I’m always surprised at how effective a little suspension tuning and some extra horsepower can be. Stiffen up the springs, add a turbo or a bigger engine, slap a tach in the dash, and you’ve got something just a little more special than the ordinary edition. Today’s cars have some really stodgy relatives, but thanks to more power, they’re lively enough to keep things interesting.
Yesterday’s choices were both low-mileage coupes that your grandma might have driven thirty years ago. You all claimed to hate them, but they sure got you talking, and voting. When the dust settled, the Chevy Cavalier took a narrow win, due mostly to its cockroach-like durability and lack of motorized seat belts.
I think that’s the way to go. General Motors cars get a lot of grief, much of it deserved, but I think they nailed it with the J platform. It provided reliable basic transportation for millions of people, and created a lot of fond memories along the way – not necessarily memories of the car per se, but fond memories nonetheless. You can’t ask more from a cheap little car than that.

Now then, let’s look at some coupes with manual transmissions and some extra horsepower, and see what you make of them.
1984 Renault Fuego Turbo – $4,000

Engine/drivetrain: Turbocharged 1.6-liter OHV inline 4, five-speed manual, FWD
Location: Lebanon, IN
Odometer reading: 203,000 miles
Operational status: Has been sitting for years
Some European cars, for one reason or another, just don’t translate well to the US market. And unfortunately, that includes almost everything built by Renault in the 1970s and ’80s. The Fuego coupe sold like hotcakes in Europe, and it stayed in production in South America well into the ’90s, but it landed with a thud in the US. Secondhand Fuegos gained a reputation for unreliability here, but that seems to have had more to do with poor parts support and kludgy repairs than the car itself. Renault didn’t sell many Fuegos here to begin with, and there are almost none left. The few that remain are often squirrelled away somewhere, like this one.

The Fuego was available with a couple of different engines; this one has a turbocharged version of Renault’s trusty old pushrod four-cylinder. It sits longitudinally in the engine bay, in front of the front axle like an old Audi, and drives the front wheels through a five-speed gearbox. This one last ran several years ago, when it was limped into the warehouse where it now sits. The seller believes a clogged catalytic converter was robbing it of power back then, so it will have to be removed or replaced before you start reviving the engine.

This car has over 200,000 miles on it, so someone got some use out of it. It doesn’t look too bad inside, but the driver’s seat has been replaced, probably because it was worn out. It’s not like these cars are a dime a dozen in junkyards, so a mismatched seat was probably the best they could do.

The Fuego’s styling is kind of a love-it-or-hate-it proposition; I’m personally a fan, but I know some folks just can’t stand it. It is very French, that’s for sure. The seller describes it as “nearly rust-free,” which is about as good as it gets for an ’80s Renault. There is a little rust along the bottom of the doors. It includes three sets of wheels, including the stock wheels, which are probably pretty hard to come by these days.
1992 Ford Tempo GLS – $3,500

Engine/drivetrain: 3.0-liter OHV V6, five-speed manual, FWD
Location: Carrollton, OH
Odometer reading: 116,000 miles
Operational status: Ad doesn’t say, but I’ll presume it runs and drives well enough
To make a muscle car, you take the engine from your big car, jam it under the hood of your small car, add some stripes and flashy wheels, and give it a cool name. That’s it. There’s nothing mystical or magical about it. A GTO was just a LeMans with a Bonneville engine in it. It’s not brain surgery. And the formula didn’t die with the malaise era. Plymouth revived the Duster name for a Sundance with a minivan engine in it, and Chevy’s Cavalier Z24 stole its engine from the mid-sized Celebrity. At the risk of infuriating entire legions of Chevelle SS and Charger R/T fans, I submit that this Tempo GLS, with a V6 engine taken from the Ford Taurus, is more or less a muscle car.

