Pebble Beach Car Week is the worst. Crowds, traffic, rich old dudes showing off their expensive toys—it’s an altar to fossil fuel-powered excess. Like other sane people, I knew to steer clear of the Monterey Bay for Car Week. Until I read about Concours D’Lemons.
Held at a location affectionately called “the oil stain,” D’Lemons is a celebration of the world’s worst cars. Here, the crappier or weirder, the better.
It’s a porous event, with no official borders. There’s an impromptu garage or surreal show-and-tell around every corner. By 10 am, competitors and spectators alike are drunk. Wise attendees avoid eye contact with the red-cheeked, Guy Fierri-costumed army of car dudes (trust me, it’s a demographic) talking up their garbage.
The most recent D’Lemons, held last August, was the 10th anniversary, explains Alan Galbraith, who’s known as Head Gasket and calls himself the idiot behind the whole thing. “2009 was our first year according to the court records