×

About

The guy car wash is your premium car wash service that lets your car smile

Newsletter

Subscribe to Our Newsletter:

Author: Murilee Martin

Junkyard Gem: 2005 Honda Accord, Hello Kitty Edition


When you’re a young city-dweller and your car is a generic 20-year-old sedan with the base engine, what do you do? You personalize it, of course, and that’s what the final owner of this Accord LX did. An unfortunate rear-end collision sent this car to a Denver car graveyard, giving us an illustrative snapshot of a place and time in popular automotive culture.

This car began life as one of the more than 350,000 Honda Accords sold in the United States for the 2005 model year. It’s a dime-a-dozen mid-level DX four-door with the base 2.4-liter four-cylinder engine delivering 160 horsepower.

It has air conditioning, a CD player with AUX input jack (a fairly rare feature in cars built before the late 2000s), an automatic transmission and a large helping of that legendary Accord reliability.

All in all, a very sensible car. But where’s the fun?

So, a shopping spree including pink spray paint, aftermarket accessories and many decals followed.

A not-so-fast but reasonably furious wing was bolted to the decklid.

When you’re a member of the Slow Car Club, you can be proud that your Accord doesn’t have the 255-horse V6 under its hood.

Inside, all the seats feature Hello Kitty seat covers.

Because genuine Hello Kitty wheels are very expensive, this car has regular 15-inch steelies painted pink.

Because all is not sweetness and cuddles in the Hello Kitty universe, there are spike lug nuts.

But did you die?

Break parts, not hearts.

One might apply this sentiment to the driver who crashed into this Accord and sent it to the junkyard.

It’s worth fixing a three-year-old Accord when this happens, but not so much with a 19-year-old Accord.

When you own a McMansion like this one, you require the low depreciation of the 2005 Accord LX.



Source link

Junkyard Gem: 1986 Chevrolet Celebrity Wagon


The beginning of the end for station wagons arrived as the second half of the 1980s dawned, thanks to Chrysler’s introduction of its game-changing minivans and AMC’s introduction of the even more influential XJ Jeep Cherokee (both as 1984 models), but few noticed at first. At that time, GM’s Chevrolet Division still offered wagons in three different sizes: the Cavalier, Celebrity and Caprice Classic; today’s Junkyard Gem is an example of the middle type, found in a Denver self-service yard recently.

The Celebrity was based on GM’s front-wheel-drive A Platform, which was derived from the X Platform that underpinned the Chevrolet Citation and its kin. It was built from the 1982 through 1990 model years and was a huge success with well over 2 million sold. The Celebrity has all but disappeared from streets and car graveyards by now, so this is a rare opportunity to follow up the base-model ’87 Celebrity sedan we saw a few years ago with a loaded longroof version.

The Celebrity’s near-identical siblings were the Buick Century, Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera/Cruiser and Pontiac 6000.

I have some personal and not-so-pleasant family experience with the Celebrity. My parents were patriotic Midwesterners who chose Detroit machinery (with a couple of notable exceptions) to drive from the time I was brought home from the hospital in a 1956 Olds 88 after my birth until I was off at college during the middle 1980s. They’d had an unpleasant experience with a 1979 Ford Granada, writing it off to simple bad luck, but then my dad decided to trade in his 1978 Pontiac Bonneville on a new Chevrolet Celebrity Eurosport sedan (above is the only surviving photo of that car, shot past the snout of my now-legendary 1965 Impala sedan). That car was an across-the-board lemon, failing repeatedly under warranty and then even more repeatedly later on, and it drove my parents into the waiting arms of Toyota and Mazda, from which they never returned to Detroit iron.

That said, my family’s Celebrity experience wasn’t universal, and there are still devoted Celebrity enthusiasts to this day. That becomes relevant when telling the tale of today’s Junkyard Gem, because it will lead us to a heartwarming junkyard happy ending.

