1994 25th Anniversary Edition Pontiac Firebird Trans Am - Funny Thing About Living the Dream...

I swear, sometimes these things find me.

When I came out of the gym the other day, this 1994 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am was parked a couple of spaces down from where I'd left my car in the parking garage. This wasn't just any Trans Am, though. It was a 25th Anniversary Trans Am.

It threw me for a bit of a loop at first. Pontiac introduced the Firebird in 1967, and these fourth-generation cars debuted for the 1993 model year. A fourth-generation, 25th Anniversary Trans Am? Then it dawned on me. While the Firebird arrived in 1967, the Trans Am didn't make its debut until 1969, just before the first-generation Firebird was put out to pasture after the '69 model year.

Ironically, although Pontiac campaigned first-generation Firebirds in the SCCA Trans-Am racing series during the late 1960s, it never raced a production Trans Am. The series limited engines to five liters (305 cubic inches), while the first Trans Ams came standard with Pontiac's 400-cubic-inch (6.6-liter) V-8.

Pontiac built just 2,000 of these 25th Anniversary cars, so running into one is a little like spotting a local celebrity—a star athlete or the city's best-known TV news anchor. Exciting, interesting and, at the same time, no big deal.

It's been so long now that not only are these Anniversary Trans Ams unicorns, but you hardly ever see worn-out, sun-faded, crusty fourth-generation Firebirds anymore. Like their Camaro cousins, they wore composite body panels that resisted dents and corrosion far better than conventional steel bodywork, helping many survive better than their predecessors.

Their steel unibody structures? That's another story, especially up here along the shores of Lake Erie, where our vehicles are marinated in salty brine for the better part of the year.

While I fell hard for the fourth-generation Chevrolet Camaro—I owned three of them over the years—these cars always left me a little flat-footed. I've always preferred the Camaro's more restrained styling.

For about $995 more than a Trans Am GT—which itself cost roughly $1,000 more than a standard Trans Am—buyers got an all-white car with distinctive Tyrol Blue graphics inspired by the original 1969 Trans Am. A single Tyrol Blue stripe ran from the nose over the roof and onto the hatch, or across the convertible's boot cover.

The 16-inch, five-spoke aluminum wheels were painted white, and inside were white leather seats embroidered with blue "25th Trans Am" logos on the headrests.

Mechanically, these cars were essentially Trans Am GTs wearing a commemorative paint-and-trim package. The GT package added Z-rated 155-mph tires, the tall pedestal rear spoiler and, on automatic-equipped cars, a 3.23:1 rear axle ratio. Standard Trans Ams with the automatic received a 2.73:1 axle, while six-speed cars used a 3.42:1 rear axle.

Power came from Chevrolet's 275-horsepower LT1 5.7-liter V-8, backed by either a Borg-Warner T56 six-speed manual—available only in coupes—or GM's electronically controlled 4L60E automatic. Four-wheel disc brakes with ABS were standard, and a six-speed car could cover the quarter-mile in the mid-14-second range, making it one of America's quickest performance cars in 1994.

The Anniversary package was available on hardtops, T-top coupes and convertibles. The car parked in the garage is the most common configuration: a T-top with the automatic transmission. The rarest of the bunch is the six-speed hardtop. Pontiac built 500 convertibles, and every one of them came with an automatic.

Like fourth-generation Camaros, these aren't for the faint of heart. They ride low and firm, have an awkward driving position, handle well—but not quite as well as they should—the steering is numb and short on feedback, the catalytic converter intrudes into the front passenger's footwell, they're difficult to get in and out of, and the back seat is practically ornamental.

As they age, it's also becoming increasingly difficult to find technicians who understand mid-1990s GM electronics, especially the OBD-I systems that preceded standardized OBD-II diagnostics in 1996.

The LT1 is a terrific engine, but it does have one notorious Achilles' heel. The water pump sits directly above the OptiSpark distributor. When the pump inevitably begins to leak, coolant can drip directly onto the OptiSpark, often turning one repair into two. If you're handy with a wrench, it's manageable. If you're paying someone else, your wallet probably won't appreciate it.

Like fourth-generation Camaros, the power window motors eventually fail, and replacing them is more aggravating than it should be because they're riveted into the doors. Plastic interior panels also become brittle with age, crack easily and are eye-wateringly expensive—if you can even find replacements.

When I was younger, I was all about these kinds of cars and more than willing to put up with their quirks and idiosyncrasies. Now all I see is a festival of compromise—especially as a daily driver. As a weekend toy, though, something like this makes a lot more sense.

I asked my 29-year-old, quasi-car-guy son what he thought of it. His response, and I quote, was, "Smokin' hot."

Like father, like son, I guess.

Funny thing about living the dream: once you finally get there, it can rob the experience of the mystery, intrigue and elan that made you want it so badly. 

