Junkyard Find: Furiously Modified 1995 Honda Accord Coupe

Murilee Martin
by Murilee Martin
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junkyard find furiously modified 1995 honda accord coupe
In the 1970s and 1980s, American roads were full of Detroit machinery with loud exhaust, aftermarket fiberglass hood scoops, fat tires, and air shocks lifting the rear end high enough to show the slapper bars on the leaf springs. A couple of decades later, automotive-modification fashions had changed, with Japanese and South Korean cars covered with futuristic plastic body kits and sporting 6-inch diameter tailpipes (on 1.5-inch exhaust systems).Here’s a good example of a mid-1990s Accord, done up with mid-2000s-style “import tuner” add-ons, found in a Colorado automotive graveyard.
This car had just over 150,000 miles on the clock when it met this sorry fate. That’s much lower than the reading I see on most junkyard Hondas of this era.
This doesn’t look like very severe crash damage, but it must have been enough to send the car into The Crusher‘s ecosystem.
Owner’s of fifth-generation Accords still have a very wide selection of body components and kits available. The hood scoop has a somewhat 1980s-Detroit look about it.
Under the hood, a tube header and a blue-painted valve cover add precisely zero horsepower (unless the camshafts have been changed to take advantage of the slightly better-flowing exhaust, which I doubt very strongly).
Anyway, it’s an automatic car, so we can assume it wasn’t living life a quarter-mile at a time (like this Scion tC must have done).
I’m all for making boring commuter appliances look cool, but I think it’s best to start out with a three-pedal car. They’re cheaper, anyway.
Still cheap!
Because the fifth-gen Accord had grown to American dimensions, it cost quite a bit to register in space-constrained Japan.If you like these Junkyard Finds, you’ll find links to 1,700+ more of them at The Junkyard Home of the Murilee Martin Lifestyle Brand™.
Murilee Martin
Murilee Martin

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  • Forward_look Forward_look on Nov 11, 2019

    Sic transit gloria mundi.

  • Crabspirits Crabspirits on Nov 11, 2019

    "Bam-Bam" Nam felt like the whole world was gapping him. "Nam (pronounced in a most Southern Caucasian " 'nam"), your table needs some attention.", called Bam-Bam's pit-boss. Bam-Bam registered that it must be a problem with their bill, mentally preparing himself for some customers who, rightly, would plausibly complain about a baffling debt. He grabbed the Awesome Blossom from beneath the heating lamp, delivering it stealthily to Table 5, enroute to a ruffled Table 8. "What is this charge for this...is this the tablet thing?", they balked. Nam sighed, and might as well have been watching this woman, with the correct may-I-speak-to-your-manager haircut, place what tip might have been back into her purse. His closing shift now over, a dejected Nam strode out to his almost abandoned-looking Accord. The glowing red pepper reflected in it's rear window suddenly was extinguished, giving him a latent feeling of relief. He opened the door. His nostrils were suddenly filled with the scent of a dying Marine Squash Air Spencer trying it's damnedest to beat back the aroma of fry oil, onion, and American cheese. He slid all 4'11" under the tight confines of the steering column, and settled into the fissured leather. Bam-Bam cranked the key, which reliably resulted in a very Honda "chip-chip-chip" sound, followed by a smooth puttering drone that delighted him in the same vein as receiving bottle service at a McDonald's. Nam checked his phone for updates on the mass text. It looked like everyone he knew was already at the 1320 C.C. meet. He scrolled through various messages discussing if certain people would be there, followed by queries such as "Is he bringing the FD?" Bam-Bam was not one of those people. He turned on his headlights and slipped the shifter into "R". Before swapping to "D", he noticed a familiarly-primer colored object laying in the parking lot. "What the...F?" He exited the thrumming Honda and arrived at the scene of what used to be his passenger front fender. He scanned 360° in the empty parking lot for a perpetrator or witnesses and found none. Perhaps he could check the security cameras, he thought. No. It didn't matter. He eyed the area where an unknown previous owner carefully buttered the Vader kit to the fender. The hairline crack in the hand-sculpted body filler had been replaced by a primer-crusted chasm. "There's no getting it painted now.", he thought. It was followed up a split second later by a recoiling "HA!" from his internal self. As if the envisioned Big Bird yellow plan would have even become a reality. Nam stood back for a moment, looking at this artifact from an automotive subculture that had collapsed under it's own weight. Clearly, spending the $800 for that paint job would be better spent paying down the spiteful interest on his obligation to his credit card. Hell, it would better be spent simply lighting it on fire. Still, something had to be said aloud for this infraction. "Thanks." The black steelie-shod Accord exited the Denver Boulder Turnpike onto Flatiron. There in the Twin Peaks parking lot rested a horde of performance machines glistening under high intensity lamps. Bam-Bam dropped the Honda into low range to simulate a downshift in case anyone in the crowd noticed. They didn't. He then hid the Accord in the Starbucks lot. After being jubilantly greeted by many friends, the topic of discussion segued to his long-stolen Integra Type R. "That thing was so sick.", he was told. It wasn't helpful to his mood. A mental montage flash-depicted a smaller than expected check from the insurance, followed by many checks signed to Visa. "Yeah.", he smiled. The last of Bam-Bam's friends exited the parking lot, waving from vehicles that had made the transition to the next automotive sect. That was Nam's cue to leave. Not just from the physical dark and cold parking lot, but the metaphorical one as well. To simply scrap a perfectly drivable Honda seemed ridiculous to him at first, but that was what he was going to do. Bam-Bam handed his friend Teo a very thin stack of the ransom paid for Honda blood. They shook hands ceremoniously, and Nam was handed a pink slip along with one very very weathered Acura key. "Thanks." "What are friends for, homie?"

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    • CarOli CarOli on Jan 05, 2020

      My father bought one of the first 1994 Accords (first year for that body style)...an EX 4 door with stick In a neat dark blue Pearl metallic. I remember riding around and people noticing the car wondering what it was. Of course these were everywhere after a few months but it was fun to have an early one. I often suspected my dads ended up like this after he sold it back in 1999.

  • Lou_BC My son already has a Scout EV. Well, okay, RC....
  • The Oracle I was in WNY when this went down and it is likely a medical issue and/or some type of rolling domestic. That car was flat out with air bags deployed before it even left the ground. It was a spectacular wreck. The couple made a 7-minute stop at the Seneca Niagara Casino before the fiery launch, and something went terribly wrong in those 7 minutes.
  • Lorenzo A union in itself doesn't mean failure, collective bargaining would mean failure.
  • Ajla Why did pedestrian fatalities hit their nadir in 2009 and overall road fatalities hit their lowest since 1949 in 2011? Sedans were more popular back then but a lot of 300hp trucks and SUVs were on the road starting around 2000. And the sedans weren't getting smaller and slower either. The correlation between the the size and power of the fleet with more road deaths seems to be a more recent occurrence.
  • Jeff_M It's either a three on the tree OR it's an automatic. It ain't both.