2026 Bull Market List: 11 Sweet Buys for the Year Ahead

Welcome back to the Hagerty Bull Market List, our annual deep dive into the collector vehicles most poised to increase in value in the year to come. The 2026 edition marks the ninth installment of our expert insights.

Click to read past Bull Market Lists from 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023, 2024, and 2025.

If the 2020s have taught us anything so far, it’s that life is unpredictable. The first half of the decade was consumed by a pandemic, wars in Europe and the Middle East, trade disruptions, and political unrest; the end may be determined by the emergence of generative artificial intelligence. Or not. Anyone who says they know what the future will bring amid such instability and rapid change is trying to fool you and perhaps themselves.

But here we are again, sticking our collective necks out to predict which cars are most likely to go up in value. What the heck is wrong with us?

A better question might be: What makes classic cars different? Why do their values tend to rise even in times of uncertainty? The bottom-line answer is simple: Cars are fun. They deliver inherent joy, and those who collect them, unlike those who swap other so-called assets, are driven primarily by thrills, rather than financial tea leaves.

Yet our Bull Market List, now entering its ninth year, reflects the fact that the sanctuary of car collecting is not immune to disruption. Gen Xers, millennials, and now Gen Zers are pouring into the market. Online platforms such as Hagerty Marketplace continue to make it easier to buy and sell and, more broadly, are expanding collectors’ horizons beyond just what’s for sale in their neighborhood (this year’s list features a car that originally wasn’t offered in the Western Hemisphere). Meanwhile, rising costs for labor, felt everywhere, are acutely impacting whether and at what cost an old car can be restored.

These and many other factors influenced our list this year and should at least be at the back of your mind as you shop. That’s not to say money should ever be the primary driver of what you collect—we’re all in it for fun, not profit. But if you can leaven the passion with some awareness of what makes prices go up and down (along with some old-fashioned common sense), chances are you’ll be able to buy what you love and then, sometime in the future, sell it for at least what you spent. And you’ll be all the happier for the experience. Indeed, in a world where almost nothing is predictable, one of the few things we can count on is the joy that comes from owning a great old car.

The 2026 Bulls

1968–1970 Dodge Charger

Value Range: (1) $121,350 (2) $91,450 (3) $61,250 (4) $45,500

Since its introduction in 1966, the Dodge Charger has rolled off assembly lines in many forms, with many powertrains, over the course of eight generations. Dodge dealers have drawn up paperwork for everything from radical performance models homologated for stock car racing to humble front-wheel-drive subcompacts, but the second-generation Charger (1968–70) is the undisputed pop culture heavyweight of the bunch. It’s also arguably the world’s most famous muscle car. With dipping values for #3 condition (good) Chargers in recent years, it’s a solid buy right now for those seeking a slice of all-American muscle.

Doing away with the original Charger’s vestigial tail fins and grand touring airs, the second-generation’s Coke-bottle body helped define an aggressive demeanor that made the Charger perfect for its role as the automotive antagonist in the 1968 film Bullitt. In addition to tearing through the streets of San Francisco, the Charger also ripped successfully around NASCAR’s oval tracks thanks to some inspired aerodynamic add-ons, including for a title-winning 1970 Grand National Series season with Bobby Isaac behind the wheel. Talk about pedigree—no wonder the Charger 500 and Charger Daytona editions that supported those victories are now highly collectible.

Sunday wins bolstered Monday sales, with Chrysler moving 230,000-plus Chargers over only three model years; in the first year alone, sales were triple the company’s internal projections. At least half of the total production run was ordered with the 318- or 383-cubic-inch V-8 engines, fine for cruising around town but not quite stock-car-spec. If style is your priority, these provide the cheapest entry point.

Roughly 40,000 Chargers were built in high-performance R/T specification, which could be optioned with the meanest engine available: the 425-hp, 426-cubic-inch Hemi V-8. The example in these pages is a 1969 Charger R/T with the R/T’s standard (and certainly not slouchy) 440-cubic-inch Magnum V-8, which was good for 375 horsepower when new.

Of course, Charger enthusiasm isn’t constrained to any one age group (52% of owners in our database are Gen X or younger). Whether you grew up rewinding the Bullitt chase sequence, hearing the Dukes of Hazzard’s horn, or watching the Toretto family’s indomitable supercharged example in the Fast & Furious franchise, you’ve probably got a soft spot for the Charger’s shape and sound. It oozes pure attitude, and it’s torquey and fast in a straight line, even if it wallows a bit through corners, in typical fashion for the period. The Charger is perhaps the prime example of why classic American muscle cars endure—baby boomers still love ’em, but so too do their kids.

