Ford hired piano- and motorcycle-builder Yamaha to turn the unexciting Vulcan V6 into a performance engine, and the result was a 7,000-rpm redline, 220 horsepower, and one of the coolest-looking intake manifolds in automotive history.
First-gen Taurus SHO buyers had just one transmission choice: a five-speed manual. This hurt sales (Ford had seen the writing on the wall and stopped selling the regular Taurus with a manual after the 1988 model year) but made this car a tire-torturing beast. By 1993, the Taurus SHO could be had with two pedals. By 1996, every Taurus sold in North America was slushbox-only.
The plastic cladding and embossed SHO badges come right from the early-1990s-sporty-car playbook.
This car got a rattlecan paint job by one of its later owners, ensuring that its next mechanical failure costing more than a C-note to fix would be a death sentence.
Ford hadn't quite made the switch to six-digit odometers in 1990, so we don't know the real mileage total for this car. I'm guessing that it's 155,648.
With this trashed interior, a restoration wouldn't have made much sense. Someone could have made a fun track-day car out of this one, even with the transmission's tendency to fail on a road course.
Made in Atlanta.