2005 Pontiac Grand Prix Gt 4-door 3.8l 3800cc V6 Police Auction - No Reserve 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.

GM reintroduces Tripower name in the worst way possible

The story of General Motors' use of the Tripower moniker begins way back in 1957, when Semon E. "Bunkie" Knudsen, then General Manager of GM's Pontiac division, directed his engineers to inject more performance into his brand's line of V8-powered automobiles. Fuel injection was an option, but hot rodders flocked instead to Tri-Power (marketed way back when with a hyphen), which grafted a trio of two-barrel Rochester carburetors onto a single intake manifold. A legend was born. And that legend was born of performance. At idle and when full power wasn't required, Pontiac's Tri-Power system used just the middle carburetor, which helped make the setup easier to tune. Depending on the year and model, either a vacuum system or a mechanical linkage opened up the two outer carbs, thereby switching from two barrels to six, and allowing the engine to take in more fuel and air. And it was an easy marketing win – six barrels is better than four barrels, right? Because performance! So, when news filtered in that GM has resurrected the Tripower name, those of us who grew up attending classic car shows and wrenching on old Pontiacs did a double-take. And then we all collectively sighed. Turns out that today's Tripower refers to a trio of fuel-saving measures that include cylinder deactivation, active thermal management, and intake valve lift control, according to Automotive News. And, at least for now, it applies to GM's line of fullsize trucks powered by a 2.7-liter turbocharged four-cylinder engine. We're all for saving fuel whenever possible. And we have zero say in how any automaker chooses to market its products and technologies. But, we'll offer our two cents anyway: Relaunching a storied name from the past is fine. Relaunching a storied name from the past while completely overlooking the reasons the name got famous in the first place is only going to irritate the people who remember the name in the first place. Couldn't they just call this new technology package something else? Related Video: News Source: Automotive NewsImage Credit: Getty Green Marketing/Advertising Chevrolet GM Pontiac Automotive History Truck chevrolet silverado

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.