After barely convincing her father that it was safe enough for a teenager, Sherri Erwin bought our photo car upon her high school graduation in 1976 and is still smitten with it after 50 years and five paint jobs. She dated her husband while both were driving ’69 Chargers, and she later taught each of their three daughters how to drive in her bright yellow “Sherri Bomb.” This is a car that even a mother can love—way back in 1976, Sherri’s own mom even helped haggle with the salesman!

The unique pleasures come when you’re walking up to it, swing the huge door shut, and think, “I’m in a 1969 Dodge Charger R/T, baby,” without a hint of self-consciousness. They come when you catch a reflected glimpse of yourself beaming like an idiot with one hand on the wheel, and they don’t stop after you’ve tucked it into the garage, because half the fun of owning a Charger is owning a Charger. We think the feeling’s timeless, and really, there’s no bad time to try it. Now is as good as any. –Alex Sobran

1999–2005 Mazda MX-5 Miata

Value Range: (1) $26,800 (2) $16,600 (3) $9400 (4) $3850

Our Bull Market selection team rarely asks for do-overs, but in hindsight, we should have at some point included the 1990–1997 Mazda Miata. The sweet, free-revving featherweight soared in value between 2016 and 2021.

We can make amends by giving proper due to its underappreciated successor. We’re talking about the second-generation Miata—NB in Mazda-speak. It benefits from all the incremental changes made over the course of the NA and then some, and it still costs less—for now. The 1.8-liter engine gained a freer-breathing cylinder head good for 12 more horsepower. The bodywork and interior were both new, though unmistakably kin to the original: fixed headlights and curvier contours, a steering wheel with three spokes instead of four, and cupholders (hidden inside the center console, presumably so no one could accuse Mazda of going soft).

The story of incremental improvement continues within the NB range, which aficionados divide into two subsets: the 1999–2000, or “NB1,” cars, and the 2001–05, or “NB2,” cars. The NB2 gained two more horsepower, projector-beam headlights that sat in a unique front bumper, standard 15-inch (rather than 14-inch) wheels, an optional six-speed transmission, and variable valve timing. There was also, for the final years of NB-production, the only turbocharged variant ever produced by the factory—the Mazdaspeed Miata. It’s technically not part of our consideration here, but it is a tasty treat nonetheless.

One of the biggest reasons to consider an NB over an NA, beyond all those details, is simply that they’re newer. Ten to 15 years is an awfully long time for a car that gets modified, raced, and generally trashed as commonly as a Miata does. The 2001 example pictured here in brilliant British Racing Green is a prime example. Staffers who have owned beaten, battered first-gen cars (there are more than a few of us) were consistently amazed by how nice a Miata can look and feel.

Of course, this roadster is really all about the driving experience, and an NB delivers on this front. Slip behind the wide-diameter steering wheel, a button-free, all-black Nardi whose rim feels slim compared to that of today’s chunky, control-filled wheels, and you’re instantly at home (so long, that is, as you’re not too tall). The clutch is light and engagement is high, while the shifter’s action is heavy, mechanical, and precise. When rev-matching with the perfectly spaced pedals, don’t be shy; the 1.8 makes its power up high, and its zingy personality means revs fall nearly as fast as they rise. The exhaust note is free of drone or gargle, a smooth alto with a hint of snarl. The ride is pliable by modern sports car standards, but it’s more forgiving on back roads, a pleasant reminder that proper sports cars don’t feel like off-duty race cars. All this in a car that starts every time, whose top is a cinch to raise and lower, and about whose electrical systems there are no running jokes.

The Miata, the bestselling two-seat sports car of all time, was once thought to be too common to be collectible. But the number of nice examples has dwindled (it’s also the most-raced car of all time). No matter the supply, demand is consistently higher—few cars appeal to as broad a demographic. Some enthusiasts will forever prefer the first-generation car. It is the original, after all, and those flip-up headlamps do have a certain charm. But there’s no “settling” for an NB, which is in many respects a superior car. No wonder its values are catching up with those of its predecessor. –Grace Jarvis

1956–1957 Continental Mark II

Value Range: (1) $132,000 (2) $82,700 (3) $40,400 (4) $21,700

The first thing to know about the Continental Mark II is that it is not a Lincoln. Although other Continentals (including the first one, which was introduced in 1939) wear the Lincoln badge, the vehicle you see here was produced by the short-lived Continental Division. Established in July 1952, Continental served as Ford’s premier luxury division, separate and above Ford and Lincoln-Mercury.

Heading up the new Continental Division was William Clay “Bill” Ford, Edsel’s youngest son. Only 27 years old, Bill had inherited his father’s flair for design and was eager to make his mark, if you will, with this new Continental. One of the first employees he hired was John Reinhart, who had led Packard styling from 1947 to 1951. As chief stylist, Reinhart was ideally suited to bringing to life the “modern formal” design Bill Ford and his team envisioned, a design that featured a long hood, a short roof over an intimate passenger cabin, and a low profile—at 56 inches, a full 5 inches lower than a 1955 Ford Fairlane.

