Our list of winter works to be completed had been dominated by an ambitious plan to thwart the march of sand across our hallowed shale. Despite previous attempts to put up a barrier that would keep sand on the greyhound track and shale on the speedway, we still found the dread yellow stuff contaminating our surface. Sand and shale do not mix well - the sand prevents the shale from binding together and if shale doesn't bind then it breaks up into dust, if it's dry, or slush if it's wet. Either way, it's a disaster for speedway.
Our cunning plan this year was to use up all of our stock of old kickboards to board the entire circuit on the inner side of the safety fence. Not only would these boards be on the straights and on the bends, they would also be sunk into the shale in trenches dug out of the precious "brown stuff".
In an ordinary winter, this would have been adventurous. We are talking about a trench six inches deep, dug in rock hard material, right up close to a wire fence. The boards must be individually cut to work around the concrete footings for the safety fence that get in the way and each board must be supported by at least three stakes hammered into the solid ground.
Progress initially was slow, painfully slow, but the results were promising. Despite torrential rain, where the boards had been there was no sand run off. By the time that we packed up for Christmas we had boarded all of turns 1 and 2 and the main straight up to the start line.
A couple of weeks after Christmas and we would be finished and well on schedule to complete everything on the now infamous "Ta do Ron, Ron" list.
But then fates and the weather conspired against us. Snow ... lots of it at the start of January threw our planning into disarray. So bad was the snow in Malmesbury, where I live, I couldn't even get out of the street let alone make my way to Blunsdon for the first planned work session of 2010 on the 7th January. The photographs may look idyllic but they're not so attractive when you know you've got a mountain of work to do and the season is just 2 months away.
So the 14th was the first chance that I had to get up to the track. Another heavy downfall of the white stuff on the day before made a journey that normally takes 25 minutes take an hour. Ironically, I only got stuck once - in the deep snow just outside the away pits - the snow was so deep that the car had to be dug and pushed out.
With spectacularly low cloud and a bitter cold it was a dismal scene at Blunsdon.
Our old Ford pickup was coated, in fact the only area of the stadium that was not covered with snow was the greyhound track. This had been cleared of all snow and, apparently, had salt added to prevent frost.
Standing at the pit gate it was impossible to see anything of the track or the main stands - it was a complete white out and any chances that we may have had of getting to work out there were wiped out.
Certainly the 5 or so inches of snow that lay on the track were dramatic, and excellent for snow balling, but little else.
Cold and frustrated we made our way back into the warmth of Number 96 to plan out the rest of the day and savour the aroma of Ron's latest culinary extravaganza - this time a rich spaghetti bolognese.
Look hard and you'll always find something to do. That was a mantra that my father held to and was passed on to me. So we looked and, lo and behold, we found. At the very far end of the pit complex, behind the containers, there is an area that we have never touched. It has become a real dumping ground for everyone at the stadium. At its core was a huge pile of what turned out to be Dutch elm diseased elm boarding. Standing four feet high and spreading much wider, it was placed here a long time before I came to work at the Abbey. So large was it, that no one had ever contemplated moving it or clearing the detritus that surrounded it, until today.
As we worked round it we discovered old sinks and urinals, thrown out when the stadium underwent a face life somewhere back in the mists of time. Old advertising boards and bits of old machinery littered what could, if only we could move the wood stack, become a very useful space.
It was Punch who spotted the solution to all of our problems. The stadium had hired a large JCB with front forks from our friend Andy Nurden. This had been used to clear snow from the car parks and the environs of the stadium so that the usual twice a week market could go ahead. Knowing that it was to be collected, Punch convinced the driver that we had a small job that wouldn't take more than 5 minutes.
Inching the leviathan into a very confined space, the JCB operator carefully guided the forks under the wood pile, lifted it into the air, manoeurved the JCB around delicately and then placed the wood gently down right out of our way. It was very impressive driving. Poor Punch. No longer could he hold onto the mantle of the best JCB driver at the Abbey - this guy was just superb.
Suddenly a job that would have taken us all day was completed in just 10 minutes. Brilliant.
But we weren't the only people working in the stadium. Mind you, with the fog and mist closing in even further, we could hear people at work, but couldn't see them.
I waited by the pit gate until the small greyhound blade appeared, pulled by one of the small tractors. Apparently one valuable meeting had been lost to the weather and the authorities were determined that another wouldn't follow suit.
After our delicious spaghetti bolognese we set to and completely cleared the area, making a very useful space to store the big motorway blade and other pieces of track equipment, especially when Sky come a calling and space is at a premium.
Someone has found a plastic "bouncer" figure that comes equipped with a series of comments, launched when anyone moves in front of it. We particularly like the one that says "You can't come in here ... you're not on the list!" We fantasise about putting our belligerent little friend on the gate for the first meeting of the year.
The afternoon is a short one - the temperature is dropping, the mist is even worse and I need to get my car pulled out of the snow drift that trapped it earlier in the day.
It's been frustrating in that we couldn't get onto the track but at least we've given ourselves a new parking and storage space.
One week on - it's now the 21st January and at last the snow has abated sufficiently to allow us to venture out onto the track. The white stuff is still very obvious on the centre green but it's cleared from the shale.
The snow damage has been quite severe to the track. Once frost gets into the surface it breaks up the top layer and the snowfall has turned areas of the surface into an unwholesome slush, especially where the dogs and their handlers have walked across it on the way to the greyhound finish.
But the good news is that the surface is now much softer and easier to dig.
Mark Price and I start out on digging the trench around turn 4 while Roy and Arron sort out the boards. Punch cuts pegs and drives them in at regular intervals.
Progress is remarkable. In two hours we've managed more than we accomplished in two days.
As soon as we dig the trench it fills with water so we have to get the boards cut, placed and then hammered into place quite quickly. It's a mucky job but it is quite important that we try to keep as much water away from the edge of the shale as possible - this is the area, after all, that we will sit the air fence on.
So delighted are we that Roy and Arron start to dig the trench into turn 3. In the event we didn't manage to get that far but having completed three of the four corners and nearly all of one straight, we were at least making up for lost time.
While we were digging, Mick Hunt and Punch were have a mass clear out in the area around the diesel tank. Honestly, the old place is so tidy now we wont know ourselves.