This car’s interior was just beautiful, leading me to believe that the 43,977 miles showing on its five-digit odometer represented the actual mileage. What a waste of nice interior parts, I thought, but then I remembered that I knew a Celebrity wagon owner!

Yes, the same married couple of Denver-area 24 Hours of Lemons racers who compete with a Chevy Vega and bought a 1990 Dodge Omni for their 16-year-old (because it’s a cool old car that, amazingly, came with a peace-of-mind-providing driver’s-side airbag) picked up a Celebrity station wagon to drive in the Route 66 Lemons Rally last month. Since my tip about a junked 1988 Plymouth Horizon led them to a bonanza of Omni parts, I let them know about the super-clean Celebrity in a nearby boneyard.

As it turned out, they had too many weird hoopties in their stable and had just sold their rally Celebrity to an enthusiast in Iowa who owns several nicely restored Celebrities. He would be flying out to Denver to pick up his wagon and was elated to learn of a nearly-impossible-to-find parts donor in a Mile High junkyard.

After picking up his new ride, he drove the 10 minutes over to U-Pull-&-Pay and harvested all these Celebrity goodies to take home.

As an added bonus, he found the original build sheet under the rear seat and sent a photo. Look at all those expensive options!

As the build sheet states, this car was built at the Oklahoma City plant and then sold new at Osborn Chevrolet on South Havana Street in Aurora (now Celebration Chevrolet at the same location). You can get incredible Korean food in that neighborhood today, by the way.

The base engine in the Celebrity was the 2.5-liter Iron Duke four-cylinder, but this car has the optional high-output 2.8-liter V6 and its 125 horses/160 pound-feet. A 4.3-liter diesel V6 (which was an Oldsmobile design not related to the Chevrolet 4.3-liter V6) was available for the 1985 through 1986 model years, but had been dropped by the time this car was built.

The HO 2.8 got multi-port fuel injection, while the ordinary 112hp 2.8 had a two-barrel carburetor.

For 1986, Celebrity buyers could get a four-on-the-floor manual transmission as base equipment with cars built with Iron Duke or carbureted 2.8 engines (almost none did), but the HO 2.8 cars got this four-speed automatic. Just to confuse matters, the Iron Duked ’86 Celebrity could be purchased with a three-speed automatic.

This AM/FM/cassette radio with auto-reverse and Dolby noise reduction is serious audio hardware for a low-priced American car of the middle 1980s. Celebrity buyers for 1986 got nothing as standard audio equipment, as in the only tunes you’d get in the car were the ones you sang yourself; this unit (which was the second-to-the-top radio option for the 1986 Celebrity) cost a cool $319, or about $909 in 2024 dollars. You really needed it, however, if you wanted to do justice to the hits of the era.

Junkyard employees generally don’t have time to futz with malfunctioning GM hood latches when it comes time to yank the battery and drain all the fluids, so they’ll take this kind of drastic prybar action to open a hood quickly. That’s a shame, because this car’s body was in good shape when it arrived here.

Interestingly for a Detroit wagon with so many options, this one doesn’t seem to have the rear-facing “wayback” seat.

It will be crushed soon, but at least many of its parts went to a good home.

The Celebrity sedan was replaced by the Lumina, with the Lumina APV minivan taking over midsize family-hauling duties. The very last new Chevrolet station wagon available in the United States was the longroof version of the 1996 Caprice.

Drive today’s Chevy. Live today’s Chevy.

The roomiest front-drive wagons in America.





Source link

Junkyard Gem: 2014 Chevrolet Impala Limited


What does a car company do when it introduces a completely revised new generation of a vehicle even while fleet sales of its predecessor remain strong? In the case of 21st-century General Motors, you keep making both versions. That’s what GM did when the tenth-generation Chevrolet Impala had its debut as a 2014 model, continuing to build the ninth-generation Impala for fleet-only sales through 2016 and calling it the Impala Limited. Here’s one of those not-so-rare-but-still-interesting machines, found in a Colorado car graveyard recently.