The resulting car’s lines were uncluttered, and the use of chrome was tastefully restrained (at least by mid-1950s standards). The details were exquisite. The hood ornament, a four-pointed “Continental Star,” was machined by a gunsight manufacturer, because die-casting wasn’t precise enough to consistently reproduce the sharp edges. The ornament cost a lofty $150, roughly the same price as an entire Ford grille. The needles of the gauges—which included, unusually for a luxury car, a tachometer—were inspired by the hands of Cartier watches. Richly dyed leather from Scotland’s legendary Bridge of Weir tannery lined the interior.

With a price of $10,000 (today about $120,000, adjusted for inflation), the Mark II was the most expensive American car of the time when it went on sale in October 1955. Famous owners included Frank Sinatra, Elizabeth Taylor, and Elvis Presley. Even with the lofty price, Continental still reputedly lost more than $1000 on every car it sold. Although sales were initially promising, by the second model year of 1957, time had run out. Ford Motor Company’s initial public offering loomed on the horizon, and company leadership didn’t want a money-losing division on the books when they were opened to public scrutiny for the first time in the automaker’s history. By November 1956, the Continental Division ceased to exist. It had sold 2550 Mark IIs for 1956 and a mere 444 for 1957.

The gorgeous Mark II featured on these pages is one of those rare ’57s, owned by John Graham and his husband, Geddings Arthur, of Atlanta. “I was 10 years old in 1956 when I saw a Mark II for the first time,” recalled Arthur. “I’ve wanted one ever since.”

Behind the wheel, the car feels stately and elegant, in keeping with its formal demeanor. The 368-cubic-inch V-8, good for 300 horsepower, is sufficient to keep the nearly 5000 pounds of leather, steel, and chrome moving with modern traffic. There’s some uncertainty as to the future values of many 1950s classics, as the collectors who came of age with them gradually leave the hobby. Yet for the best of the best, there will always be a strong market.

Despite the Mark II’s luxuriousness, style, and rarity—only some 1500 are thought to still be on the road—it can be a bit of a bargain. The Hagerty Price Guide values one in #3 good condition at $40,400. For that money, few cars will make a bolder statement. “Whenever we go out to dinner, the restaurants always let us park right in front!” noted Graham. –Kirk Seaman

1990–1993 Chevrolet 454 SS

Value Range: (1) $88,600 (2) $59,800 (3) $32,900 (4) $12,600

The boxy Chevy pickups of the 1990s were so ubiquitous for so long that it’s easy to regard them—or maybe disregard them—with a kind of instant recognition. The moment I opened the door on this 1990 Chevy C1500, I was transported back to riding shotgun in my dad’s work truck, nervously picking at the window switches on my way to basketball practice. Sliding behind the wheel, I mentally skipped a few years to an empty dirt road, learning to drive in my grandfather’s 1500. The red velour, the chunky plastic switchgear. It all felt so familiar.

Then, I turned the key and a bomb went off.

As I drove through the paddock, hearing the loping idle bounce off the garages, I suspected this was not the truck I remembered from my childhood. Turning onto the country road confirmed it. My foot grew heavy as the limitless torque from the 7.4-liter big-block V-8 lurched the truck forward. As the revs built and the 454 held on to first gear, I felt the truck trying to outrun the deafening roar. I let my foot off the gas. A couple pops, and I could hear the wind for the first time. But I needed more. I pulled again and again, carpet-bombing the rolling hills of northern Georgia. The sound was so sweet and so, so loud. This can’t be stock.

While new muscle trucks are overengineered to drive triple-digits on any surface, in 1990, Chevy took an old-fashioned approach: stuffing the biggest engine available into the lightest layout. Maybe that’s why the 454 SS feels more like a classic muscle car than a predecessor to the Raptor. The tried-and-true Mark IV big-block borrowed from Chevy’s 3500 work trucks, accompanied by a heavy-duty radiator and separate coolers for the engine oil and transmission fluid, eked out only 230 horsepower but generated 385 lb-ft of torque. Sending power to the rear wheels through a three-speed automatic with a 3.73 final-drive ratio, the 454 SS was good for a 7.7-second 0–60 run. Of the 17,000 454 SS pickups built, 80% were sold in the first year of production. The following year, 1991, a new, Mark V big-block debuted with some major updates that increased output to 255 horsepower and 405 lb-ft. More important, Chevy gave the transmission an additional gear and changed the final drive to 4.10, which dropped the 60-mph sprint to 7.1 seconds—only 1.1 seconds behind the base Corvette at the time.

