Oh how the mighty have fallen. That oft-quoted biblical passage is what first came to my mind when I spotted this 1990 Taurus SHO in the U-Pull-It yard. Amazingly intact and lacking any obvious evidence as to why this became its ultimate fate, the final blow was dealt when I remembered that all of these first-gen cars had their Yamaha-derived power manually transmitted. Let’s pay our respects after the jump.
The junkyard is egalitarian, that goes without saying. In this one, where this once feted SHO sits tail to nose with a plebeian later model, you’ll also find a sad Porsche 928 plopped fender to fender amidst a moribund Mitsubishi and a sedentary Saturn. By the way, why Junkyards always lump Saturns in with the imports is beyond me, but in my experience, they all do.
The Taurus was sitting at the end of a row of Fords, and even sported three of its original basket weave alloy wheels, all perfectly serviceable, although liberated of their center caps. All of the SHO-specific bodywork, including the rocker extensions, proprietary bumper caps, and side cladding, where intact, as was the nest of snakes under the hood.
In 1990, that Yamaha-designed 3.0 pumped out 220-bhp. That is perhaps laughable today, but it was a wicked boost over the non-SHO V6, and did make the Taurus an honest to goodness member of the sub-7 second zero to sixty club. Its 143 mph top speed also elevated the sportiest of the Tauri into the echelon of the sport sedan elite. At the time, there was really nothing on the market like the SHO, although the earlier Pontiac 6000 STE attempted. That car was made available with a Getrag 5-speed, but it could only be had paired with a feeble 135-horse 2.8. In comparison the SHO. . . well, really there really is no comparison.
Sadly, the Mazda-engineered and built 5-speed gearbox was not known for being particularly robust, nor was the leather chosen to cover the highly bolstered seats. Other minor annoyances plagued the SHO, just like any other older car, and strangely enough, that’s what they’ve become, just another old car. There’s no way to tell if this one’s cogs were the reason for its demise, or if it was some other monkey in its wrench, but the driver’s seat does show wear and tear sufficient enough to possibly have made it the straw that broke the Taurus’ back.
The interior on this one has seen a lot more nibbling by eager parts gatherers than has the rest of the car, but the IP, with its full compliment of gauges, as well as the leather-wrapped SRS steering wheel, still remain for either the parts pickers or the crusher. With the leather on the front seats torn to shreds (the back bench was in fine shape) and the wiring loom turned riot, gazing inside gave me a big bowl of sad. This car didn’t look like it had been too far gone, and soon pretty much all the old SHOs either will be gone, or will live only in museums.
That’s a shame because these are cars built to be driven. A card laying haphazardly on the driver’s seat carried the words The Hope for Easter, which of course is a holiday dedicated to resurrection. It seems a cruel joke that it lies in a car that, should it rise again, will only be as parts of other cars kept alive through its demise.
All images ©2013 Robert Emslie, All Rights Reserved
![http://colsblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/shitty_day-300×278.jpg">](http://colsblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/shitty_day-300x278.jpg">){kind=link}
![http://www.onemoregadget.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/cheese-grater-toilet-paper-2.jpg">](http://www.onemoregadget.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/cheese-grater-toilet-paper-2.jpg">){kind=link}
Leave a Reply