Just curious how everyone got into this G-Body "scene", so to speak.
Me... I had owned a ton of cars since I started driving, but I mostly considered myself a B-Body guy. I converted a '78 Oldsmobile Delta-88 from a Diesel 350 to a gasoline 350, and then converted that to a 403 (the best part of that car was that it had no catalytic converter and that was legal, because the VIN identified it as a diesel, and they don't get the emissions equipment! Ah, loopholes). I also had a 1987 Caprice Estate station wagon that I fixed up and gave to my mom (and which was subsequently stolen and utterly thrashed by people who felt it necessary to reprogram the stereo to all the Spanish stations). My all-time favorite car, to that point, had been my second car ever... a 350-powered 1977 Caprice Classic.
These cars had met somewhat unceremonious ends (except for the '77 Caprice, which is now living in fully restored, show-car glory somewhere in Virginia) and, in 1999, I was driving a 1984 Caprice Estate wagon out of sheer desperation. The car, which I had named "The Juggernaut", was far from what I'd had in my '77; it was a mess inside... all the plastic was crumbling... the 307 was barely able to chug it along. I was searching for a replacement as I considered it a total loss, but despite an abundance of B-bodies for sale, I could not find one within my price range. At least, not one that ran.
Then, one day, my dad called me up and said, "Would you be open to driving a Grand Prix?" I immediately envisioned the Grand Prix across the street... a 1989, four-door, FWD model that I was not entirely enamored of. My dad had found the particular GP he was speaking of at a local Amoco and, though hesitant, I figured I'd go look at it. After all, the Juggernaut wasn't getting any better.
Instead of being what I expected, there sat this lovely little G-Body with a 231 V6 and disgustingly girly decals everywhere. Apparently the car had belonged to the wife of the guy that owned the gas station and it had been well taken care of. And, most importantly, it vaguely reminded me of a two-door Caprice coupe.
I gave the guy $500 for it and drove it home the same day. It didn't take me more than ten minutes behind the wheel to fall in love with the car. And, though today it's barely recognizable as the car I bought in 1999, I've had her ever since.
So that's my story. How 'bout you guys?
Me... I had owned a ton of cars since I started driving, but I mostly considered myself a B-Body guy. I converted a '78 Oldsmobile Delta-88 from a Diesel 350 to a gasoline 350, and then converted that to a 403 (the best part of that car was that it had no catalytic converter and that was legal, because the VIN identified it as a diesel, and they don't get the emissions equipment! Ah, loopholes). I also had a 1987 Caprice Estate station wagon that I fixed up and gave to my mom (and which was subsequently stolen and utterly thrashed by people who felt it necessary to reprogram the stereo to all the Spanish stations). My all-time favorite car, to that point, had been my second car ever... a 350-powered 1977 Caprice Classic.
These cars had met somewhat unceremonious ends (except for the '77 Caprice, which is now living in fully restored, show-car glory somewhere in Virginia) and, in 1999, I was driving a 1984 Caprice Estate wagon out of sheer desperation. The car, which I had named "The Juggernaut", was far from what I'd had in my '77; it was a mess inside... all the plastic was crumbling... the 307 was barely able to chug it along. I was searching for a replacement as I considered it a total loss, but despite an abundance of B-bodies for sale, I could not find one within my price range. At least, not one that ran.
Then, one day, my dad called me up and said, "Would you be open to driving a Grand Prix?" I immediately envisioned the Grand Prix across the street... a 1989, four-door, FWD model that I was not entirely enamored of. My dad had found the particular GP he was speaking of at a local Amoco and, though hesitant, I figured I'd go look at it. After all, the Juggernaut wasn't getting any better.
Instead of being what I expected, there sat this lovely little G-Body with a 231 V6 and disgustingly girly decals everywhere. Apparently the car had belonged to the wife of the guy that owned the gas station and it had been well taken care of. And, most importantly, it vaguely reminded me of a two-door Caprice coupe.
I gave the guy $500 for it and drove it home the same day. It didn't take me more than ten minutes behind the wheel to fall in love with the car. And, though today it's barely recognizable as the car I bought in 1999, I've had her ever since.
So that's my story. How 'bout you guys?