People who grew up with 454 SS posters on their walls are flocking to them.

The GMT400-generation Chevy truck has become a collector’s item in recent years, and this one is king. It was the first modern muscle truck, and people who grew up with 454 SS posters on their walls are flocking to them. The share of 454 SS owners in their 40s is twice the Hagerty average and growing. The pickup sits at the nexus of several strong collecting niches: sporty trucks, 1990s nostalgia, and anything with a Chevy big-block.

Matt Shumake, the owner of this truck, is one of these collectors. He takes his son to baseball practice in it, helping plant formative memories. Matt drove a 1990 454 SS in high school and always regretted selling it. He bought this truck as an unfinished restoration two years ago and completed the project in his garage with all-new AC Delco parts to keep it factory-correct. However, he did add Hooker headers and glass packs on the exhaust. That explains it. I choose to believe that if Chevy engineers had been given full freedom, this is how they would have wanted the 454 SS to sound. –Adam Wilcox

2006–2013 Chevrolet Corvette Z06

Value Range: (1) $80,400 (2) $55,900 (3) $38,750 (4) $27,950

Searching online marketplaces and auctions because crossed flags have become imprinted on your brain? If there’s another car that is faster and more exhilarating for the price of a new Honda Civic than the 2006–13 Corvette Z06, we’re not aware of it. This all-American chariot hits the sweet spot for performance per dollar among modern sports cars, and its 7.0-liter V-8’s rumble is so powerful, your heart jumps into your throat at every start-up.

The centerpiece of any Corvette is its engine, of course, and Corvette chief engineer Dave Hill and his lieutenant Tadge Juechter reached for the stars, challenging their powertrain colleagues to produce as much power as possible in a naturally aspirated V-8, but without compromising the packaging needed for engine cooling, maintaining roughly 50/50 weight distribution, and keeping the hood low. The resulting hand-built, dry-sump-lubricated, 427-cubic-inch LS7 made 505 horsepower and 470 lb-ft of torque and was cradled in a lightweight aluminum frame that weighed 136 pounds, about a third less than the stock Corvette’s steel unit. The 427 breathed through a Z06-specific cold-air intake in the car’s nose and, according to contemporary road tests, propelled the Vette to 60 mph in about 3.5 seconds—heady stuff 20 years ago and still impressive today.

Fitted with larger brakes and wider tires than a stock C6, the Z06 is a stunning track machine, as we were reminded at Atlanta Motorsports Park. The impressively low curb weight of 3147 pounds is pleasantly evident, and as you row through gears around the raceway with the Z06’s only transmission option, a deliberate six-speed manual, your right foot will often be tempted to push the accelerator to the engine’s 7000-rpm redline just to hear that exhaust note howl. For Corvettes in particular, there really is no replacement for displacement—427-equipped C2s and C3s tend, on average, to be worth 57% more than small-block contemporaries.

In pit lane, the 2006 Corvette Z06 still delivers a thrill long after the engine is switched off. This is a pure American sports car powered by a big V-8 and built for drivers who want to feel something behind the wheel—something a bit feral—and driving one is always unforgettable. A Z06 rewards that courage and remains thrillingly analog in an increasingly digital age. Even two decades later, the Corvette Z06 and its stunning 427 V-8 serve as a reminder that raw power and smart engineering never go out of style. –Todd Kraemer

1969–1972 Alfa Romeo GTV

Value Range: (1) $163,000 (2) $105,000 (3) $48,800 (4) $28,600

So elegant, so chic, and only getting better after nearly 60 years. Absolutely nobody did class for the masses better than Alfa Romeo in the late 1960s, when the company was cranking out designer duds at prices that working people could afford. It’s still the case, with drivable Giulia GTVs trading for under $40,000. A sum that, incidentally, is exactly what the $4500 purchase price of a new 1969 Alfa Giulia 1750 GTV is equivalent to today.

It took Alfa Romeo a few years after the war to sort itself out and come up with a plan for survival. It finally pivoted away from large, hand-built bolides to stamped-out sports sedans in 1950, when that first 1900 would, like BMW’s later Neue Klasse, completely redefine the brand. Successive models with all-aluminum twin-cam zingers proved Alfa was adept at producing smaller four-cylinder cars infused with the spirit of Tazio Nuvolari and the golden age of the Quadrifoglio.

The forward-looking studio of Nuccio Bertone was again tasked with designing the new-for-’63 replacement for the previous two-door Giulietta, and once again Bertone eschewed the midcentury fashions of straight lines and hard edges so prevalent in America and elsewhere. Though its roofline was more upright than that of the previous car, the compact coupe still looks sleek, the tidy exterior a masterwork of simple yet incredibly harmonious surfacing interrupted only by a pair of razor-thin stainless bumpers. The exquisitely subdued Alfa seems an expression of a lost art in our own time of slashing, clashing design frenzy fronted by angry robotic faces (though, to some extent, modern Alfas still hew to that old design ethic).

