Around the turn of the last century, Toyota decided to try to entice more young American car shoppers into their showrooms by offering a cute, cheap subcompact based on the big-selling (in Japan) Vitz and closely-related Platz. This effort led, eventually, to the creation of the "youth-oriented" Scion brand and — because young Americans lusted after trucks more with each passing year — didn't result in the hoped-for firehose-like torrent of yen aimed at Toyota's coffers. Starting in the 2000 model year, the Platz two-door became the Echo Coupe over here, and not many were sold. Still, I think these tough little commutemobiles are interesting, and so I documented this '02 when I saw it in a Colorado yard.

As a junkyard aficionado living in Denver, I get regular opportunities to study the history of the Pleiades-badged brand every time I hit the IMPORTS section at one of my local yards. You won't find any Subaru 360s in U-Wrench yards these days (I haven't seen a discarded 360 since the early 1980s), but I still find plenty of Malaise-Era Subarus from the period during which they were mocked for their small size in novelty songs. Here's a seriously loaded (by early-1980s standards) 1982 Subaru Leone four-wheel-drive wagon, found last fall in a yard just south of Denver.

Back in early 2007, when the late Davey G. Johnson got me my first job writing for an automotive publication (well, unless you count writing for the Year One catalogs back in the mid-1990s) and I took on this goofy pen name for real, I didn't quite grasp that any readers might be interested in the stuff I saw during my frequent junkyard trips. So, when I took my crappy Nikon Coolpix 2500 to the now-defunct Pick Your Part in Hayward, California, and saw a super-rare Mazda 323 GTX among all the Tercels and Rabbits in the IMPORTS section, I just took a few shots of this interesting car for my own enjoyment. These days, I'll take more than 100 photographs of a junkyard car of such great historical significance, editing them down to the best couple of dozen, but in March of 2007 I got just three of the 323 GTX. Robert Capa had his Magnificent Eleven at D-Day, and I've got the Magnificent Three of the GTX. Here they are.

I've learned that finding discarded vehicles with astronomical figures showing on their odometers can be very difficult. Most manufacturers stuck with five-digit odometers well into the 1980s and even the 1990s, which rules out a majority of potential high-mile candidates right off the bat. With more recent vehicles, electronic digital odometers won't display unless you power up the main ECU— theoretically possible in a junkyard, but a real hassle. The most likely old cars to rack up interstellar mileage (Mercedes-Benz diesels) are also among the first to have their instrument clusters harvested by boneyard-prowling eBay sellers. Fortunately, Honda began installing six-digit odometers around 1981, and so today's Junkyard Gem (found last winter in a Denver car graveyard) can share its very impressive final odo reading with us.

Back in the early 1990s, American car shoppers could choose from an extravaganza of sporty-looking front-wheel-drive coupes. The Geo Storm GSi may have offered the most performance per dollar, but the early Mazda MX-3 made a lot of sense as a reasonably fun commuter car. The MX-3, based on the 323/Protegé chassis (and thus a close cousin to the Ford Escort of the same era) could be purchased in the United States for the 1992 through 1996 model years, and junkyard examples have become very hard to find. Here's a '92 in a Colorado Springs yard.

If you want a cheap, rock-and-stick-simple, gas-sipping car that can handle mud and snow without flinching, you'd have a tough time surpassing the 1983-1988 Toyota Tercel 4WD wagon. Known as the Sprinter Carib in Japan, these cartoonish-looking little wagons proved quite popular in North America, despite their tippy handling and patience-building double-digit horsepower, and I still find plenty of them in junkyards to this day. Here's a first-model-year example with the luxurious (by early-1980s Tercel standards) SR5 top trim level, found in a Denver yard last winter.

When Honda began making zooted-up Civics with big engines and different bodywork in the late 1980s, selling them as Acura Integras in North America and raking in many dollars, Nissan took note. For the 1990 model year and the launch of the Infiniti brand, the luxed-out version of the Euro-market Nissan Primera sedan got Infiniti G20 badging and went on sale over here. After a two-year hiatus in 1997 and 1998, the all-new G20 made its debut for the 1999 model year, and that's what we've got here: a fully equipped Touring version with 5-speed manual transmission, spotted in a Denver boneyard.

