Back in the late 1970s and through the 1980s, neo-classic cars like the Stutz Blackhawk and Bearcat were somewhat of a rage. For better or worse, they were cars that evoked the automobiles of the Great Gatsby era far more convincingly than a Chevrolet Monte Carlo or Pontiac Grand Prix ever could. While most of them were based on existing automobiles of the day, arguably none was more unusual than the Zimmer Quicksilver, built by Zimmer Motorcars from 1985 through 1988. This one recently popped up on Marketplace for sale about an hour or so south of The Triple Wide is a 1988.
IYKYK: If this looks like a stretched Pontiac Fiero, you'd be right.
Underneath its swoopy fiberglass body—which makes a third-generation Corvette look like something from East Germany in the 1970s—it's essentially all Fiero, except for power steering. Pontiac Fiero's did not have power steering; Zimmer added it to the Quicksilver.
That also means it's powered by General Motors' corporate 2.8-liter, 60-degree, port-fuel-injected V-6. Making all of 140 horsepower and 170 lb-ft of torque, even with a curb weight of roughly 2,900 pounds, Quicksilvers were no speedsters, even by the relaxed performance standards of the day. All were fitted with a three-speed automatic transmission.
To give the Quicksilver its distinctive long hood, Zimmer stretched the Fiero's structure by roughly 29 inches overall, including 16 inches ahead of the cabin and another section behind the rear wheels. That gave the Quicksilver a total length of roughly 194 inches—about the same length as a then-current fourth-generation, or C4, Corvette.
Still, compared with some of the other monolithic neo-classics of the era, the Quicksilver was downright diminutive. These pictures make it look considerably larger than it actually is.
To substantiate its $52,000-plus asking price when new—an eye-stabbing ton of money in the 1980s not that it isn't now for a car—the Quicksilver came lavishly appointed with leather and genuine wood. And yet, unlike some of its more elaborate neo-classic contemporaries, again, if you know, you know: It's hard not to see its humble Fiero origins once you're inside.
If the Quicksilver had one thing really going for it, it was build quality. Contemporary and later assessments have noted the unusually good fit, finish and quality of the materials for such a low-volume car. That's saying something for an American automobile from an era when build quality was not something anyone took for granted. We're still not quite at Toyota and Honda levels of obsessive manufacturing consistency, but an American car today is hardly the thrown-together boondoggle some of them were decades ago.
One of the many issues facing the Quicksilver was that, despite Zimmer having a dealer network at its peak, this was still an extraordinarily low-volume specialty car. Zimmer reportedly had as many as 48 dealers in 28 states during its heyday, but finding someone who knew the Quicksilver—and was willing to work on its Fiero-based mechanicals and Zimmer-specific modifications—was another matter entirely.
And then there was the competition.
The Quicksilver entered a neo-classic market that was already crowded with established names such as Excalibur, Stutz and Clénet, along with smaller players including Panther and Tiffany. Excalibur was probably the 800-pound gorilla of the bunch. Its cars had been around since the 1960s, had a substantial dealer network and, unlike the Quicksilver, were purpose-built neo-classics rather than heavily restyled versions of mass-produced automobiles. Excalibur was still building its big, chrome-laden cars when the Quicksilver arrived, although it filed for bankruptcy in 1986 and was subsequently reorganized.
Clénet was another formidable name, producing flamboyant, hand-built cars with 1930s-inspired styling, while Stutz had considerable name recognition and celebrity cachet. These cars were aimed at buyers who wanted something more conspicuous than a Mercedes-Benz or Cadillac and weren't particularly concerned about subtlety—or value.
The Quicksilver was different. It wasn't a giant V-8-powered rolling monument like an Excalibur or Stutz. It was a mid-engine, two-seat personal luxury car with the mechanical heart of a Pontiac Fiero and styling that looked as though somebody had stretched a Lincoln Mark-series coupe through a taffy machine. At roughly 170 examples built, it was also considerably rarer than most of its competitors.
Of course, rarity didn't save Zimmer.
The original Zimmer Motor Cars operation was caught up in the financial problems of its parent company, which filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy in 1988. The company was subsequently restructured, and the original Zimmer operation eventually disappeared. The Zimmer name was later revived by an unrelated owner in the 1990s, leading to another generation of neo-classic Zimmers.
So, is the Quicksilver a great car?
Well, that's debatable.
Is it a great Fiero?
Absolutely not.
Is it a great neo-classic?
That's debatable, too.
But is it one of the most gloriously weird automobiles to emerge from the excesses of the 1980s?
Oh, hell yes.
And considering only about 170 were built, seeing one sitting on Facebook Marketplace a few miles south of The Triple Wide makes in blog worthy.
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