The Giulia came in various flavors, including the 1300 GT Junior, 1600 Sprint, and 1750 GT Veloce. The earlier—and to some more desirable—“step-nose” versions with their two big headlights and subtle ridge at the leading edge of the hood gave way to the “smooth-nose,” quad-light cars in 1967. Jay Hines, a former Atlanta police officer, bought this 1971 Alfa 1750 with its U.S.-market Spica fuel injection as something to play with while restoring a Fiat 124 Spider. “The Graduate is my favorite movie,” he explained. “It’s got a pretty girl and a red car in it. Check and check.”

Even if his Alfa isn’t the same model as in the movie, it’s red and it’s adorable, the huge gauges and airy cockpit transporting you back to a time when sporty cars were simple, light, and immediate. The very Italian relationship of the closely coupled steering wheel, pedals, and high stick takes some getting used to, but not the smooth, snarly power from the 1779-cc fuel-injected four. That is instantly addictive. One of the best ways to entertain yourself on a Sunday afternoon is pairing a GTV with a twisting back road and absolutely sucking the life out of 50 mph. Crank out the manual wind wings for extra airflow, and it’s almost as if you are indeed in the Spider, chasing the girl, trying to outrun the responsibilities of adulthood.

In its day, an Alfa GTV was a darn good consolation prize for those who didn’t have the coin for a Maserati or Ferrari. Today, it’s a darn good consolation prize for those unwilling to drop the extra 30 grand for a Porsche 912, the values of which have ballooned as part of That Whole Porsche Thing. New, the Alfa was about $500 cheaper than a 912, and really, they should be about the same value today, as they offer similar capabilities and fun quotients. Thus, consider the Alfa GTV a good value for all that it offers. We certainly do. –Aaron Robinson

2006–2010 BMW M5

Value Range: (1) $77,000 (2) $36,000 (3) $22,000 (4) $8500

When Larry Webster drove the new BMW M5 for Car and Driver in 2006, he dubbed its V-10 engine “the mother of all powertrains.” Even with the Porsche Carrera GT for company on this year’s Bull Market List, our editor-in-chief’s declaration endures. BMW’s quad-cam, 40-valve, 90-degree V-10 is a raucous, 8250-rpm festival, pumping out 500 horsepower at a lofty 7750 rpm. Individual throttle bodies and variable valve timing on the intake and exhaust ensure sparkling response and smooth running all the way to redline. At full blast, the odd-firing banshee wails through its quad exhaust, undertones of thunder filling the ears of anyone in its wake. No BMW before or since boasts such a signature sound.

Whereas most high-performance BMW M engines are related to regular-series motors, this 5.0-liter V-10 (codename S85) is a complete one-off. Engineers for this M5—E60, in BMW chassis-code parlance—aimed at 100 horsepower per liter and natural aspiration. They drew inspiration from the company’s involvement in F1, particularly the V-10 it supplied to the Williams team beginning in the 2000 season. The seven-speed SMG (sequential manual gearbox) was the sole transmission at launch. Though BMW did not initially intend to make a manual version, and the car’s chief engineer was against the idea, the North American market campaigned successfully for a six-speed stick-shift. Introduced for the 2007 model year, these three-pedal M5s for the U.S. and Canada are rare and highly coveted by BMW cognoscenti.

The E60 M5 was a sales success, reaching 20,548 units over five years of production. As of this writing, a #3 condition (good) example with the SMG is worth $22,000, but given that BMW only built about 1200 stick-shift versions, and the combination of a clutch pedal and a V-10 in a four-door supersedan is available nowhere else, manuals command a 50% premium according to the Hagerty Price Guide.

Values appear to have bottomed out in January 2025, but there are signs of an imminent upswing, particularly among collectors in their 30s and 40s, who represent 58% of quotes Hagerty issues for insurance policies on the E60, the highest share of all M5s. The U.S. was this M5’s biggest market at about 8800 units, and European buyers are starting to import cars from here—about 10% of the original allocation has gone back across the pond in recent years.

Although the M5 is first and foremost a luxury sedan built for blasts across the autobahn, it’s right at home on a track or country road. Adaptive suspension keeps the car planted, while fierce brakes arrest the 4110-pound Bavarian with ease. The SMG gets a lot of deserved flak in online forums for its clunky shift logic in full automatic mode. The solution is to drive it like the manual transmission it technically is—generously rev out each gear, lifting the throttle a bit before yanking on the right paddle and swapping to the next cog. There’s no replacing the engagement factor that three pedals would give you, but the SMG’s shorter early gears enhance the sensation of acceleration. From a valuation perspective, there’s no getting around the fact that the manuals are worth more, but the more common SMG-equipped models are also smart buys and much easier to find. Either way, you’re getting an involving supersedan for about a third of the price of a new M5.

