Top 20 Chevy Garbage Engines: The Hall of Shame

Top 20 Chevy Garbage Engines: The Hall of Shame

Alright, pull up a stool and don’t spill your beer.

If you want to know which Chevy engines are the biggest piles of scrap to ever roll out of Detroit, you came to the right corner of the internet.

I’m Danny, and this is my Hall of Shame—the real, no-BS countdown of the 20 worst engines ever to disgrace a Chevy engine bay.

Ready to count down?

I’m not sugarcoating a thing.

This list goes from "bad" to "I can’t believe GM let this thing out the door." Let’s get greasy.


20. 1975 Chevrolet 262 V8 – The Little V8 That Couldn’t

If you’ve ever wanted a V8 that makes a four-cylinder Cavalier look like a race car, meet the infamous 262.

In 1975, GM tried to dodge the gas crisis by shrinking the classic small block down to 262 cubic inches.

It made about 110 horsepower—on a perfect day, downhill, with the wind at your back.

Evidence

Only 110hp, with torque so low you’ll swear the parking brake is on.

Made for compacts like the Monza. Lasted exactly one year. That tells you everything.

Forum legends: “It couldn’t pull a fat kid off a tricycle.”

Most were swapped out for 350s before they hit 60k.

Shop Story

I lost count of how many 262s I yanked out of tired Monzas, Vegas, and weird mid-’70s compacts.

Half the time, the customer just wanted anything better—even a straight-six.

My advice was always the same: “Don’t waste money trying to build power.

Just get a 350, bolt it in, and thank yourself later.”

Verdict

If you wanted a V8 badge and nothing else, this was your engine.

Reliable? Sure, but reliable boredom is still boredom.

It was so anemic that even reliability didn’t save it.

You’ll spend more time dreaming of engine swaps than driving.

Anyone bragging about their numbers-matching 262 is either a comedian or a masochist.

Next up: The legendary “boat anchor” V8 that made millions of drivers ask, “Is this all I get?”


19. Chevrolet 305 V8 (1976–1992) – The Gutless “Boat Anchor”

Here’s the 305—a motor so infamous, its reputation still gets roasted at cruise nights 40 years later.

GM’s “one size fits all” solution to post-emissions malaise.

It’s everywhere: Camaros, Caprices, pickups, and more.

Evidence

Emissions-strangled to as little as 130–145 hp. Peak output rarely broke 170.

Found in performance cars where it had no business living. ‘80s Camaro with a 305? You got smoked by minivans.

Mechanics dubbed it “the boat anchor”—heavy, reliable, and best used to hold your fishing line.

Weak, small-valve heads and low compression killed any hope for fun. Even with bolt-ons, most would barely make what a stock 350 does from the factory.

Shop Story

Hot-rodders lined up at my door for years wanting to ditch 305s for 350s.

One customer in particular swapped three different cams into his Monte Carlo SS before admitting defeat.

He finally bought a junkyard 350, dropped it in, and picked up 60 hp instantly.

The 305 block sat in my yard for months—nobody wanted it, not even for free.

Verdict

The 305’s only crime is that it never tried to be exciting.

It will run forever—just slow.

If you needed to teach your kid how to work on a V8 without worrying about him breaking anything, the 305 was perfect.

But in a world where speed matters, this was the engine that made you wish for rain—so you’d have an excuse to stay home.

Still think small cubes can work? Wait ‘til you see what happens when GM goes even smaller…


18. 1979–1982 Chevrolet 267 V8 – The V8 Nobody Asked For

You thought the 305 was lazy? Meet the 267, a V8 so unremarkable that most mechanics have erased it from memory as a coping mechanism.

Evidence

115–125hp, which is less than some four-cylinders today. In a Malibu, you’d get left behind by city buses.

Smaller bore than a 305, which means tiny valves, restricted breathing, and no power. Even hot-rodders passed on these—no parts, no hope.

Market value: You can’t even give one away. People at swap meets treat these like radioactive waste.

Shop Story

Once, a customer wanted to “wake up” his 267-powered Impala. I told him, “You’d get more horsepower throwing a bottle of nitrous in the trunk and hoping it leaks.”

We pulled the 267, tossed it into the scrap pile, and the car finally started living its best life with a used 350.

Verdict

A 305 that’s even duller. It didn’t have the decency to die early; it just faded away, unloved and unwanted.