In addition to the big V6, the GLS ups the fun factor with a five-speed manual instead of the sorry excuse for a three-speed automatic found in most Tempos. It also, by the way, has a speedometer that reads to 120 MPH instead of 85 like lesser models. This one has 116,000 miles on it, but that’s all I can tell you; the ad invites you to message for more information. By the way, as of this writing, this car is listed as “Pending,” so if it vanishes before you all get a chance to check it out, I apologize.

I still really like red interiors, but this car highlights one of the problems with them. A few years in the sun turns them pink in places. I had a Ford Probe that did the same thing. It wouldn’t be so bad if everything faded evenly, but the various materials used in a car interior seem to shed pigment at different rates. And yes, this one has the automatic seat belts, and no, I don’t know why the driver’s side is all the way back with the door open. It shouldn’t be.

Outside, it has a rear spoiler you can blame Ford for, and some stripes and a bra that were someone else’s fault. Because it has the spoiler, it doesn’t have the luggage rack on the trunk lid that most two-door Tempos have. It looks like it’s in good condition except for a couple minor dents, but you’d do well to look underneath and make sure it isn’t rusty.
These aren’t the same two-door coupes you see for sale everywhere else; in fact, they’re both pretty damn rare. Is that a good thing? Well, if you like to draw attention at car gatherings, it is. When you’re looking for parts to keep it on the road, not so much. Either way, you have to like the car enough to put in the work. If you had to choose between these two – and you do – which one would you pick?









For anybody who remembers the Omni GLH, where the GLH stood for “Goes Like Hell”, do you also think GLS stands for “Goes Like Shit”?
Somebody went to a ford dealership in 1992.
That somebody asked for a Tempo. I can forgive this because they were cheap and people needed cars that got them from point A to point B.
The salesman then proceeded to talk them into buying the most optioned-up Tempo on the lot, convincing the buyer that they just purchased a hot road for Tempo money.
I’m fictionalizing this last part because I assume the rest of the purchase went down like this:
The salesman blindfolds the buyer and tells him the sales manager is about to surprise him by making a huge fuss over this important purchase.
While the buyer is blindfolded, the salesman walks him past all of the Mustangs – including 5.0 Mustangs – that he could have bought for what he spent on that Tempo, giving him 100 more horsies and a convenient hatchback, and gets him quickly into the sales manager’s office.
Flashing lights and sirens go off as confetti flies everywhere and they hand him the keys to his new Tempo while selling him on undercoating and Scotch Guard. They escort him (past the Escorts, which he also could have gotten a nicer example of) to his Tempo and rush him off the lot. He spies a Mustang out of the corner of his eye, but all the salesmen quickly block his view and wave as he drives off.
I voted Tempo.
That Fuego is just up the road from me. But it’s not even worth having a look at. Too far gone.
With my Autopian Bucks I’ll take the Renault. I had an Alliance and it wasn’t too bad.
With my real money? Neither, best Saab 900 available.
At one point three of my moms siblings owned Tempos. The only one that was reliable was my uncles who had the manual transmission. Honestly don’t know if he had the 4 or 6 cylinder (I’ll assume the 4) but it served him well for a decent number of years.
I’m going for the Renault. That way I can yell out all the fancy french words that I know when I get frustrated while trying to work on the vehicle.
I’ll take the Tempo just for the stripes. The Renault isn’t running and parts are probably unobtainable.
My cousin had a V6 5-speed Tempo, and it was a surprisingly fun little car. I’ll take that over a non-runner I’ll never find parts for, even though that TURBO graphic on the Fuego is pretty perfect.
Another neither day. No reason to ever buy the Fuego and the Tempo is a $2,000 car at best.
Also both are from states on the used car banned list.
I was just admiring the minty Fuego they have at the lane motor museum in Nashville. This is not that, obviously, but it’s still pretty cool and very rare. Still, I would be interested in what the driving experience of that tempo is like.
The Fuego already has 200k on it, which was beyond expectations for the time. Then it’s been sitting for many years. Absolute money pit…the Tempo is already functional and operational. Those stripes are ridiculous in a not-the-worst, definitely-not-great way. No brainer for the tempo.