Pontiac Gto 2237 on 2040-cars

Auto blog

This 1927 Oakland is a minimalist hot rod

There are hundreds of American automakers that sprung up during the dawn of the automotive era, only to fold into obscurity or get gobbled up by what would eventually become the Big Four (yes, we're counting AMC here). Oakland is one such company, which was the forbearer for General Motors' Pontiac division. Sold until 1931, you simply don't see Oakland-badged cars anymore. Unless, that is, you know Brian Bent.
Bent drives a 1927 Oakland that still rides on wooden wheels. Its original wooden wheels, from the sound of it. That makes this anachronist and his Oakland the perfect subject for a Petrolicious video. Like many of the cars highlighted by Petrolicious, this old Oakland has had some work done to it, featuring a Pontiac flathead engine that's been pushed forward and a clutch pack built by Bent.
Take a look below for a closer look at this rare and fascinating Oakland.

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.

Pontiac Firebird in latest Generation Gap scrap

Generation Gap is mining the Lingenfelter collection again this week to compare two very different interpretations of the Pontiac Firebird. An original 1968 example goes toe-to-toe with a 2010 Lingenfelter Trans Am to see whether the old man or the modern re-imagining takes the crown.
Being from the Lingenfelter collection, both cars are absolutely immaculate. The '68 packs a Pontiac 350-cubic-inch (5.7-liter) V8 with a claimed 320 horsepower and some classic, muscular style with a hood-mounted tach. Plus, it's painted in an understated shade of green that you don't usually see.
In the other corner is Lingenfelter's pumped-up take on the classic shape based on the modern Camaro, and this is just one of six concept versions ever made. It wears an eye-catching, vintage-inspired livery of blue with a white stripe package. Under its shaker hood is a 455-cubic-inch (7.5-liter) V8 with a reported 655 hp and 610 pound-feet of torque.