If you find one, swap it out—quick. GM built over a million, and still nobody wants them.

Ready for boost? Let’s see how GM botched turbocharging before it was cool.


17. 1980–1981 Pontiac 301 Turbo V8 – Boosted and Busted

The legend of the Turbo Trans Am usually starts and ends with Smokey and the Bandit fans.

But this motor? It made more enemies than fans.

Evidence

Turbo lag so long you could microwave popcorn waiting for boost. Zero to 60? Only if you started yesterday.

Officially 210 hp, but real-world dynos saw far less, especially with 3.08 rear gears and smog-era exhaust.

Pontiac warned buyers not to use full throttle for long—imagine buying a “performance car” that comes with an asterisk: “Do not attempt performance.”

Common failures: Blown head gaskets, cooked turbos, melted pistons, chronic knock.

Shop Story

Turbo Trans Am limped in, owner fuming after losing a stoplight race to a Chrysler K-car.

The head gaskets were toast, and the turbo was cooked.

GM tried to sell this as “advanced engineering,” but every shop knew it meant more work, more parts, more heartache.

Verdict

A bold idea, ruined by lousy execution. These cars now command collector money, but back in the day, most owners swapped in a 400 or 455 and pretended the turbo never existed.

It gets a spot on this list for being the engine that made turbocharging a dirty word at GM for a decade.

Want early fuel injection? Watch out for the next disaster…


16. 1982–1984 “Cross-Fire Injection” V8 – Cease-Fire, Misfire, What’s the Difference?

You see dual throttle bodies on a Corvette, you get excited. Then you drive a Cross-Fire. Hopes: up. Reality: down.

Evidence

Advertised as “digital fuel injection,” but mostly delivered digital headaches.

Infamous for hard starts, misfires, surging, and stalling. Early 80s electronics + vacuum leaks = mechanic’s nightmare.

Even the name: mechanics called it “Cease-Fire.”

Corvette and Camaro forums are graveyards of angry owners.

Shop Story

One customer bought a “mint” Cross-Fire Corvette, then begged me to swap it to a carburetor three months later.

Vacuum diagrams were more complicated than wiring a spaceship, and the check engine light was always on for something new.

Verdict

Ahead of its time, but nowhere near ready.

These cars look cool but drive like a science experiment gone wrong. You’ll spend more on diagnostic time than on the actual car.

Most ended up with carb swaps or LS conversions. It’s a cautionary tale: Just because it’s “fuel injected” doesn’t mean it’s better.

Ready to be let down by modern turbo tech? The next engine is for you…


15. 2011–2016 GM 1.4L Turbo (LUJ/LUV) – The Little Engine That Could…Fail

Here’s the modern heartbreaker: the 1.4L turbo used in millions of Chevy Cruzes, Sonics, and Buick Encores. Promised power, delivered pain.

Evidence

Factory turbo, but with a plastic coolant outlet prone to cracking. If you ever smell coolant, just assume it’s failed.

Oil leaks, blown turbos, failed thermostat housings. Pistons with holes, thanks to lean running and weak internals.

The infamous PCV check valve failure, which requires a whole new intake manifold. I’ve done this swap more times than I’ve replaced spark plugs.

Average repair bills for a Cruze with these issues: $1,200–$2,800.

Shop Story

Customer limped in with a shaking, smoking Cruze.

Diagnosis? Cracked thermostat housing, leaking turbo, intake manifold full of gunk.

By the time he paid the bill, he could’ve put a down payment on a used Corolla.

Verdict

Modern turbo “economy” that costs more than it saves.

If you get 100k out of one without a major repair, play the lottery. This engine’s only upside?

It teaches new car buyers to check their oil—and their warranty.

Think V6 is safe? Not this one. The ‘Iron Plague’ cometh…


14. 1980–1985 Chevrolet 2.8L V6 (60° “Iron Plague”) – Small Displacement, Big Problems

GM’s 2.8 was supposed to modernize compact cars, S-10s, and X-cars. Instead, it became the V6 nobody wanted.

Evidence

Rated 110–130 hp, but the real problem was inside: undersized crankshaft bearings and weak oiling.

Prone to spinning bearings, blowing head gaskets, and premature cam wear—many failed under 80k.

Infamous in Jeep Cherokees (which used this engine briefly). “Iron Plague” nickname is not an exaggeration.

