Rip Van Winkle was a sleeper, as apparently are certain cells of creepy terrorists. Neither of those however, is as sleeperiffic as today's Nice Price or Crack Pipe Taurus Wagon with an SHO motor. But will its price prove worth losing sleep over?
A lack of proper provenance and a little too much barn found caked to its body proved an overwhelming challenge to yesterday's Cadillacamino's twenty five grand price tag, and it fell in an 89% Crack Pipe loss. Hell, for the kind of scratch that custom's seller was asking you could probably pick up like two or ten Lincoln Blackwoods.
That Caddy was unique in that it was something created to fill a void most people probably didn't even know existed. Today's 1992 Ford Taurus wagon with a 3.2-litre SHO engine, in the other hand, is unique in another way — it's a niche vehicle that never officially was, but everybody knew should be.
The SHO in Ford's SHO Taurus stood for Super High Output, and demonstrating the inexorable march of progress, that original range topping engine's 220-bhp is handily eclipsed by the 240-horses made by the present day Fusion's standard V6. But who cares, the Fusion doesn't come in a wagon, nor does the modern V6 look like sexy snakes when you pop the hood. Sure, there's also a new generation Taurus SHO, but that car is big as a house and still doesn't come as a wagon.
This ‘92 LX is a longroof, and features that form factor's unique flexibility to provide either copious cargo capacity, or seating for eight amiable passengers. Not only does the car sport the freaky-weird Taurus wagon bodystyle, but it also benefits from the tossing of the Vulcan V6 for the 3.2-litre edition of the 4-cam SHO mill and 4-speed AX4S automatic. The 3.2 provided the same 220 horsepower as the previous 3.0, but gained 15 lb-ft in the torque department.
As befitting a true sleeper, those who wedged the SHO motor under the hood refrained from adding any of the sporty model's visual cues to this Taurus. The car even maintains its stock alloys eschewing the far cooler but frustratingly uni-directional slicer wheels of its triple lettered associate. The white paint - which appears to be in pretty good shape - also works as a witness protection for the hot mill.
Inside the 146,000-miler, the wide split bench offers the flexibility of three-abreast seating or the kind of arm rests that always remind me of a boy shark's claspers. The upholstery, made from the skins of thousands of faux mice, looks to have held up remarkably well, as has the dash, although time has been less kind to its styling.
The ad claims that the car has been a reliable daily driver, with a number of wear and tear parts replaced to date. It also notes that some of the parts that usually go missing in an engine swap — things like functioning A/C — are all working here.
The Taurus wagon has not yet realized either classic or ironic fad status, and hence even cars in as nice of condition as this one don't generally get much buzz. This one, melding a high-zoot engine with a clean and serviceable body may just change all that. The seller wants $2,500 for the car, and while that's not like LeMons cheap, it still seems pretty reasonable for a running car, especially one as unique as this one. Or is it? What do you think, is this SHOwagon worth that kind of cash? Or, is that price just for SHO?
H/T to Ian Huzer for the hookup!
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