This 2016 Chevrolet police-vehicle brochure photograph shows the Impala Limited on the left and the regular Impala on the right. The steel wheels on the Limited look better than alloys on a cop car, in my opinion.

The tenth-generation Impala had moved from the aging W Platform to the global Epsilon II platform, making it a sibling to such machines as the Opel Insignia and Saab 9-5. It was built for the 2016 through 2020 model years, making it the final Impala. That was quite a run for a model dating back to 1958.

This car is a good old W-Body, a chassis design dating back to the 1988 Buick Regal, Pontiac Grand Prix and Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme.

That meant that the 2014-2016 Impala Limited was a bit shorter and much less roomy inside than the Epsilon-based 2014-2020 Impalas, but so what? Fleet mechanics had been working on W-Bodies for many years and knew them well, plus there was plenty of production capacity available.

GM had taken a similar route with the Chevrolet Classic a decade earlier; the Malibu moved over to the Epsilon platform for 2004 (making it sibling to the Saab 9-3 and Saturn Aura), while the N-Body version remained in production for fleet-only sales through 2006.

The engine in this car is a 3.6-liter High Feature DOHC V6 with variable valve timing, rated at an impressive 302 horsepower and 262 pound-feet. These cars were quick thanks to their curb weight of just over 3,600 pounds.

The only transmission available was a six-speed automatic. In fact, the final model year for a manual transmission in a U.S.-market production Impala was 1973 (when a three-speed column-shift manual was base equipment on six-cylinder cars).

I was traveling and renting cars all over the country during the Impala Limited’s heyday, in my role as wise and respected Chief Justice of the 24 Hours of Lemons Supreme Court, and every Lemons staffer preferred the ninth-generation Impala to all other rental options during the 2006-2016 period. Even when poorly maintained, these cars always run pretty well, plus they came with decent audio systems and plenty of engine power. In fact, we often held drag races between various rental cars on the long straights at road-race tracks; here I am officiating at a race between a rental Maxima and a rental Impala Limited at GingerMan Raceway in Michigan (the Limited won, as it nearly always did).

I always appreciated the AUX input jack in the Impala Limited’s radio when I rented these cars; this very useful feature was still fairly difficult to find in rental-spec cars during the middle 2010s.

The tenth-generation Impala was bigger inside than the Limited and rode more quietly, but I was disappointed when the ninth-gen cars departed rental fleets.

I haven’t documented any first-generation Impalas in junkyards, but I have photographed used-up examples of the second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh generations (including Bel Airs, Biscaynes, Caprices and other members of the Impala family).

Clinkscales Chevrolet in South Carolina had deals on ninth-gen Impalas for you!

It was a whole new animal.



Source link

Junkyard Gem: 1982 Volkswagen Vanagon


Volkswagen began selling Transporter vans in the United States during the early 1950s, with sales continuing through three generations and through the 1991 model year. There are those who will tell you that VW Transporters are now much too sought-after by enthusiasts to ever appear in the big self-service car graveyards I frequent, but they are incorrect. We saw a second-generation Transporter in a Colorado yard last year, and now here’s a third-generation model currently residing in a South Carolina facility.

The T3 Transporter first appeared in the United States as a 1980 model, and it was badged as the Vanagon. This name was a mashup of “van” and “wagon,” which followed decades of VW stubbornly pitching its passenger vans as station wagons (to be fair, Detroit did the same thing with its passenger vans). When Toyota attempted to sell an Americanized version of the MasterAce Surf with “Van Wagon” badges here for 1984, Volkswagen’s lawyers forced them to change the name to, simply, the Toyota Van.

Gasoline-fueled Vanagons had air-cooled engines until well into 1983 (water-cooled diesels with 49 mighty horsepower were available in the Vanagon for 1982 and 1983), but we can see a radiator in the snout of this van. What’s the deal?

The build tag says it started life in Hanover, West Germany as a 1982 model with the 2.0-liter gasoline-burner, so it must have had a Wasserboxer swap later on. I saw an ’81 Vanagon with a similar swap in Colorado a few months back.