Shop Story

Had an ’85 Camaro Berlinetta come in at 70k miles—knocking like a jackhammer. Rebuilt the top end, only to have the bottom end give out a year later.

I told the owner, “Sell it before it gets hungry again.”

Verdict

Some engines get a bad rep unfairly. Not the 2.8. It earned every ounce of hate.

A little torque, but you’d better save for a rebuild—because you’ll need it before the odometer even hits six digits.

Avoid unless you like gambling.

But wait, there’s more—meet the V6 that cost GM a lawsuit…


13. 1995–2003 GM 3.1L/3.4L V6 (“V6 of Doom”) – Leaky by Design

Meet the infamous “V6 of Doom”—found in millions of mid-’90s to early 2000s Malibus, Grand Ams, and even minivans. GM somehow made a V6 that leaked more than it ran.

Evidence

Plastic intake manifold gaskets and Dex-Cool coolant—like peanut butter and jelly for engine failure.

EVERY SINGLE ONE eventually leaks internally. Coolant gets in the oil, oil in the coolant. Sludge city.

Owners faced blown head gaskets, overheating, even complete engine death after warranty.

Class-action lawsuit in the late 2000s. GM paid out millions. Still didn’t fix it right.

Shop Story

I stocked Fel-Pro replacement gaskets like toilet paper during COVID. Pulled countless top ends, saw enough sludge to fill an oil drum.

Customers always shocked—“How did it fail so soon?”

Verdict

When a motor design spawns a multi-million-dollar lawsuit, you know it’s junk.

Plastic where metal should be, gaskets that fail early, and Dex-Cool disasters.

If you see one for sale cheap? It’s for a reason. Just walk away.

Now for the V6 that’s a mechanic’s curse—complex, fragile, and a pain to fix…


12. 1991–1997 Chevrolet 3.4L DOHC V6 (LQ1) – Complexity Without Reliability

On paper, the 3.4 DOHC was GM’s “Euro-fighter”—high-tech, high-strung, and a high-maintenance headache.

Evidence

Twin cams, 32 valves, and a rat’s nest of belts, chains, and wires. Timing belt changes meant half the car apart.

210 hp at 5,200 rpm, but nothing down low. Felt fast only if you revved it to the moon—and prayed the timing belt didn’t snap.

Oil leaks from every seal, ignition failures, and hard-to-access components.

Real-world cost: a simple timing job is $1,200–$1,800 if you can find someone who’ll do it.

Shop Story

Z34 Monte Carlo came in with a skip and rattle.

Timing belt skipped, valves bent, customer cried. Had to explain why the fix cost more than the whole car.

Verdict

High-tech, high-maintenance, low reward. Only buy if you’re a glutton for punishment or a masochistic GM historian.

These cars are worth more parted out than running. Most survivors are garage queens nobody dares drive.

If you think four-cylinders are immune, think again…


11. 1995–2002 GM 2.4L “Twin Cam” (Quad 4) – Buzzing, Leaking, and Self-Destructing

GM’s answer to “import performance.” Instead, it’s a masterclass in how not to design a DOHC four.

Evidence

Made a solid 150hp but was harsh, noisy, and loved to shake itself to bits.

Known for blowing head gaskets before 60k. Water pump driven off the timing chain and hidden—when it leaked, it destroyed the chain and dumped coolant in the oil.

Owners constantly fighting vibrations at idle. GM tried balance shafts; all they did was add more points of failure.

Real fix? Buy extra engine mounts and gaskets. You’ll need ‘em.

Shop Story

Guy with a Cavalier wanted it “Lexus smooth.”

I had to break the bad news: “You’d have to swap in the whole Lexus.” This engine vibrated like a washing machine full of bricks.

Verdict

Twin cams, twice the pain. If you wanted to learn engine rebuilding, this was a good school—because you’d be doing it every 60k.

Buy only if you hate your mechanic or love replacing gaskets.

You think Chevy V8s are safe? Wait until you meet the oil-burner…


10. 2007–2014 Chevrolet Vortec 5300 V8 (with AFM) – Oil Burner Blues

Ah, the Vortec 5.3 with AFM—an engine that looked bulletproof until the day it burned all its oil and coughed out its lifters.

Evidence

Found in Silverados, Tahoes, Yukons, and more from ‘07 to ‘14. Estimated over three million produced.

Prone to burning a quart of oil every 1,000 miles due to faulty piston rings and poor PCV system design.

