Detroit Love, Swedish StyleLinus Sundahl-Djerf for The New York TimesVASTERAS, SWEDEN — It was the evening of July 3, and a phalanx of American steel was arriving in this town an hour or so northwest of Stockholm.
Pontiacs, Fords, Plymouths, Cadillacs, Chevrolets — pretty much every brand of car ever manufactured on American soil — bumper to bumper into the fading daylight. Most were pristine, with immaculate chrome and gleaming paint, but some were custom hot rods in candy colors, and a few were wrecks that looked as if they had just been pulled from the ocean floor.
All were headed to the Power Big Meet 2014, which the organizers say is the world’s largest classic-car gathering. This was the 30th anniversary of the meet in its current incarnation — first held in 1978 and moved here in 1984 — and as many as 15,000 vehicles were expected to fill the festival grounds. Disciples of Detroit engineering had driven from all over Europe to gawk at one another’s cars.
It is hard to overstate how much the Swedes love old American cars. Swedish enthusiasts will happily boast that there is more classic Detroit iron in Sweden than in the United States. The Swedish fascination for Detroit slipped over into full-blown obsession a long time ago.
Thousands of vintage cars are imported into the country each year, participants here say, in part to satisfy the demand of the Swedish raggare subculture, which is populated by gearheads who have combined the fashion sensibilities of John Travolta in “Grease” with the drinking habits of a Lynyrd Skynyrd concertgoer. A scan of the crowd confirms that the raggare is as ingrained in the Swedish soul as Ikea and Abba.
“Kjell, how the hell are you going to fit that thing in there?” Oskar Antonson shouted to Kjell (Shell) Svenningsson, a friend who was trying with various degrees of violence to fit a Volvo generator under the hood of his 1957 Pontiac Bonneville. The car had ground to a halt in the muddy roads of a campground.
Power Big Meet has two official campgrounds. One has pristine lawns, showers, toilets and most important, no tendency to transform into an ocean of mud at the slightest drizzle; the other, the much more popular Swine Camp, is no doubt named for the grooming standards of the people who choose to stay there.
“You need a longer bolt, Kjell,” Mr. Antonson said. “And washers.”
Ignoring the advice, Mr. Svenningsson grabbed a hacksaw and amputated an egg-size chunk of steel from the generator. He shoved the modified piece into place and cranked the starter. The generator rattled, but obeyed. Kjell slammed the hood. “The car lives in Europe now, so she better get used to European parts,” he said.
The campgrounds neatly illustrate the two cultures of the Swedish Am-car scene. The nice camp has shiny, beautifully restored cars. Swine Camp, on the other hand, is the domain of a very Swedish subspecies of the American automobile: the pilsner car.
That is a car that looks as if it has suffered decades of cruel abuse. It is rusted out, covered with stickers and grime, its roof, trunk and hood beaten and dented almost beyond recognition. And if it is an authentic pilsner, the back end scrapes the ground because the frame has been broken over the rear axle.
However, it is in the guts of a pilsner car where things get really strange. Under the hood, a true pilsner will have a new or renovated engine, preferably something powerful like a 351-cubic-inch Ford V8. The axles have fresh brakes, the rust is rarely more than skin-deep, and the broken frame may even be welded solid in its mangled state.
The pilsner is a muscle car disguised as a beater.
“It’s about being able to not give a damn,” said Henrik Hjalmarsson, sitting on the hood of his Chevy. Mr. Hjalmarsson owns a particularly defeated-looking pilsner, a 1968 Impala with a 1967 front end and a suitably broken frame. The car was loaded with stickers, many of them Confederate flags. The raggare culture has a deep fascination with the American South.
“I can spill as much beer and put out as many cigarettes on the seats as I want,” he said. “But if you look underneath, the car is like new.”
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