For many days, the technique for raising the tree haunted me. I took my cue from the raising of the London Eye, built flat and then winched up into position. The tree was built in two half-cones that lay on the floor.
But during this last long night, several attempts to raise the second half of the Cyclemas Tree were unsuccessful. It seemed the actual size of the winch itself was going to be the main technical hitch to getting this thing together. The BBC and other local TV stations were scheduled to film the procession of the Cyclemas Tree from its cradle at Modern Art Oxford, through the streets of Oxford, and onto Gloucester Green. Failure was definitely not an option, and we were so close to being finished, having fended off every challenge Cyclemas had thrown at us along the way.
But by midnight on the night before, after an evening of failed attempts at raising the second half of the Tree, we still only had one half of it raised.
Throughout our various attempts to raise the second half, a tricky manouvre that was difficult to conduct strictly within the health and safety regulations, we had to entertain the usual constant stream of drunken and semi-idiot remarks. It seems this particular night, they were all out, each heckler genuinely thinking themselves witty and original by shouting out 'Oi! That's me bike!'. We ran out of enthusiasm even for our most well-crafted comebacks, always careful not to create enemies for our soon-to-be-born Cyclemas Tree.
But it became clear that we were going to have to get some sleep and come in early the next morning to get the tree finished. Despite the upbeat banter and good-natured ribbing, each of us went through our moment of silent doubt that this was going to work. It was entirely untested, and cooked up on a hunch by a one-time engineer who never before built so much as a garden shed.
Exhausted and worried, Michael and Tom and I agreed to meet up at 6:30 the next freezing morning.
After a few adjustments and a good deal of quiet panic, the second half went up and just tipped beyond the critical point above the centre of gravity. It made a satisfying whack when all its four wheels hit the ground and it stood on its own facing the first erected half. We winched the second half of the tree in position and lashed the two halves together. And after some further last-minute panics, we opened the heavy steel gates to Modern Art Oxford to the rolling news cameras, just 45 minutes later than scheduled.
