A small issue with the 260cc engine. Well, depends on your view of 'small' I suppose. Looks like the inlet valve may not have been seated properly, so some of the fuel/air mixture was being blown back into the carburettor, causing fuel to spill everywhere when the engine was running.

Add a little spark to this, you get a lovely little fireworks display that needs a bit of fire extinguishing by a rather sweary Martin who is trying to avoid the whole of AJP UK going up in flames. We'll put that one in the "needs a little work" pile.

Yet, at the same time, we discover that AJP Portugal have been manufacturing and testing 230cc and 250cc engines to fit the PR3. We are hoping to get our hands on one (or more) of these in the coming weeks.

Thing is, TransOrientale have a hard limit on bike size. The bike must have a minimum engine size of 250cc, and must be capable of 250km without refuelling. The second of these is not a problem - the little PR3 will do 100km on 5 litres of fuel - but the larger engine is the main one we need to crack.

My ITM has no constipation worries - I just thought I'd announce that to the world - since he is off to Heroes Legend in just over 1 week. Him and Big Oz, ready to roll. Taking off from Paris, right under the Eiffel Tower next weekend.

It will be tough - it's the original Paris-Dakar route - and will be about 3 weeks of hell. There will be much swearing, much why-oh-why-did-I-ever-sign-up-for-this, and much good humour. They willnever be the same again - it is impossible to travel to the remotest parts of the world where people have nothing and return from that unchanged.

The Missus, with her ususal ruthless efficiency, is all packed for Dawn to Dusk. The bike is ready, she's ready, the van is booked. The only question mark is me. Am I ready? I don't know. Is my shoulder ready? I guess we'll find out soon enough.

I was praying for rain, but now I'm not so sure. My original thinking was that I'd have an advantage on the lightest enduro bike in the world, versus the heavier KTMs, when we're fighting for the same amount of grip. As the start of the race gets closer, I'm less keen on the whole rain thing.

Come Sunday night, we'll know what happened Sunday afternoon. Sunday afternoon is an obstacle - a means to an end. Nothing more.

I have a spare bike from Martin, my own bike is fully race-prepped, and this is the closest to a factory ride I'll ever get. There are few people in the world who are insane enough to consider taking a PR3 to Dawn to Dusk - Martin is probably the only other person who would even think about it - when when we get out there and they see how the little lady handles, then I think others may well think differently.

But what I will go through in Wales this weekend is just a pimple compared to what Oz and my ITM will be doing over the next few weeks. I'll finish 6 hours of hard riding and have a nice cup of tea - they'd just be at their first refuelling point and still have nearly 3 weeks to go.

Do I wish I was gong with them? Yes, obviously. Would I be going if I hadn't been injured? Probably. And, if I am honest, I'm a little bit envious of them.

But let me be clear. There's a big difference between envy and jealousy. Jealousy is where you see that somebody has something, and you don't want them to have it - you want to have it instead. Envy is where you see that somebody has something, and you want it too. So I'm envious, but not jealous - it's an important distinction.

Oz and my ITM are fantastic people who deserve much. They deserve to get to Dakar and, if heart and spirit alone are the judges, then they will. The fact that I wish I was with them does not rob them of anything.

Gentlemen, do well. And wherever you go, may your Gods go with you. But Oz, try and go a bit easy on the whoop-ass ...

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