Competitors remold lemons and a modest budget into a distinctive test of endurance in the realm of racing cars.
Rewritten Article:
Updated on May 5, 2025 at 8:08 AM CDT
Race cars thunder into quaint downtown Camden, S.C., like a vintage carnival parade. Streets are cordoned off for a boisterous welcome party, where a rock band serenades the crowd with a bit o' twang by belting out "East Bound and Down."
The hubbub on a recent weekend entices families out of eateries. Onlookers whistle and holler as engines roar and exhausts pop. Kiddos dart up and down the autos parked on the street.
The race cars sport some peculiar designs, such as a Honda Civic sporting a lawnmower, squirrels, and flamingos atop its roof. A cream-colored Toyota Yaris boasts googly eyes, echoing SpongeBob SquarePants' beloved pet snail, Gary Wilson, Jr.
An aging Volkswagen Beetle sports black and yellow paint. Its team (and their offspring) went full bee-chic for the occasion.
They're all here for the local iteration of 24 Hours of Lemons, an endurance race with a quirky twist: The vehicles' costs can't top $500. The series prides itself on being "racing for the common folk." Team costumes are positively encouraged.
Masters of Mayhem and Madness
In the heart of the celebration, race marshals in black robes group cars into competition classes. "A" is for the robust and reliable. "C" is for the charming underdogs. "B" wraps up the middle.
Marshal Eric Rood shares that it's quite the chat session with the teams - many of them request to join the lesser classes for easy competition.
"It's a tad negotiation," Rood quips, pointing to a portable bar teeming with beverages.
The 'blatant bribes' primarily consist of beer, trinkets, and grub. One crew plies Rood with jalapeno hot dogs (they brought a grill, too). When Rood approves a car, the assailant sprays "Bribed" on its hood with spray paint.
Considering a 1987 Camaro's Budweiser-esque "Baddriver" livery, Rood presses down on a front fender.
"Aw, soft as a kitten," he muses, as the car's frame continues bouncing. "I like what I see there."
Safety First, Costumes Second
The 24 Hours of Lemons races have been in full swing for over 15 years in California, with 23 races annually, from seaboard to seaboard. These contests provide modestly-sized prize money, which is often declined by teams who prefer to donate their earnings to charity.
This event is a cousin to France's legendary 24 Hours of Le Mans endurance race, and this weekend's race in South Carolina clocks in shorter, wrapping up over two days.
According to race regulations, vehicles must be scrimshawed below $500 - excluding safety features. All cars are equipped with a roll cage and fire suppression system. And just like in grand-prix racing, drivers are protected by head and neck restraints.
If drivers overstep the mark or race recklessly, they are hauled before the judges and given a stern talking-to before being banished to a penalty box for a brief cool-down.
Driver Vince Deno, tucked into his pink-wrapped Mazda Miata nicknamed "Sparkle Rosa," stumbled during a yellow-flag caution. The marshals sent him to sit atop his car while it paraded slowly through the paddock area, megaphone in hand to apologize to the other teams.
A Spectacle Worth Watching
On a bright Saturday at Carolina Motorsports Park, automobiles zoom around the circuit at high speeds. Initially, it seems slightly peculiar given the non-performance-boosting modifications adorning the vehicles.
Matthew Ramirez hangs by the fence with his tiny sidekick, a Gary the snail devotee. Ramirez lives nearby in Lancaster, S.C.; he attended to watch a friend race. The racetrack is about an hour from the legendary Darlington Raceway, a NASCAR venue, but Ramirez isn't a NASCAR fan.
"I reckon this is the cat's pajamas, though. I like this a whole lot," Ramirez says. "I'm smitten by the endurance aspect of running your jalopy as long and fast as possible. I fancy the notion."
Jen Keenan, a racer from Arizona, usually competes in a Subaru Brat. However, for this race, she decided to judge rather than race. When asked what she likes about the event, she says it's the camaraderie.
"I believe racing overall would be intimidating for a woman, and also newcomers," she says. "But at a 24 Hours of Lemons race, everyone is so inviting and willing to lend a helping hand."
Fightin' for the Finish Line
This racetrack stretches over 2 miles. Built over an old airport, it offers a mix of straightaways and sharp turns where some drivers lose control.
However, the most challenging aspects are mechanical.
"Apparently, I boiled the brake fluid," Shellie McKee shares with me, explaining how when she removed her car from the circuit for a penalty lap, excessive heat developed in the air-cooled brakes while her automobile idled. The next time she attempted to stop, the brake pedal sank to her car's floorboard.
She and her husband, Justin, joined a Charleston, S.C., team to race in a 1978 Datsun B210. Early Saturday, it required a generous fuel pump replacement. During the afternoon, it required a brand new radiator and fan after rear-ending another vehicle.
"A good chunk of our team is at the parts store at the moment, securing everything we need, while we're here bleeding brakes to salvage this one," McKee says.
Maintaining a lemon car on the road isn't a walk in the park. After day one, some crews labor late into the night, trading tools and offering assistance. One team had to trek the track to find their only set of brake pads - which had flown off along with their auto's front wheel. Another group took on the challenge of replacing their engine for the first time, a task that dragged on for hours past midnight.
By Sunday afternoon, around 50 of the 80 registered vehicles are still in the running, by Rood's tally. And that's the objective for these teams: diligently racing until they see the checkered flag.
"We're not vying for anything," McKee says when I catch up with her team. "We're trying to beat the odds and keep the car out there, and that's about it."
Finally, after more than 13 hours of racing, the checkered flag drops. Spectators, teams, and judges line the finish line, applauding every vehicle as it passes.
The McKees' Datsun failed to reach the finish line. But they did win a tongue-in-cheek award - for having the worst brakes. It's called "Can't Stop, Won't Stop."
When it comes to a race that cheers on those who defy the odds, that moniker fits like a glove.
Copyright 2025 NPR
Race cars, with their peculiar designs, roar through the streets of Camden, S.C., as part of the local 24 Hours of Lemons race. This auto-racing event welcomes teams with budgets capped at $500, positioning itself as "racing for the common folk."
The competition is a spectacle worth watching, as even the most humble vehicles manage to reach high speeds during the endurance race, which stretches over 2 miles. Amidst the excitement, some teams face mechanical challenges, requiring grueling repairs late into the night to keep their racecars in the competition.


