Maxwell Mark Power was born to the sound of screaming racing engines. His family lived just one mile from the Hanger Straight (as the crow flies) at Silverstone, and it was British Grand Prix day. Max grew up in a comfortable home with every spare space containing huge stacks of old Motor Sport and Autosport magazines, as well as motoring and motorcycle newspapers. Little wonder that in his early years he thought that motoring was the real world ... and that the rest of it was, well, just strange. His mother said his first word had been Mummy; in fact, it had been money. Even at this young age, Max knew that if he wanted to be a racing driver he would need lots of money. With single-minded determination, persistence and some skill, Max did become a successful racing motorist, firstly on motorbikes, then with racing cars. Jetting off all over the world to the next race meeting, he never stayed anywhere long, and always left as soon as the scream of the last racing engine had died away. Max enjoyed winning many races, but a constant shortage of money, female distractions and a number of HUGE crashes ensured that he never made the "big time." Max retired from racing a number of times, but his addiction would always drag him back to the sport he loved. He now lives alone in his large workshop in the East of England, surrounded by his trophies from old glories and bits of broken racing cars. However, he is still an optimist, and his motto remains, "Where's the next race? I'm going to win this time."