Which Invisible Sedan Would You Disappear In? 2003 Buick Century vs 2005 Chevy Malibu

We’ve been looking at cars I know a lot of you dislike this week, but today we’re going to change gears (metaphorically; they’re both still automatics) and look at two cars you probably don’t have any opinion about at all. And that can be advantageous, in some cases. Keeping a nice low profile can keep you out of a lot of trouble.

Yesterday’s old-people cars would have been practically invisible once upon a time, but nowadays they’re both so rare that they stand out. Show up to any place that anyone cares about cars in either one of them, and you’ll draw attention to yourself. And you’ll probably hear a lot of stories about a car someone’s family or friend or ex used to drive that was just like it. The vote was close, but the Chrysler LeBaron finished slightly ahead, despite being more expensive.

I have experience with both of these; I owned a ’92 Tempo coupe for a couple of years, and I’ve had a number of K-cars and derivatives. The Tempo wasn’t a bad car, and it did fine on weekend freeway trips (I was living just outside Chicago and dating a girl in Milwaukee at the time), but it felt tired and used-up by the time it hit 100,000 miles. K-cars seem to hold up better over the long haul. So I feel like the LeBaron is the right choice here.

There might be no less noticeable vehicle in the US than a twenty-year-old mid-sized General Motors sedan, especially in rural areas. Cars like these are everywhere, and nobody pays them any attention at all. And I kind of love them for that. Why would anyone want to be so invisible, you ask? Are they up to no good? Not necessarily; maybe they’re just introverted. Or don’t think it’s anybody’s damn business where they go or what they do. Or, maybe they’ve just entered the witness protection program. Whatever the reason, these cars will give you more anonymity for fifteen hundred bucks than a whole Q Branch’s worth of gadgets. Need to disappear? Pull into the parking lot of any Wal-Mart or large apartment complex, and poof – you’re gone. Let’s take a look at them. No, not those; these ones over here. There ya go.

2003 Buick Century – $1,500

Engine/drivetrain: 3.1-liter OHV V6, four-speed automatic, FWD

Location: Medford, OR

Odometer reading: 230,000 miles

Operational status: Runs and drives great

Believe it or not, the original Buick Century back in 1936 was a performance car. The name “Century” was chosen because it could cruise at 100 miles an hour, quite an achievement in those days. I’m guessing that this one could do a hundred as well, but so can pretty much anything. This sixth-generation Century is based on GM’s venerable W platform, like its sibling the Regal, but the Century was set up with softer suspension and more traditional trim.

The engine in this Century was GM’s go-to powerplant for a quarter of a century: the 60-degree V6 first introduced in 1980. By 2003, it had been blessed with sequential fuel injection, and put out 170 horsepower. This one has been around the block a few hundred thousand times, but it still runs great, according to the seller. That’s about all the seller has to say, though. If you want to know more, you’ll have to go look at it in person.

The Century featured a split bench seat and a column-mounted shifter, instead of the Regal’s bucket seats and center console. It was an anachronism even in 2003, but some older buyers still preferred that layout. This one seems to be holding up remarkably well for the mileage, but there’s no word on how many of the interior gadgets still work.

It looks pretty good outside too, neither too clean and shiny nor obviously damaged, perfect for clandestine use. And it’s silver, like half the old Buicks on the road. Being a southern Oregon car, it should be more or less rust-free, too, so it can hide in plain sight for a good long while yet.

2005 Chevrolet Malibu Classic – $1,500

Engine/drivetrain: 2.2-liter DOHC inline 4, four-speed automatic, FWD

Location: West Jordan, UT

Odometer reading: 149,000 miles

Operational status: Runs and drives great, but burns some oil

Chevy brought back the Malibu nameplate in 1997 after a fourteen-year hiatus for this car, a replacement for the Corsica sedan. It’s based on the N platform, along with the Pontiac Grand Am and Oldsmobile Alero. This car was more or less replaced by an all-new design for the 2004 model year, but Chevy kept this design in production for a couple more years as the Malibu Classic. I’m not sure how much of a classic anyone thought it was, but it was cheap and practical, and it looks like at least one person bought one.

The only drivetrain available in the Classic was a 2.2-liter Ecotec four-cylinder and a 4T40-E automatic transmission. This one has been showered with more love than any Malibu I’ve ever seen: the seller includes a long list of recent repairs and service, including a new timing chain kit, transmission fluid and filter, tires, battery, and more. I’m sure there’s more than $1,500 worth of parts and labor there, making this a great deal. It runs and drives well, but it does go through a quart of oil between fill-ups, with no sign of where it’s going. Often, when this happens, it’s the fault of the PCV system. Unfortunately, this engine doesn’t have an easily replaceable PCV valve; it’s just a little orifice inside the intake manifold. Pulling the manifold and cleaning it out is a chore, but it might be worth it, so you don’t have to keep adding oil.

This one looks all right inside as well; these two are laying to rest the notion that mid-2000s GM interiors don’t hold up. It doesn’t even look dirty. It has an aftermarket stereo and speakers, and everything works, including the air conditioning. It’s not the most exciting interior ever put in a car, but comfy seats and good strong HVAC go a long way.

It’s a little rougher outside than the Buick; it has a little rust, the windshield is cracked, and the paint isn’t the best. But in some places, that actually adds to its camouflage. You might want to take a peek underneath and make sure the rust isn’t too advanced, though.

Hopefully, you never have a need to travel incognito. But if you did, you could do a lot worse than a twenty-year-old General Motors sedan. But nobody should spend much money on such a contrivance, which makes these two a good deal at $1,500 each. So which form of invisibility would you take?