General Motors ended production of the fourth-generation Camaro and Firebird after the 2002 model year. Pontiac itself disappeared seven years later when GM shuttered the division in 2009.

  

1994 Chevrolet Caprice Classic - Baby LT1

 

I felt like a kid on Christmas morning that summer day in 1990 when my new car magazine arrived with a first road test review of a new-for-'91 Chevrolet Caprice (our subject here is a 1994). I hadn't even seen a glimpse of what these were going to be except reading oh-so-vague teases about the wonderful design innovations Chevrolet had in store for the first major update of the venerable Caprice since 1977. I was put off by the lack of a coupe but the fact that Chevrolet was coming with a new, rear-wheel-drive, V-8 powered Caprice was enough to make me feel as though I was living through the glory days of GM and it was 1960 all over again. In a good way. 

                                                                                  

Talk about being led to believe Santa's was bringing you a puppy and you clothing instead. These things hit Chevrolet showroom floors in late 1990 with a profound thud. 

Heralded at first as GM at it's finest with regards to design and engineering, their much bally-hooed 1977 downsized full-sized cars had grown very long in the tooth, make that very, long in the tooth by the time they finally updated them starting with the Caprice (and Buick Roadmaster) for 1991. 

Unlike GM of the '50's and '60's with a near revolution of design of their wares seemingly every year if not two and no longer than three, changes to the "class of '77" were incremental if not anecdotal over the years. And then 1991 came around. 

Looking somehow larger than they actually were, they were only about an inch longer than the 1977-1990 Caprice's they replaced but they were almost two inches wider. The jokes started flying immediately about how much they looked like whales. Beached whales.

Nicknamed "Shamu" after the famous killer whale, Chevrolet did their best to alter the appearance for 1993 by removing their most distinctive styling detail, the pseudo-rear fender skirts that made the back ends look like '49 Nash's. Careful what you wish for. 

You'd think the revised rear quarters would have resulted in a Caprice resembling a 1992 Ford Crown Victoria, as if that would've been a good thing but it would have been an improvement, but if you notice, the rear axle didn't line up with the fender opening resulting in making a wonky design amazingly even more wonky. Doing it "right" would have required a major design and engineering reboot of the rear of the car; a costly and time consuming process that got nixed no doubt because General Motors was going to harpoon these things anyway come model year 1997. 

Under the hood things actually got interesting for '94 as General Motors slipped in a somewhat detuned version of  of the venerable "LT1" engine first introduced on the 1992 Corvette; please note that's "LT1" not "LT-1" of early 1970's Chevy engine fame. In the Caprice, Buick Roadmaster and Cadillac Fleetwood Brougham, it was fitted with iron heads and different intake and exhaust manifolds, purportedly to make less noise, and made 260-horsepower and 330 foot-pounds of torque. Not quite the 300-horsepower the Corvette engine made but it was quite the upgrade. Contemporary road tests clocking the "LT1" Caprice from zero-to-sixty in 6.6-seconds.  That's ho-hum today but thirty years ago that kind of performance in family-sedan was borderline hedonistic. 

However, not all Caprice's of this vintage were created equal. Our black-on-maroon Shamu here is powered by the "L-99" version or what's referred to as the "baby LT1". Displacing 4.3-liters or 263-cubic inches, with it's shorter stroke and smaller bore, it made 200 horsepower and 245 foot-pounds; about what the engines it replaced made - the throttle-body fuel injected 5.7 making in horsepower and the 5.0 making in torque. 

The "L-99" was a bit of an odd and unique duck, or whale, with its mission either to provide better fuel economy than the bigger 5.7 did or was an excuse to charge more for the bigger engine. Spend money to make money, I guess. It was only offered on the Caprice. 

The larger 5.7 engine was featured in the big dog Impala SS Chevrolet made from 1994-1996. With it's lowered suspension, meaty tires and monochromatic paint and finish schemes, the funky, skirt-free rear quarters worked quite well aesthetically. The smaller rims, standard suspension and chrome trim on the Caprice doing updated '94-'96 Shamu's no favors. 

While the '94-'96 Impala SS is one of the rare '90's sedans, domestic or foreign, that's actually appreciating in value, Caprice's like this are languishing. This one here, despite it's near immaculate condition, is for sale with an asking price of $6,995. An Impala SS in this kind of shape would have an asking price north of twenty-grand if not more. 

I'd have a hard time dropping that kind of money for a '94-'96 Impala SS - they're still mid-'90's GM junk inside but that's just me. However, if you've got a hankering for the bad old days of '90's General Motors, comment below and I'll do my best to hook you up with this Caprice. I've seen these were someone has attempted to make them into Impala SS clones and most of them look like what they are; my advice is to keep it as it is and drive it for what it as such.