1.1 inches lower. That puts the CorsairÂ’s exterior dimensions between the Audi Q3 and Q5 or the BMW X1 and X3. Its closest dimensional doppelganger is the Cadillac XT4, which will likely be its closest rival. The CorsairÂ’s interior echoes the exterior design with a horizontal theme that makes the cabin feel bigger. Vents stretch across the dash, and above them (in the Reserve model) is an inset band of striped silver metallic trim. The center stack floats above the console, making for an airier environment and leaving room for additional stowage, which is plentiful.

Junkyard Gem: 1979 Lincoln Continental Town Car

Ford built Continentals from the 1940 through 2020 model years (with a couple of pauses during that period), and the biggest and arguably most extreme Continentals of all were the 1977-1979 models. That's what we've got for today's Junkyard Gem: a 1979 Continental Town Car with Cream paint outside and plenty of Light Gold Jubilee velour inside, found in a self-service boneyard in Sparks, Nevada. Thanks to the big 5 mph crash bumpers, the overall length of the 1977-1979 Continental sedan stretched to an astounding 233 inches. That's more than a foot longer than the 2024 Lincoln Navigator, though the Navigator scales in at more than a half-ton heavier than the '79 Continental sedan. For the 1980 model year, the Continental went onto the Panther platform and shed 10 inches of wheelbase, more than 13 inches of length and 500 pounds of curb weight. Considering the geopolitical events of 1979 and their effect on fuel prices, this turned out to be good timing … but the downsized '80 Continental didn't look as imposing (or as white-powder-dusted) when it pulled up to the valet parking stand at the disco. When your sedan weighs 4,649 pounds, you want serious power under its hood Â… and that was a rare commodity among 1979 automobiles sold in the United States. This is a 400-cubic-inch (6.6-liter) pushrod V8, essentially a stroked 351 Cleveland, rated at 159 horsepower and 315 pound-feet. That means that each of this car's horses had to drag 29.2 pounds, a ratio that's quite a bit worse than that of the much-maligned-for-slowness 2024 Mitsubishi Mirage (though the respectable torque made driving these cars tolerable enough in most situations). The interior was all about cushy seats and space to stretch out. The silver-faced gauges were very classy. Opera lights? You bet! This would have been an excellent, if thirsty, long-distance highway cruiser for its day. There were some 1999 coupons inside, suggesting that the car had been parked for a quarter-century before coming to this place. The high-elevation desert sun is murder on vinyl roofs. On January 10, 1981, people associated with this fine luxury automobile played golf at Willow Glen in San Diego. On the same day, Richard Boone died and Jared Kushner was born. This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. A standard by which luxury cars are judged.

Did Lexus make a BMW? Or did BMW make a Lexus? This and other 2017 surprises

It's that time of year again. The calendar is about to reach its end, Star Trek Cats 2018 is about to take its place, and I'm reflecting about all the cars that graced my driveway this year or summoned me to exotic places. You know, like Stuttgart or Phoenix. In 2017, I drove at least 57, and as I perused the list of them, I started to notice a common refrain: "This car surprised me." Most were pleasant surprises, but there were a few head scratchers and facepalms for good measure. In both cases, it was generally the result of car companies seemingly trying to break out of an existing mold. Nowhere was that more apparent than the pair of Lexuses slathered in Infrared paint: The LS 500 that left me this week and the LC 500 that was my favorite car of 2017. Though Lexus has been trying to shake its crusty, gold-packaged reputation for some time now, its efforts always seemed like an old man choosing Hollister to redo his wardrobe after realizing it hasn't been updated since 1987. I fell in love with the LC, genuinely floored by its near-perfect take on the GT. It's characterful in sound, appearance and tactility. It was at home in the city, in the mountain and on the open road. It was both comfortable and thrilling, and after driving the mechanically related LS 500, I can report that the LC's talents aren't an outlier. The LS 500's turbo V6 may make different noises than the LC's naturally aspirated V8, but it nevertheless invigorates the cabin when the car is placed in Sport+ mode. The steering is truly communicative, body motions are kept in miraculous check, and I absolutely forgot I was in an enormous luxury limo ... and a Lexus one at that. It was everything that the BMW 530e was not. I drove that on the exact same roads and was utterly bored the entire time. Generally doughy, lifeless steering, more distant than Planet 9. And no, the plug-in hybrid powertrain had nothing to do with that. At least it shouldn't. The Porsche Panamera S e-Hybrid I also drove this year proves that, as do the Hyundai Ioniqs, which are surprisingly adept and fun little cars regardless of what powers their wheels (Hyundai + hybrid = fun really blew me away). I would drive that Lexus LS F Sport over the BMW 5 Series any day of the week, which seems like a shocking thing to say in relation to either car. While Lexus is seemingly breaking out of its old crusty mold, BMW seems to be climbing into one.