2008 Pontiac Solstice Base Convertible 2-door 2.4l on 2040-cars

Auto blog

Junkyard Gem: 1988 Pontiac LeMans Sedan

During the 1960s, the Pontiac LeMans was a sporty, rear-wheel-drive midsize car, the GTO's cheaper sibling. Through the 1970s and into the middle 1980s, the LeMans became a bit less youthful-looking but remained a traditional rear-wheel-drive Detroit machine with a V8 engine option. Then, starting in the 1988 model year, the LeMans name went onto a South Korean-built version of the misery-inducing, front-wheel-drive Opel Kadett E. These were dark days for the Pontiac marque; here's the proof, photographed at a San Francisco Bay Area self-service wrecking yard last month. This one didn't quite make it to the 100,000-mile mark. These cars were very, very cheap and sold reasonably well, but nearly all of the 1988-1993 LeManses are hatchbacks. I have seen a total of two Daewoo LeMans sedans during the last decade, and this is one of them. Under the hood, 74 raging Opel/Daewoo horsepower. This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. In this car's homeland, it benefited from extremely macho South Korean voiceovers in its television advertising. This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. In the United States, the ads for the LeMans were all about the hatchback, and all about cheap excitement. Related Video: Featured Gallery Junked 1988 Pontiac LeMans Sedan View 12 Photos Auto News Pontiac

Junkyard Gem: 1997 Pontiac Sunfire SE Convertible

For the entire 24-year production run of the GM J platform (best known for the Chevrolet Cavalier), the Pontiac Division offered new J-Body cars for sale in the United States. First there was the J2000, followed in quick succession by the 2000, 2000 Sunbird and Sunbird. The Sunbird stuck around until the Cavalier got a major redesign for the 1995 model year, at which point Pontiac changed the car's name to Sunfire. Today's Junkyard Gem is one of those early Sunfires, a top-of-the-line SE convertible with the optional big engine and manual transmission. The Sunfire was an extremely close sibling to the same-year Cavalier (by the late 1980s, all the other US-market GM divisions had dropped their J-cars, which meant no more Skyhawks, Cimarrons or Firenzas), quite difficult to distinguish from its near-twin at a glance. The base engine for the 1997 Sunfire convertible was the pushrod 2.2-liter straight-four that powered so many J-bodies of the 1990s. That engine produced just 120 gnashing, valve-floating horsepower, not much by late-1990s standards. For a mere 450 additional dollars, however, the 2.4-liter Twin Cam engine and its high-revving 150 horses could be had by '97 Sunfire buyers. That's what's in this car. This is one of the members of the Oldsmobile Quad 4 family, though some fanatics will yell at you if you apply that name to the versions that don't have big QUAD 4 lettering cast into the valve cover. This is the most powerful engine ever used in production Sunfires. For 1997, Pontiac offered a four-speed automatic transmission for no extra cost in the Sunfire convertible. Buyers of all other Sunfire models that year had to shell out either $550 or $810 ($1,026 or $1,511 in 2023 dollars) for a two-pedal rig. That means that the buyer of this car really wanted the five-speed manual transmission (or just hungered for the $810 credit offered in the fine print for takers of the manual). Plenty of free-breathing engine power, five-on-the-floor driving enjoyment and the open skies above. What a fun car! This one made it to nearly 180,000 miles. For this car with the Quad 4 under the hood and a clutch pedal on the floor, the MSRP was $18,539 (about $34,584 today). Its Cavalier LS convertible twin with the same engine/transmission setup cost $17,365 ($32,394 now). This car has a bunch of options, including the 15" Rally aluminum wheels, so the out-the-door price would have been higher. The last year for the Sunfire was 2005, same as the Cavalier.

Looking Back At Oprah's Free-Car Giveaway 10 Years Later

Molly Vielweber's Pontiac G6 appears unremarkable at first glance. It wears forest green paint, rolls on five-spoke aluminum wheels, and it has a sizeable scrape in the driver's side door, the scar of a decade's worth of hard use. You wouldn't notice it parked at a big box store or cruising on the highway. Pontiac made hundreds of thousands of G6s in the 2000s, and a lot are still on the road. It's unremarkable in every way except for the front license plate, which reads, "Oprah 6." But this is not just any G6. This car is a part of television history. Vielweber won her G6 10 years ago at a taping of The Oprah Winfrey Show, when Oprah kicked off her 19th season in dramatic fashion by giving all 276 members of the studio audience a free car. It was an unprecedented stunt that changed lives, generated controversy and ultimately failed to provide enough of a marketing lift for Pontiac, which would be shuttered just over five years later. September 13 marks the 10-year anniversary of the memorable event, which caught everyone, including audience members, by surprise. In a masterful display of showmanship, Oprah dialed up the suspense to match the enormity – and cost – of the event. First she gave away 11 cars, which would have been a landmark TV promotion by itself. But then she coyly announced: "I've got a little twist." Models circulated throughout the audience carrying silver platters loaded with white boxes wrapped in red ribbon. One contained a set of keys, Oprah implied, for another audience member to win the final car. "Do not open it. Do not shake it," she commanded the crowd. Finally, with the suspense built to a fevered pitch, everyone opened their box. They all had keys. "You get a car! You get a car! You get a car! You get a car! Everybody gets a car!" Oprah exclaimed. "Everybody gets a car! Everybody gets a car!" This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. Everybody did get a car. But not everyone kept it. William Toebe attended the show with his wife, Jillaine, and he immediately thought of the tax implications, which stretched to $6,000 or more for some audience members. It was a tough reality for many in the audience that day, some of which had been selected based on their need for a new car. "That responsible part of me stepped forward and wondered 'where am I going to get the money to pay the taxes?'" he recalled.