One week to go the start of the season and a larger than normal team is on hand for our Thursday session.
Punch, Gerald and I are joined by: Ernie (by kind permission of his wife); John Nobbs; and writer extraordinaire, the Wizard of Wordcraft, the Prince of the phrase, Mr Jeff Scott.
Jeff (of Showered in Shale fame) has been a great supporter of the meager writing talents of yours truly and asked last year if he could come along and join us for the day to see what it's like working over a winter on a speedway track. Given that much of today's work would revolve around the back breaking cable tying of the kickboards I did give him the chance to duck out, but
true to his word, he was there at 8.45am kitted out in boots and waterproofs.
Gerald is still recovering from his recent operation and spent much of the morning encouraging us from the comfort of a chair in the tea room, reading the Speedway Star and drinking coffee, made by the irreplaceable Shirley.
My first task was to carry the air
pumps out to the bottom of turn 1. This is as far as it is possible at Blundson and they are heavy. In addition, their shape makes it impossible to carry them easily. Breathing heavily and seating profusely I lug the damn thing down the greyhound track, attach it to the fence, prime it and the fire it up. The water that has gathered on and behind the fence flows
freely across the shale, heading for the turn 1 drains.
Jeff joins Ernie, John and me on the kickboards. He drills the sets of two holes in the fence skirt, ERnie drills the associated holes in the kickboards, John inserts the cable ties and I follow up, tightening up the ties and making sure that the rubber kickboards
sit evenly on the track surface.
We are joined by Punch and Rosco. Jeff joins them for a chat and I am instantly reminded of the post war photographs from the Yalta Conference with Stalin, Roosevelt and Churchill. Maybe it's Punch's stalinist style hat or maybe it's just from the sense of power and authority that the three exude!
Ernie and I carry on while the "Brains' Trust" put the speedway world to right.
We are soon joined by our senior Start Marshall, Stan Potter. When he asks (no doubt tongue in cheek) if anything has been done to the track since the end of the season Ernie grips his electric drill with menacing power and I grind my teeth.
We take a late lunch when the cable ties are used up and my new drill jams itself.
Back in the tea room there is much chat about the state of speedway and who will be the teams to watch out for. Everyone agrees that the "dark horses" could well be the Lakeside Hammers.
We are joined another stalwart of the track at Blunsdon, Roy. He can still remember being taken to the first meeting at Blunsdon on the famous black cinders.
He and I set out to finish clearing the white line on turn 4 in readiness for its painting on Saturday. Brian Cox, still working on the changing rooms, gets some
stick about the white line. Rumours that he once painted it all with a brush no bigger than a tooth brush are not far from the truth!
Punch, Roy and I take new shingle and stones down to top dress the drain on turns 1 and 2. Before we know it we have our very own pebbly beach. All that is needed now is a sunshade, a deck chair
and a large exotic cocktail.
As the others depart after a hard working but very satisfying day's work, Punch and I turn our attention to the lake that is forming in the corner of the main car park. Our drainage is so good that, where the pipe surface, a lake has appeared. Just think, no we have our own beach and our
own lido! Eschewing swimming trunks and a chance to practice our aquatic skills, Punch and I set about removing a shrub and bramble covered bank that is preventing the water from running away into a small stream at the back of the car park.
Punch attacks the problem head on.
Engage gear, full throttle and the lurch forward battering all in front of him to one side. A small tree bends and snaps as the JCB hurtles into the undergrowth.
It has been well documented in the blog about how much Punch loves driving the JCB; here he is in his element. I stand well back!
We soon move the obstruction and while Punch clears debris from the stream's path I struggle through the Somme like sludge and clear a path for the sudden torrent of rancid water that heads my way.
Satisfied that the Blunsdon Lake will soon recede we head back, pack up the equipment and head
on home.
It's been a good day. We are well on schedule for the pre season practice sessions and the press day.
One week to go. I can almost hear the engines revving, and that smell .... ahhhhh, methanol!
I should also mention that at long last I was able to meet up with Karen, the club's physio.
We'll be back on Saturday morning, all of us. So Rita, if you could let Ernie come out and play we'd really appreciate it.
