2018 gasps its last agonal breaths with only a crappy holiday or two left to endure. Six weeks after the last race, three months before the first. Staring out at last Sunday's gift, a foot of snow, coldly book-ended by grey days of torrential rain, watery sunshine, mud and a stupid time change. One wishes to sleep 18 hours a day.
But the man has other plans, as well as a garage full of projects. There's motors to be built and rebuilt, van interiors to be re-designed, parts sourced, money upon money burnt. This is racing, and it's never over.
Even when it seems like it's over.
|Flying into spring, hopefully...|