If you’ve ever owned a high-performance German car, you know that fastidious maintenance is the key to avoiding harrowing repair costs, and such is certainly the case with this technologically complex M5. Rod-bearing failure can be staved off with an aggressive oil change schedule, and spark plugs and filters should all be changed at least according to the factory-recommended cadence. It’s also best to let the V-10 warm up before subjecting it to heavy loads or high revs. Which, we promise, will be very much on the agenda once you’ve had the pleasure. –Eric Weiner

1981–1993 Dodge Ramcharger

Value Range: (1) $38,400 (2) $25,300 (3) $18,400 (4) $7050

If you told me the second-generation Dodge Ramcharger was the muse for The Simpsons writers who penned the jingle for the fictitious Canyonero SUV, I’d believe you. “Can you name the truck with four-wheel drive, smells like a steak and seats 35?” Our 1987 photo truck, provided by Steve Thacker, didn’t smell like rib eye, but it did have part-time four-wheel drive, and the spacious rear bench and cargo area could probably transport 35 people in a pinch. “Twelve yards long, two lanes wide, 65 tons of American Pride!” Maybe an exaggeration, but the Dodge is a good bit wider and longer than a contemporary Ford Bronco.

Mopar usually is ahead of the curve when it comes to defining a new segment: the proto-muscle car, the 1955 Chrysler 300; the pony car, the 1964 Plymouth Barracuda; and the minivan, the 1984 Dodge Caravan. But the Mopar-or-no-car crowd had to wait for 13 long years before Dodge delivered a competitor to the International Scout—the progenitor of the 4×4 SUV. The first-generation Ramcharger launched in 1974 on a shortened version of the D-series truck chassis—more akin to the 1969 Chevrolet K5 Blazer than the original Ford Bronco, which was smaller and not built upon existing truck bones.

Dodge ushered in the Reagan years with a reworked second-generation truck in 1981. Gone were the removable top and the optional big-block V-8s of the earlier models, but the new Ramcharger sported chiseled sheetmetal and a standard V-8—the order sheet let you swap Mopar’s venerable 318-cubic-inch V-8 for its larger-displacement 360. Over the Ramcharger’s 12-year production run, Dodge attempted to keep up with the times—later trucks gained fuel injection, and rear-wheel ABS was available in 1989. But even with the updates, this truck never lost its primal feel.

And therein lies the appeal. Modern trucks are massively capable, but niceties like sound deadening and bumping stereos dampen the driving experience. The Ramcharger, however, never lets you forget you are piloting a street-legal monster truck.

You hop up into the Ramcharger. Upon entry, I immediately felt bigger, like I was a hundred feet tall and ready to roll over any obstacle. It’s probably not any taller than a modern off-roader, but it certainly feels like it. The V-8 grunts and the suspension groans as you amble along. The steering wheel is more of a suggestion wheel, as if you are merely guiding the large ram on the hood rather than controlling it. Tight turns and short stops are not the Ramcharger’s strong suit, but all in all, it’s wild fun to drive. Bouncing along in the Ramcharger at 35 mph is more satisfying than cruising in a modern uber-off-roader at 80.

Apart from blue-chip models like Hemi ’Cudas and Challengers, Mopars are often under the collector-car radar. The market—particularly younger buyers—is catching on to the Ramcharger’s charms, though. Whenever we see a spike in interest from younger clients, a model’s value is generally due to increase. According to our Automotive Intelligence team, the share of Ramcharger owners under 50 is two times the Hagerty average. If you want a monster truck for the street and missed out on the Blazer and Bronco craze, the time to buy a Ramcharger is now. –Chris Stark

1995–1998 Nissan Skyline GT-R

Value Range: (1) $111,900 (2) $82,350 (3) $55,100 (4) $35,150

The first three modern generations of the Nissan Skyline GT-R have, for most of their existence and for most car enthusiasts, been vaporware. Sold in low numbers in Japan and only a few export markets from 1989 to 2002, the all-wheel-drive supercar earned most of its admirers via Fast & Furious, Gran Turismo, YouTube clips, and the like. Even as real examples trickle into the United States, courtesy of the 25-year exemption on importation of foreign-market cars, by and large they have been confined to the ether of high-dollar auctions.

