That's one of Martin's favourite phrases. Well, I'm not actually sure if it's one of his favourites, but I hear him say it a lot.

I got a phone call yesterday from Robert, the farmer. He had a particularly brilliant time last weekend marshalling the World Enduro Championships in Wales. Darren Wheeler (whom you've heard me talk about) came 18th. Tyson and Dave Nuttall didn't finish - it was that tough.

Robert is setting up a session with Dave Nuttall, him, me and - oh-my-god - Darren Wheeler for a spot of bike riding. That's Darren and Wheeler. It's a bit like somebody saying "I'll get my mate Muhammed to give you a few boxing tips". As I've said before (blogs passim) - when the pupil is ready, the teacher will arrive.

Anyway, "so now we're here". When I make a navigation error and end up in the middle of Salisbury Plain completely off the track, I get Martin stopping me and getting the maps out and saying "so now we're here". When we get a bike fall over in a massive puddle and get completely drowned - "so now we're here". You get the idea.

We nearly lost Martin yesterday. I'm not sayin we'd have missed him, but for him to check out without having the common courtesy to build me a minimum 250cc rally bike would have been a bit rude don't you think?

He was out walking his dog and the dog took off. Whoosh. Or Woof. Or whatever noise it is that dogs make when they take off. Whoosh! Woof! Splash! Fido had fallen down an old Victorian well and was swimming around in the water about 4 or 5 feet from the well top.

Martin had the presence of mind to call his Missus and tell her what was going on. He did this before trying to rescue the dog. I think that he did it because he (his words) hates the dog and it's his wife's dog and he wanted her to know what a proper pain in the arse it was. In any event, the phone call was a good idea.

The dog is getting tired by now, and can't get out of the water because of the sheer and slippery 150-year-old walls all covered in slime and all crumbling bricks and stuff. It's starting to panic and disappear under the water as its energy fades.

He leaned over the side of the well to try and fish the dog out. It's a big dog and quite heavy. He managed to get a hold of it and then Splash! He's in the water along with the dog. Skanky, smelly, stagnant putrid water.

Martin manages to find a small ledge under the water to put a foot on and, thankfully, it bears his weight. He tries time after time to grab the dog and lift it out of the water and the dog - all panicky - isn't getting the message. Eventually, the dog cottons on to what is going and uses Martin as a bit of a stepping stone to get out of the well. Martin's foot comes off the ledge and he can't find it again.

So here's Martin, all covered in this shitty and smelly liquid, treading water in a well that he can't get out of. The dog, back on dry land, is helpfully barking at him to tell him that being stuck in a well is not a very good idea.

Every time he tries to climb out, the ageing bricks in the well shaft crumble and fall into the water. There's nothing to get a hold of, dry land is only five feet away, and there's a hundred feet of cold and dark water beneath him.

True to form, Martin says:

"So now we're here"

He treads water for another half hour hour or so before his next door neighbour - alerted by his Missus - comes fishes out a rather smelly, cold, wet and tired Martin. He did not admit to giving the dog a good kick but I know I would have been well tempted.

This did not stop him from delivering Jago's bike to Midwest today, for a particularly baking hot and tough enduro. I wasn't doing it - I am on call for work - but Jago managed 8 laps plus a particularly impressive off which knacked his shoulder.

As I've said many many times before, and will say again, if there is ever one guy you'd want to be stuck in the middle of nowhere with then It's Martin. He is as unflappable as a Dodo's wings, and as resourceful as a fox with a PhD.

And if he thinks that a little swim in a well is going to get him out of building a 250cc rally bike from the little PR3 then he's mistaken. I mean, as if falling into a well and drowning is a valid excuse. Really.

Seriously though, we're all very very glad that he's OK. Really. Although after a couple of size-10's to the backside, the dog might feel differently ...

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