What a brilliant weekend!

On Friday night during my regular guitar lesson with Ellis of LSG, a musician to his fingertips, reckoned I was ready to have a go at recording. I’ll always be a bit rough and ready (“Musics for zeros, noise is for heroes” – The Damned) but I thought why not? During the session (!) I made lots of mistakes but Ellis made it sound brilliant. I need to practise my lead. And the timing of the intro was rubbish. It wasn't "1,2,3,4" but more "1,2,3,4,5". I know there's a fifth count when The Ramones go "1,2,3,4" but this was more Corporal Jones than Dee Dee Ramone. Anyway, by overlaying different tracks and letting me loose on his bass guitar and then working his magic Ellis turned me into a rock god! That’s the way it feels anyway. Thanks mate!

Then on Saturday morning I finally got the illustration for the back of The Horsepower Whisperer right. I’ve been wrestling with this for months. During June I worked up a picture of an Allosaurus riding a streetfighter motorcycle. First of all I had to get the expression right with lots of teeth – predaciously cheerful. Then I had to work out the hip articulation as he starts to get his knee out to get his knee slider down. Next was the question of where would his tail go? The bike had to be designed, too, and then balanced in the right position – coming off the gas, pulling a slight stoppie as the allosaurus eyeballs the viewer just before pointing his bike at them to run them over. Or swallow them. Nice guy.

I'm particularly pleased with the flecks of dribble as the allosaurus does a little stoppie. Note the Cornish logo on the knee sliders

Anyway, after many underlays, drawings and rejects, I eventually got the drawing to somewhere approaching my satisfaction. But when I began to put it together with the back cover text, it didn’t match. It was clear the illustration had to be of Hob, the Horsepower Whisperer, not one of the bike riding dinosaurs. They feature more in the sequel. 

So back to the drawing room, where, on Saturday there was another moment of epiphany as I drew Hob confirming with his spirit level what his senses tell him – that something is destroying souls in Mourion. He’s got his motorcycle - Nosferatu - in its crate on his shoulders, too.

Nosferatu in its packing case and a zero reading on his spirit level - Hob looks puzzled

The back cover was now almost finished. Becky at Red Snapper said she can sort out the various layers of text, illustrations and graphic devices and incorporate them all as one. Once that's done and I have the interior pages formatted I can submit my book to Lightning Source for printing so getting my book in my hands as a proper book is a very real prospect.

But Saturday wasn’t over yet. That afternoon I set off for Frome in Somerset with some of my punk rock friends because The Stranglers were playing there. And they were brilliant! The only downer was someone was letting off the most incredibly eggy farts during the gig. It started during the opening number, “Toiler on the sea.” Ever heard of synesthesia? The stimulation of one sense by another? If you associate colours with letters of the alphabet then you’re a synesthetic and with that bloody awful pong in my nose it sounded like Baz Horne was singing “I’m a toilet on the sea.” I thought it was all part of the act to start with and was looking forward to a live version of “Down in the sewer.” Anyway, the pooey–ness didn’t detract from the band’s performance. Did I mention they were brilliant? I’d have liked to hear “Go buddy go” but their setlist was pretty extensive as it was. I just didn’t want them to stop playing even though we had a three hour journey back west afterwards.

I would have paid more attention to this Darrian in the paddock if the weather had been better

Then it was Sunday. So I took my dirty washing to the Castle Hillclimb at Lostwithiel. Boy was it wet but it didn’t stop the lads and lasses blasting up the hill. The times were not as good as they would have been in the dry but there was still plenty of interesting machinery to see in action. The car I would most like to take home was a Darrian T9 although the Metro 6R4 would have been nice, too.

Early experiments with my digital camera are encouraging

Unfortunately, the event was cut short due to the ridiculous weather. Getting in to the carpark had been tricky enough but getting out was worse. I was in my little Citroen C15D van and all forward movement was lost at two points as I slithered up the field but by reversing and judicious clutch control I got going again and eventually left the van pointing down the hill. 

When it came to leaving, loads of cars were getting stuck. By now, the depth of mud by the gateway was about 15cm. A delta of it spread out into the field used as a carpark and as they came to leave all the sporty cars of the spectators span to a standstill. A couple of four–wheel–drives were then pressed into service to tow them out but everyone was getting filthy. When my turn came, I went wide of the gateway and managed to keep my momentum going until I was on the road. I guess my skinny tyres cut through the mud. It felt good though! Overall I thought this event was a bargain. You can see the whole course from the bend above the cattle grid bend and as well as spectating I got to do some trialling! Bonus!

After all that I was a bit late getting my washing to my cleaning lady in Darite. Fortunately, it hadn’t got any muddier from attending the Castle Hillclimb and Kath gave me two baskets full of stuff she’d done earlier in the programme. What a little treasure as my mum would say. It’s a shame Kath can’t work her magic on my very muddy van.