1977 Pontiac Grand Lemans Base Coupe 2-door 5.7l on 2040-cars

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Junkyard Gem: 1986 Pontiac Sunbird Sedan

The J-Body platform was a giant seller for GM, staying in production from the first 1981 Chevrolet Cavalier all the way through that final 2005 Pontiac Sunfire. Outside of North America, Opels and Daewoos and Isuzus and Holdens and Vauxhalls and even Toyotas flew the J flag, and better than ten million rolled out of showrooms during that quarter-century. In the United States, Chevrolet, Oldsmobile, Pontiac, Buick, and Cadillac each sold J-Bodies. Of those, the Pontiac Sunbird often had the sportiest image, more cavalier than even the Cavalier Z24. I've documented a discarded Sunbird Turbo in the past, and now here's a bread-and-butter Sunbird sedan from the same era. The Sunbird name began its life in 1976 on the Pontiac-badged version of the rear-wheel-drive Buick Skyhawk, itself based on the Chevy Vega. The first J-Body Pontiacs had J2000 badges, then 2000 badges, then 2000 Sunbird badges, until finally the pure non-2000 Sunbird appeared for the 1985 model year. I remain disappointed that the 2000 name didn't survive into our current century, because we could have had a 2000 Pontiac 2000, or just the "2000 2000" for short. The base engine in the '86 Sunbird was this SOHC 1.8-liter four of Brazilian origin, rated at 84 horsepower. Originally developed by Opel in the late 1970s, this engine family went into cars built all across the sprawling GM empire. 84 horsepower doesn't sound like much— and it wasn't much, even by 1986 standards— but at least the original buyer of this car had the smarts to get the five-speed manual transmission. This car weighed just 2,336 pounds, a good 500 pounds lighter than the current Chevy Sonic, so performance with the manual transmission was tolerable. The '86 Sunbird's interior was much nicer than those in its Cavalier siblings, though nowhere near the Cadillac Cimarron's reading on the Plush-O-Meter. An AM/FM/cassette stereo with auto reverse was serious audio hardware in a cheap car during the middle 1980s, when even a scratchy factory AM-only radio cost the equivalent of several hundred 2020 bucks. The price tag of this car started at $7,495, or about $17,500 in 2020 dollars. The cheapest possible Cavalier sedan went for $6,888 in 1986, but a zero-option base '86 Cavalier would make you think you'd been transported to the Soviet Union every time you slunk into its harsh confines. This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings.

Win a car while supporting a charity this holiday season

Autoblog may receive a share from purchases made via links on this page. Pricing and availability are subject to change. No donation or payment necessary to enter or win this sweepstakes. See official rules on Omaze.  The leaves have fallen, there is a crispness to the air and there have already been multiple forecasts of snow, which can only mean one thing: We're coming up on Christmas. While you've been busy thinking about what kind of gifts you're going to give your loved ones, we here at Autoblog have been deciding which dream car we'd like to see in our driveway on Christmas morning. A car for Christmas does seem a bit extreme and expensive, but thanks to these Omaze sweepstakes, it doesn't have to break the bank. Here are the current sweepstakes we'd like to win this holiday season. Win a DeLorean DMC-12 - Enter at Omaze James Riswick, West Coast Editor: Let me be clear, the DeLorean is a pretty terrible car. Its speedometer doesn't even go up to the fabled 88 mph. Seriously, look at the pictures: tops out at 85. Also, who services a DeLorean? And how much would it cost to maintain one? $AlloftheMoney or just $MostoftheMoney? So owning it could be a total headache, but at least by winning one through Omaze, you'd be relieved of the financial burden of buying one in the first place. You'd also get the chance to own one of the most iconic cars of all time, one that transcends car enthusiasm and is instantly recognizable by everyone as the "Back to the Future" car. Plus, "everyone" doesn't know that the DeLorean was actually a pretty terrible car. So, I already own James Bond's car from 1995, why not Doc Brown's from 1985? Win a 2021 Bentley Bentayga V8 - Enter at Omaze Eddie Sabatini, Production Manager: Why am I choosing a +$200K Bentley SUV? Because even if I could afford one I'd never be able to wrap my head around spending money on one. So why not try to win one by donating what I can afford to a good cause? I first saw the Bentley Bentayga up close and personal at the Frankfurt Motor Show (I forget which year but I'll never forget this SUV). And although it looks like the Bentayga Omaze is offering up doesn't have the opulent tailgate setup I fell in love with when I saw it in Frankfurt, I'd still enter to win. Win a 1968 Mercedes-Benz 280SL Pagoda - Enter at Omaze Byron Hurd, Editor: Few automotive marketing efforts stick out in my head more than the Mercedes-Benz holiday spots and magazine placements.

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.