AFM lifter failures—a ticking sound that means $2,000+ repair. Left unchecked, it’ll grenade the cam.

Class-action lawsuit cost GM over $100 million. Service bulletins didn’t solve the core issues.

Shop Story

I’ve done AFM delete kits on so many trucks, I could do them blindfolded.

Saw an ‘09 Silverado at 90k using three quarts between oil changes—owner thought it was a leak.

Nope: just another “eco” system that burns more money than fuel.

Verdict

LS engines are legends, but this one’s the black sheep. If you’re buying used, look for deleted or rebuilt examples.

Ignore the ticking at your peril. If you love adding oil every gas fill-up, congrats—you found your match.

Modern V6? Don’t trust GM’s “High Feature” badge…


9. 2007–2010 GM 3.6L “High Feature” V6 (LY7) – Timing Chain Terror

On paper, this 24-valve DOHC V6 should’ve been a win. In reality, it’s a time bomb for your bank account.

Evidence

Used across Cadillac CTS, Chevy Traverse, Buick Enclave, Saturn Outlook, and more. Millions built. If you drive a big GM crossover from this era, check your oil and pray.

Early LY7s are infamous for timing chain stretch and failure—often before 80k. Once stretched, the chains can jump a tooth, trashing the top end.

Not one, but three chains, plus guides, tensioners, and cam phasers. A full timing chain job: $2,500–$4,500 at the dealer.

GM tried blaming “oil change neglect” for years, but chains failed even with 3k-mile oil changes and full synthetic.

PCV system failures led to oil consumption, increased emissions, and further accelerated timing wear.

Forums littered with horror stories: “Dealer replaced my engine under warranty twice before I sold the car for pennies.”

Over 1,800 NHTSA complaints on timing chains for these engines.

Shop Story

Had a ‘09 Enclave towed in, misfiring, engine codes everywhere.

The timing chains were stretched, phasers out of sync, and one chain had already begun to chew the cover.

Quoted $3,600—owner sold the car to a recycler and Ubered home.

Verdict

Nice when new, absolute wallet-vacuum when the odometer rolls past 80k. The LY7 is fast and smooth, but you’ll be on edge every time you hear a cold-start rattle.

These engines are a used car dealer’s nightmare—and a mechanic’s rent payment. Want one? Budget for a timing set and a rental car.

If there’s no proof the chains were done, run. It’s GM’s high-tech Hail Mary that missed the end zone by a mile.

Think the next Ecotec is any better? Get ready for disappointment…


8. 2010–2017 GM 2.4L Ecotec – Oil-Guzzling Time Bomb

The “eco” in Ecotec must stand for “economical for the shop.”

Evidence

Found in Equinox, Terrain, Malibu, Regal—over 1.2 million on US roads.

The piston ring design burns oil fast after 50k. By 80k, most engines are running on one quart between changes. GM’s own TSB: “Some oil consumption is normal.” Tell that to the blown engines.

Timing chain rattle? That’s your wallet crying—$2,200 for chain, tensioner, and guides.

Out-of-pocket piston and chain job: $3,500–$4,200. On a vehicle worth $6,000.

Catastrophic converter failures from oil fouling, PCV freeze-ups in winter, and random cam sensor issues add to the misery.

NHTSA reports 2,000+ complaints. Huge class-action settlement in 2023, but only covers some years.

Owner forums: “GM replaced my engine at 58,000. At 104,000, it’s doing it again.”

Shop Story

I had a Terrain that went through two engines by 120k.

Both times, the customer claimed “I check the oil!” but the dipstick always came up dry. Eventually, I just recommended she trade for a RAV4.

Verdict

An engine that’ll eat itself alive and drag your bank account with it.

Great MPG, peppy enough, but nothing matters if you’re topping off a quart a week. If you see a used Ecotec, budget for a rebuild or keep your AAA card handy.

GM’s warranty will patch one, maybe, but after that, you’re on your own. The only thing this engine “saves” is time—because it’ll get you out of your car ownership dreams fast.

Ready for a four-cylinder that could catch fire without warning? The Iron Duke is next...


7. 1977–1993 Pontiac “Iron Duke” 2.5L I4 – Duke of Hazard (Fires)

Low power, low tech, and just occasionally, a rolling bonfire.

Evidence

85–110hp depending on year. Your grandma’s Buick was faster.