The engine was grabbed by a junkyard shopper before I arrived.

Unusually, this van has the optional automatic transmission. The water-cooled VW engines most likely to have been swapped into this van made well below 100 horsepower and the curb weight is close to 3,100 pounds, so this machine would have been very, very slow to accelerate.

Jim Hudson is still selling new cars in Columbia, though not Volkswagens these days.

It turns out that the Vanagon shares its wheel bolt pattern with that of the Mercedes-Benz W123. There’s just one of these wheels installed, but it looks cool.

It’s not rusty and the interior probably wasn’t too bad in its pre-junkyard-arrival state, but the cost to restore one of these vans can be prohibitive.

Essentially a European luxury car. You’d want to avoid hills with a diesel Vanagon and a load of seven passengers.

The Vanagon was all about performance.

The room of a van. The comfort of a station wagon. There’s a crafty dig at Detroit’s recently downsized wagons in this commercial.



Source link

Junkyard Gem: 1997 Saab 9000 CS


With all the junkyard Saab history we’ve seen here, the Saab products born of the alliance between Trollhättan and Turin haven’t gotten their due. Shoehorned between— and among— the Triumph-engined 900 Classics and the GM-era Saabs, a Saab developed in partnership with Fiat was built. This was the 9000, and I’ve found a late-production example in a Denver boneyard.

Saab began working with the mighty Fiat Empire during the late 1970s, resulting in a rebadged and mildly Scandinavized Lancia Delta known as the Saab-Lancia 600. That car’s closest U.S.-market relative was the Fiat Strada, which lived on the same platform. The 600 didn’t sell well and disappeared without leaving much trace, but the Fiat-Saab dealings led to the development of a new platform cooked up by Saab and Lancia engineers, with Giorgetto Giugiaro in charge of the styling: the Type Four.

There were four car models built on the Type Four platform: the Lancia Thema, Fiat Croma, Alfa Romeo 164 and Saab 9000. The 9000 was the first to hit European showrooms, in 1985, and it made its North American debut as a 1986 model. We never got the Thema or Croma here, but the 164 eventually showed up in the United States as a 1991 model.

The 9000 was much roomier inside than the 900 (which was a mid-1970s design based on the late-1960s Saab 99‘s chassis), though it didn’t weigh much more.

9000 production continued through 1998, after which the Opel-related 9-5 took over. 9000 sales overlapped with the similarly GM-derived New 900, beginning with the 1994 model year.

U.S.-market 9000s were available with naturally-aspirated and turbocharged versions of the good old Saab four-cylinder, with ancestry stretching all the way back to the Triumph Dolomite. This car had the 2.3-liter turbo engine (prior to a junkyard shopper removing it), rated at 200 horsepower and 238 pound-feet. For the 1995 through 1998 model years, American car shoppers could buy a new Saab 900 or 9000 with a 3.0-liter Isuzu V6 under the hood.

This car has the base five-speed manual transmission and not the optional four-speed automatic, as is proper for a Saab. If you insisted on the slushbox in your ’97 9000 with four-cylinder power, the price tag was $1,095 ($2,140 in 2024 dollars).

The MSRP for this car was $31,695, or about $62,221 in today’s money.

It didn’t quite reach 200,000 miles during its life. I have never found a discarded Saab showing better than 300,000 miles on its odometer; the best-traveled junkyard Saab I’ve documented was a 1986 900 with 290,699 miles. Meanwhile, I have written about eight retired Volvos that surpassed the 300k mark during their careers, including a 244 with well over 600,000 miles and a 740 Turbo that got within shouting distance of 500,000 miles. Make of this what you will.

The 9000 Aero for 1997 cost nearly ten grand more than the 9000 CS.

Why drive a car when you can pilot a Saab? That Bulgarian choral sound was still pretty trendy in late-1990s Britain.



Source link