But if you want to have your very own “Godzilla,” there is hope in the version shown here. The second-generation, “R33” in geek-speak, is the overlooked middle child of the GT-R family. Meaningfully quicker and higher tech than the initial batch of all-wheel-drive GT-Rs, built from 1989 to 1994, it is, on average, worth less than half as much as the third-generation cars sold from 1999 to 2002. One in excellent, unmodified condition can be had for just over $80K, per our price guide.

To the uninitiated, that can still seem like a large chunk of change for a 30-year-old car that, from certain angles, looks like a contemporary 240SX stretched to Chevy Monte Carlo proportions. Ah, but look closer. Wide fenders filled to the brim with oversize tires, a massive intercooler visible through the lower front fascia, and an equally unsubtle rear wing speak to the GT-R’s real intentions.

The driving experience is similarly layered: At low speeds, the Skyline is tractable, comfortable, and refined; the 2.6-liter inline-six thrums in the background; the steering and five-speed gearbox are smooth and relatively light to the touch; and, as you would expect from a Japanese car from the ’90s, everything works—during our two-day photoshoot in late-summer Georgia, it spent hours at low speeds, air-conditioning cranked, and never complained. (That said, note that if the go-fast bits need service, your local Nissan dealer won’t have much to offer. You’ll need to find a specialty shop.)

Nail the throttle, and the Nissan dispenses with the pleasantries. There’s a satisfying oomph as the turbos kick in, but the real shock and awe comes when you claw out of corners. The GT-R’s secret sauce is its wildly sophisticated all-wheel-drive system, which relies on an electronically controlled center differential to send torque to the front wheels when needed. On the R33 and later GT-Rs, the system can also send more torque to either rear wheel. The sum is a car that is almost spookily easy to drive fast. On curvy back roads around the racetrack, the GT-R seemed to shrink as speeds climbed. It’s addictive.

The future is bright for GT-Rs. They’re the poster child for a rising generation of collectors whose tastes will likely dictate the values of classic cars for decades to come. Indeed, some 60% of interest in second-generation GT-Rs comes from 30- and 40-somethings. Today it’s a comfortable, fast car that is likely to be the only one of its kind at a local car show. Tomorrow, it may well be a blue-chip classic.

Thanks to online selling platforms, it’s easier than ever to buy a car from overseas. Inspecting it in Japan and then registering it in the United States (or, in the case of a GT-R that is already here, verifying that these steps happened properly) is still best left in the hands of trusted professionals.

Our photo car, owned by James and Leslie McBride of Atlanta, was brought over by the California dealer Toprank, one of the best-known and most prolific importers of Skylines. The McBrides, longtime Nissan Z enthusiasts, purchased it this past summer and immediately drove it home. They discovered firsthand that “even in the middle of nowhere,” the GT-R attracted throngs of knowledgeable fans, overjoyed to meet their hero in person at last. “The best part is the joy that it brings everyone else,” said Leslie. –David Zenlea

1995–1998 Volkswagen Golf GTI VR6

Value Range: (1) $30,100 (2) $20,000 (3) $13,100 (4) $4700

The TV show Portlandia kicked off its first episode, in 2011, with a skit about how “the dream of the ’90s is alive in Portland.” Is that still accurate? Maybe not. But the dream of the ’90s is still alive with the Volkswagen Golf GTI VR6. 

If you’re of a certain age (looking at you, Gen Xers and a handful of elder millennials), you remember these cars vividly. The 1990s were a heyday for Volkswagen in the United States, with a compelling lineup of unconventional-for-America cars (the Corrado, Golf, Jetta, Passat, and Eurovan), ridiculously fun ideas (e.g., multicolored Harlequin Golfs for support vehicles at the 1996 Olympics, special-edition Jettas where you got a roof rack and either a Trek bike or a K2 snowboard), and memorable television ads (remember “Da da da” or the entire “Drivers Wanted” campaign?). But the real gem back then was the hottest hot hatch Americans had ever seen, the GTI VR6.

The third-generation (Mk3) GTI was, like its predecessors, a practical, do-it-all commuter. Yes, you could fit a stinky armchair you found on the curb into the back with the rear seats folded down (as depicted in one of those ads). You could also fit yourself and four of your friends (great way to really get to know folks) to get around town or across campus.

But whereas the first- and second-generation GTIs had four-cylinder engines, the third go-round had a 2.8-liter, 12-valve six-cylinder engine under the hood. The novel VR6 engine design packed the wallop of a V-6 configuration into a more compact, narrow-angle block (the V stands for Verkürzt, which means shortened, and the R stands for Reihenmotor, which means inline engine). The VR6 still put a fair bit of weight over the nose of the car, but with 172 horsepower and a similar amount of torque, who could really complain? It was good for a 6.7-second run from 0 to 60 mph, according to Car and Driver. Remember, this was the mid-1990s—your average Mustang GT couldn’t do much better.