Used in S10, Fiero, Phoenix, Celebrity, and a dozen more. Over 4 million built.

Fieros with Iron Dukes were a fire department’s best friend—oil leaks and poor cooling led to over 260 documented fires.

Failure points: fiber timing gears would strip, head cracks, weak cams, rod knocks by 100k.

Good mileage, but only if you didn’t mind the oil puddles or the risk of spontaneous combustion.

Most owners swapped for V6s or just gave up and bought imports.

Shop Story

Saw a Fiero burn to the ground in a grocery store lot—owner said he “just heard a pop, then everything was on fire.”

I’ve scrapped dozens of these, most with more gasket sealer than oil left inside.

Verdict

Unkillable if you kept it cool, but most didn’t.

If you survived 100k, you earned your stripes—and maybe your fireman’s badge.

The Iron Duke taught a generation to carry a spare jug of oil and a fire extinguisher. Reliability is only comforting if you’re not rolling the dice with engine fires every week.

Think diesels were immune to disaster? GM proved they could screw that up, too...


6. 1982–1985 Oldsmobile 4.3L Diesel V6 – Diesel Disaster, The Sequel

When GM said “try, try again,” nobody meant diesel V6s.

Evidence

Only 85hp, 165 lb-ft—slower than a loaded mail truck.

Cut down from the disastrous 5.7L diesel, with the same bolt pattern, same weak head bolts, and the same fate.

Engine rarely made it to 60,000 miles before grenading—cam failure, head gasket, crank walk, injector pump woes.

Virtually no support: good luck finding parts or a mechanic who won’t laugh at you.

Owner quote: “You could drive this engine until it exploded… which was about as far as the next town.”

Shop Story

Worked on exactly one in 30 years. It got towed in with a blown head gasket and left with a 307 Olds swap. Owner said he never wanted to hear a diesel knock again.

Verdict

Diesel done wrong—again. If you still own one, call Jay Leno, he might want it for laughs. Otherwise, this is museum-grade failure.

The V6 diesel was slow, loud, unreliable, and impossible to fix. It’s the only GM engine I’ve seen scrap yards refuse to take for free.

You think you’ve seen the worst? Vega is up next—an engine that actually MELTED.


5. 1971–1977 Chevrolet Vega 140cid/2.3L I4 – The Melting Motor

Aluminum block, no cylinder liners—what could go wrong?

Evidence

Blocks wore out in 30–50k, piston slap, clouds of blue smoke, overheating every summer.

No iron sleeves meant overheating permanently warped the block.

Warranty claims bankrupted Chevy—over half the early cars got factory short-blocks by 50,000 miles.

MotorTrend, Hemmings, and nearly every car forum call the Vega engine “the worst American motor ever built.”

Collectors today swap in V8s, Toyota fours—anything but the original 2.3.

Forums: “If you find a Vega still running the factory engine, check the VIN. It’s probably swapped.”

Shop Story

Had a Vega come in using more oil than gas. Owner was topping up every week just to keep it from knocking.

After the third head gasket, we gave up and put in a Buick V6.

Verdict

The Vega 2.3 is legendary in all the wrong ways. No engine has melted down more reliably.

If you want a classic, budget for a swap—or just buy the shell. You’ll spend less time and money, and you might actually drive it without leaving a smokescreen behind.

Cylinder deactivation is up next—GM’s futuristic flop from the ‘80s...


4. 1981 Cadillac 6.0L V8-6-4 (L62) – Technology Ahead of Its Time (Not in a Good Way)

Before GM’s “displacement on demand,” there was the V8-6-4—and it failed big.

Evidence

140hp from six liters. Computer-controlled cylinder deactivation, but 1981 electronics weren’t up to the task.

System randomly cut cylinders at the worst times. Bucking, surging, stalling, terrible mileage.

90% of owners had the system disabled at the dealer—most V8-6-4s ended up running on all 8, all the time.

Real-world MPG? No better than a 472 from the 1970s.

Average repair bill: $1,200+ to replace solenoids, computers, and hope it works for another month.

Forums: “Only thing high-tech was how quickly it emptied your wallet.”

Shop Story

Had a DeVille in the shop that wouldn’t get out of “4-cylinder mode.” Customer thought the trans was fried.

Nope—just the computer tripping over itself. Disconnected the system, it ran fine. Mileage? Still awful.

