Cholmondeley Pageant of Power review "When we took round the Isle of Man," said Martin's father, who bears a striking resemblance to the late, great Fred Dibnah, "it rode so hard it shook my teeth out." The powerboats, the scramblers, the rally cars and even the Breitling wing-walkers loved it, as did the extraordinary Super Moto riders, who slithered and slipped their way round the course faster than anything else on two, three or four wheels. When the going gets tough, the tough get going as the old saying goes and the organisers, particularly James and Lucy Hall the event directors, Pippa Lomax entry secretary and Ian Watson, clerk of the course, simply brushed aside setbacks that would stymie lesser beings. I've joked in the past about this event being comfortably south of over-organised, but in reality it is a supremely well-run show and also one of the friendliest and most inclusive few days you could wish for. Little moments like the stand girls laughing as they swapped high heels for wellies in a downpour and the display helicopter pilots looking for a place to stow two umbrellas just added to the fun, and it's difficult to have airs and graces and a corporate sneer when you're standing ankle deep in mud. Somehow the rain stayed off for the concert, where the Manchester Camerata Orchestra sounded as crisp as my glass of chilled Sauvignon. Back in the bar, Chris Williams had been teasing the Germans from the Sinsheim museum running about the poor performance of Brutus in the flame-throwing stakes. With honour at stake and maybe a drink taken, both sides repaired to the pits at midnight for a flame-out. History doesn't record a winner, but the sky glowed orange. The sun emerged from the FBI Witness Protection Program on Sunday, crowds turned out (there were 50,000 over the weekend) and the track was dry. Few of the competitors believed it would stay that way so the start fizzed with steely-eyed concentration and lots of tyre smoke. The supercar class was expected to produce a winner, especially with Niki Faulkner, the former course record holder, in a Lamborghini Aventador, Mike Smith in a Radical SR3 SL and Duncan Tappy in a BAC Mono, but it was Scott Mansell in a Caterham Superlight SP/300.R who got fastest time of the day at 61.89sec, a beautifully driven and well deserved new course record. I hung it on the cable, but my 950cc Moto Guzzi Le Mans engine struggles to better 80bhp and was 24mph down through the speed trap compared with Andrew Fowkes's gorgeous 1.3-litre Grinnall Scorpion, which won the class. "When are you going to pick up your new engine?" said Nigel of NBS, who builds my engines. I don't think he quite believes how many revs I stick on his creations, but it's a testament that I haven't yet lost one of his. Last thing on Saturday came a call demanding the Triking down at the start line. I slunk down, convinced I'd done something seriously wrong and was about to receive a howler from Ian Watson. Turned out I'd won the motorcycle-class regularity, which is more by luck than judgement, but they made a big fuss of me and I was as red as Mr Ribena. Fantastic weekend all round, then, who cares about a bit of rain?