Even today, when a new Toyota Camry is light-years quicker, the guttural growl of the VR6 impresses. Think: the warble of Chewbacca expressing any emotion (they all sound the same; come at me, Star Wars nerds!) but with the mechanical harmonics of Teutonic engineering. Real VW fans will always choose the 12-valve over the later 24-valve variants, because we all know they sound better. (Come at me, 24-valve nerds!)

Of course, the deeper appeal of driving a Mk3 GTI is mentally going back to a simpler time, one free of virtual meetings, doomscrolling, and endless subscriptions for things that should be standard. When you didn’t seem like a weirdo for just driving over to your friend’s place to say “hi” without texting first. The dream of the ’90s. 

Daniel Gould lent us our photo car and has owned it since new. Smart guy. Finding a GTI that has survived decades in cheap-used-car purgatory is no easy feat. That rarity, along with the fact that the children of the 1990s are now nostalgic mid-lifers, helps explain why these cars are cheap no more. You can’t go back in time—not even in Portland—but these VR6-powered hatchbacks are as close as you’ll find to a time machine. –Matt Tuccillo

2004–2007 Porsche Carrera GT

Value Range: (1) $2,000,000 (2) $1,550,000 (3) $1,350,000 (4) $1,000,000

Cars that go whoooop! are special. They used to be everywhere in Formula 1 before the ascendancy of turbos and batteries and energy recovery systems. Nowadays, if you want a car that whoops, unholster your wallet, for they are largely an extinct breed. When cash-strapped Porsche decided to repurpose a sports-prototype racing program into a road car in the early aughts, it created the mother of all whoopers. The price of $448,400 was a stunner in those days, when the air was very thin over $100,000 and million-dollar specials were practically unheard of. Porsche struggled to move them.

Not a problem for Carrera GTs today. Though the car is more than 20 years old, it feels like half of a modern-day Boxster married to half of Ayrton Senna’s 1989 McLaren MP4/5. As auction prices attest, this is a popular pairing. Two things you notice immediately about the Carrera GT after you’ve slid gingerly into the leather one-piece bucket and wrapped your fingers around the two-tone steering wheel: The tach doesn’t go red until 8200 rpm, and the manual shifter sprouting high on the console to be close at hand is topped by an incongruously wooden ball. In the CGT, it looks like a knob cut off of Louis XIV’s bedpost and mounted in the center of a Bang & Olufsen showroom. Even in the early aughts, a manual shifter was slightly retro, and the wooden topper pays tribute to all those round-ball Porsche 917 sticks palmed by wide-eyed drivers screaming down the Mulsanne at 240 mph.

The internet says the Carrera GT’s clutch is tricky, easy to burn, and hideously expensive to replace. It’s not tricky. And even if the 3150-pound car takes delicate feet to move off the line, it’s not really the clutch’s fault. The 605-hp, 5.7-liter short-stroke V-10 under the mesh screens has effectively no flywheel. Which is why it can whoop from idle to 8000 in an instant (60 mph takes 3.5 seconds) but also what makes it easier to stall. If you’re slow with the shifter during gear changes, the revs don’t spool down gradually—it’s like the engine has fallen out of the car.

Matt Kossoff, a serial entrepreneur whose current project is Milton Coffee Co., which makes “the Carrera GT of single-service coffee makers,” has a manual shift pattern tattooed to his left calf and a taste for the simpler hero cars of his 1990s youth. He generously encouraged us to have fun with his Carrera, car No. 50 out of the 1270 made at Porsche’s Leipzig assembly plant, so we did—to a point. More than a few CGTs have experienced rapid unscheduled disassembly because of the car’s lack of a modern stability control system. But its handling is so organic, its grip levels (on fresh Michelins) so lofty, and its braking so capable that we never came close to making it sweat.

Really, the engine is the star of this cabaret. A modern paddle-equipped hypercar could undoubtedly run silicon rings around the CGT, but you’d be having far less analog fun. If they gave out Oscars for well-executed heel-and-toe downshifts, the winners would all be in Carrera GTs, that V-10 in back whoop-whooping as if in applause. This car makes you feel like 1.5 million bucks, coincidentally about the going rate for a nice example. Considering your only modern alternative is one of Gordon Murray’s unobtainable T.50s for about twice the price, the Carrera GT begins to look (sort of, if you squint hard) like a bargain. –Aaron Robinson

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Editor’s Note: As always, the 11 cars that make up the 2026 Bull Market List are those we believe are poised for growth. To arrive at these predictions, the Hagerty Automotive Intelligence team uses some of the most exhaustive data in the industry—price guide research, owner demographics, private sales, public auctions both online and in person, and import/export numbers. Our goal is to help you benefit from up-to-date research in order to make an informed purchase now and a profitable sale later.