Verdict

The V8-6-4 was a noble idea decades ahead of its time. Problem is, GM tried it with 1981 tech.

What you get is the world’s worst modern V8—underpowered, unreliable, and universally hated.

Don’t buy one unless you want to explain every week why your “V8” sounds like a sick lawn mower.

Caddy double dips with the HT4100—maybe the most hated V8 ever built...


3. 1982–1987 Cadillac HT4100 4.1L V8 – High Technology, Low Durability

“HT” stood for “Hook and Tow.”

Evidence

Early attempts at aluminum blocks with iron heads—what could go wrong? Head bolts stripped, head gaskets blew, and oil pumps failed by 80k.

135hp and less torque than most V6s—Cadillac performance, 1980s style.

Overheating, random failures, block warpage, seized lifters. Most cars were scrapped or swapped for Olds 307s or Chevy 350s.

Real repair: swap the engine. You could fix it, but only if you liked losing money.

Shops refused to even try—“Come back with a real engine.”

Shop Story

Customer brought in an Eldorado with every warning light flashing.

Head bolts pulled from the block, coolant in the oil, and zero compression on three cylinders. He left with a quote for an engine swap and a look of defeat.

Verdict

Notorious for a reason. If you want to spend your retirement fund fixing a V8 that should have been a V6, be my guest.

These engines have no redeeming qualities—just pain and regret. It’s the only V8 I’ll tell customers to run from before I even open the hood.

The Northstar V8—looks great on paper, blows up in your driveway...


2. 1993–2011 Cadillac Northstar V8 – Head Gaskets from Hell

The engineering marvel that made mechanics rich.

Evidence

Head bolts stretch and pull out, head gaskets blow, coolant dumps in the oil, and you’re done. $4,000+ repair, more than most Northstar cars are worth.

Almost every Northstar over 120k has blown at least one gasket. Most were junked when the big job came due.

Overheating, crank sensor failures, random electronic gremlins, expensive starter buried in the intake.

Forums are filled with DIYs to “Timesert” the block (special steel inserts for the head bolts). Even then, odds aren’t great.

“Bring a tow truck” signs, jokes, memes—it’s the punchline of Cadillac forums.

Shop Story

Had a customer with a Seville STS—pristine, low miles, “just needs a head gasket.” Quoted $3,500.

He sold it to me for $400 and said, “I’m done.” I sold it for parts.

Verdict

Northstars are like Russian Roulette. Great while they run, but every day is closer to the end.

If you love gambling, buy one. For everyone else, enjoy the styling, and walk away.

You’ll never see one past 150k unless it’s had a $5k engine job.

And now, the #1 GM disaster—the engine that ended diesel passenger cars in America...


1. 1978–1985 Oldsmobile 5.7L Diesel V8 – The King of Catastrophes

GM’s rolling lawsuit, the engine that destroyed a market.

Evidence

Gas engine block converted to diesel—wrong metallurgy, weak head bolts, poor fuel system. Head gaskets blew, blocks cracked, rods let go.

120hp, 220 lb-ft. Couldn’t outrun its own smoke.

Class-action lawsuits, buybacks, destroyed owner trust and nearly killed diesel cars in the US for decades.

NHTSA: tens of thousands of complaints, millions in warranty costs, hundreds of thousands of engines replaced under recall.

Owner forums: “I’d rather walk than drive another 5.7 diesel.”

Jokes about the engine so common, even Olds engineers started telling them by the late ‘80s.

Shop Story

I fixed more blown diesel heads than I want to remember. Once saw a Cutlass with its fifth engine.

Owner said, “I figured it had to be good by now.” He was wrong.

Verdict

There’s bad. There’s legendary bad. Then there’s the 5.7 diesel—a rolling reminder that sometimes, the bean counters should not run engineering.

If you owned one, you deserve a medal and maybe a therapist. This is, without a doubt, the worst GM engine of all time. Avoid at all costs.


Final Word

If you made it through this list and didn’t cringe remembering your own nightmares, you’re lucky—or just not a GM owner.

Some of these engines are legends for all the wrong reasons. If you survived one, congrats.

If you’re shopping for a classic, learn these names and run.

And if you want to know which Chevy engines actually won’t ruin your life? Stick around.

I’ve got the good lists coming, too. Until then—keep the oil topped off, the coolant fresh, and your expectations low.

See you in the shop.

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