Datsun's Z-Car turned 10 years old in 1980 (in North America), and so Nissan decided to celebrate by selling a small run of limited-edition 280ZXs commemorating that anniversary. 2,500 Black Gold 10th Anniversary cars were made, plus another 500 Black Red cars. I managed to find a discarded Black Gold 280ZX in California, way back in 2009, and I ran across this Black Red 280ZX last fall in Colorado.

When I'm scouring the rows of a big, fast-inventory-turnover vehicle boneyard for fascinating examples of automotive history, I keep strange examples of badge engineering at the top of my shopping list. Subarus with Saab emblems, Isuzus with Acura emblems, Hyundais with Mitsubishi emblems, Austins with Nash emblems, Mazdas with Mercury emblems, all the vehicles that sprang into existence because Carmaker A wanted to fill a vacant slot in the showrooms and Carmaker B proved willing to offer a vehicle that fit that slot. While I have yet to unearth a discarded Suzuki Equator pickup, I've found this truck with a far more convoluted model-name history: a 2006 Mitsubishi Raider in Phoenix.

With all the car graveyards I visit and all the discarded Toyotas I photograph, you'd think that at least a few examples of the legendary AE86 Corolla would have fallen before my camera. I do find these cars, once in a long while, but they're so sought-after that I just find the shells of gutted parts cars, ditched after all the good stuff got extracted (the same thing happens with Subaru WRXs, Mitsubishi Evos, and any two-door Chrysler B-body or GM A-body of the 1964-1973 period). Enthusiasts and collectors love the AE86, here and in Japan, for a combination of cultural reasons we all know well, so I decided I'd document the next one I found in a junkyard, regardless of condition. That turned out to be this '84 notchback coupe in the San Francisco Bay Area.

North American sales of small Japanese pickups got stronger with each passing year of the 1970s, helped along by ridiculous gasoline prices. The Toyota Hilux of that era (which became, simply, the Toyota Truck over here) gets most of the attention now, but the rugged Nissan 620 (known as the Datsun Pickup in North America) sold as well as or better than the Hilux for much of the decade. Here's a '76 Datsun Pickup, retired in Colorado after 44 years of hard work.

The history of the Mitsubishi Galant in North America goes all the way back to the 1971 model year, when Chrysler imported the first-generation Galant and badged it as the Dodge Colt. Later in the 1970s, we got Galant coupes badged as Dodge Challengers and Plymouth Sapporos, and Mitsubishi began selling Galants (now with front-wheel-drive) with the company's own badging starting in the 1985 model year. The sixth-generation Galant arrived here for the 1989 model year, as a stylish and technology-packed competitor to the Taurus, Camry, and Accord, and it made a fair-sized splash in the automotive world. You'd have a tough time finding one of these cars today, but this '89 appeared in a self-service yard in Phoenix a couple of months back and I was there to document it.

Until the 1986 model year, when the North American-market Toyota Celica went to front-wheel drive and the same platform as the T150 Corona, we knew the Celica as an affordable, sporty-looking machine with the same basic R-engine/rear-wheel-drive layout as the sturdy Hilux pickup. In regions that don't suffer much from the teeth of the Rust Monster, some late RWD Celicas have stayed in service long enough to keep showing up at the big self-service car graveyards I explore. Here's an '83 notchback coupe that just barely reached six figures on its odometer, photographed in a San Francisco Bay Area self-serve yard last fall.

Americans started buying new Suzuki cars with the debut of the 1985 Chevrolet Sprint and continued doing so through the era of the Geo/Chevrolet Metro and Tracker. Sales of the Samurai mini-SUV took off during the late 1980s, and the Swift sibling to the Metro became available here starting in 1989. The Suzuki American dream— at least the part involving four-wheeled, highway-legal vehicles— came crashing down in 2012, but the 2000s gave American Suzuki fans some interesting-yet-affordable machinery. We got the Kizashi (the side marker lights of which make great jack-O-lantern eyes) and the Suzuki Works Techno package for the Reno and the Aerio in 2005. I found a Reno SWT in California a few months back and figured that would be the first and last Suzuki Works Techno car I ever saw, but then this Aerio appeared in a Colorado car graveyard not long after that.