I'm not really sure where this one is going, please be warned before we start. It will go somewhere, but that somewhere may not be where we expect.

The Missus was out tonight, taking the Wee Yin to rehearsal for her show. The Wee Yin does amateur dramatics, and she's very very good at it. A proper little drama queen. Just like MuckSpreader, who is in the same Dram Group. MuckSpreader of the "Santa Baby" fame. A little drama queen with an interest in quantum physics.

She said to me the other day - "Daddy, there was quantum physics on the TV. A boy just randomly turned into a banana". One day she'll send rockets to the moon. As Rutherford himself said - "if this does not confuse you, then it's because you haven't understood it". She listens to the audi book of Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy when she goes to bed. And she gets all of the jokes. There is trouble ahead.

Anyway, your Missus has gone out. You have the evening to yourself. What do you do?

Me, I played the piano. Yes, the piano. I am very good at playing the piano. The Missus is also very good at playing the piano, but in a different way. She reads music, I can't read a note of it. She reads music the way you and I read a book. I just listen to a tune on the radio, sit at the piano, and start playing it. If it's a really really difficult tune then it might take me about 15 minutes or so.

I have perfect pitch. When I was a child away at school, they threw music lessons and all sorts at me. I could be a concert pianist one day, they told me. Then they took this passion I had, this spooky ability to just instantly be able to play a tune I've only just heard, and threw staffs and staves and crotchets and little spidery writing on music paper at me. My interest lasted about 10 seconds after that. Much more enjoyabe to just hear a tune and play it.

So I'd go to the lesson, and not pay attention. When the teacher played the music to show me what needed done, I'd memorise the tune as she played it. When it was my turn to play, I'd just play by ear - from memory. I still can't read a note, but I can play pretty much any tune I hear.

It's not just the piano either, I am also reasonably good at playing the guitar. I only learned to play the guitar because my dad said I couldn't. I found an old six-string in a mates wardrobe one day, took it home and tld my Ma and Da that it was a fiver. My Da declared that it was a waste of money since it would just be a "flash in the pan". I played it till my fingers bled and, I believe, my Da ended up quite proud.

So, anyway, the Missus is out and that's when I play the piano. Firstly, because she hates me when I play the piano. I can sit for hours and just bang out tune after tune (sometimes just making it up as I go along) and never read a single line of music. She doesn't hate me playing, she just hates the way I do it without thinking about it - sort of like the way you don't really think about blinking. I suppose I would too.

So if I had asked my Da for money for a bike, he'd have said "No". Firstly, because he doesn't like them one bit (is this why I do like them, I have to wonder?). Secondly, because it would just be a "flash in the pan".

Yet, here we are, 300 posts on from my immortal "today was the day", and I'm still at it. I spoke to Martin today and I was just so so so gutted that I wasn't able to just go out trail riding at AJP today.

That said, whenI metioned the Optice 2000, he suggested that we talk about the options. This is a step forward.

You may well be wondering why on earth I'd want to share such intimate details with y'all, bearing mind I have probably never met you and you don't know who I am.

The main reason, as I said those 300 posts ago, is that this blog is ot just for you - it's for me. It's a record of this journey I have undertaken. This journey of getting from zero-offroad experience to finishing the Dakar rally by a guy who, only three years ago, was in a mental hospital.

On this journey Ihave met David - my ITM giant-of-a-man. I have met Oz - heart-of-gold-and-skull-of-concrete. I've met Martin, who taught me to ride offroad and who has taught me mechanics and bits and pieces. I've met Patsy, Simon, Zippy, Gary Ennis, Phil Noone and a whole bunch of thoroughly nice people like Duncan Tweedie, Ian Shankie, John Whiteford.

Speaking of which.

• For sale. One Dakar Rally KTM. One owner. Ready-to-race. Fully scrutineered. Never used.

My ITM stripped his bike the other night, put all the oily bits in the bath. Missus ITM just laughed when she saw it. I often think that it's harder to be a Dakar Missus than it is to be a Dakar entrant. We only need to go flat out for 15 days, but you guys need to g flat out for the whole year efore in which we prepare for it.

My ITM is solid. Sort of like a nightclub bouncer with common sense and the odd magpie tendency. He'll make it all the way. I wish I was going with him, but injury conspired to make that one a no-go. We'll ride together, but not in Heroes.

I used to think that the world was hostile. The people I have met since getting into biking - offroad biking in particular - shows me how wrong I was. Offroad bikers are the salt of the earth, rally bikers especially so. My life has greatly greatly improved since knowing the likes of my ITM, Oz and Billy.

We wish them well.

Oh, and if you fancy a romantic trip to Paris in the Spring, Heroes Legen sets of from under the Eifell Tower on 8 March.

Sho her ou love her - take her to Paris and treat her to the start line of Heroes Legend.

Download the Manic Mission Information Pack for the full story ...