Jago and Missus Jago and Jago's Wee Yins all came down to visit in-laws this weekend. Their in-laws live just a few miles away from us, and Jago had some gear to pick up, so we all went out.

Speaking of Jago, there's some lovely footage of him almost binning it at the start line of Dawn to Dusk. You'll spot him easily - the name "Jago" is emblazoned in bright yellow letters at the top of the video:



Anyway, the plan was that the girls and Wee Yins would get an opportunity to repay the favour of us having them slopping round muddy enduro tracks whilst we ride - they went horse riding and Jago and I were relegated to official photographers. An interesting role reversal.

Now, Jago and I could have easily went on the horses but there was no way I was getting astride something that has a mind of its own and no brakes. Jago was of a similar opinion.

Whilst the girls and Wee Yins trotted around and got sore bottoms from the saddles, Jago and I checked out the horse boxes and realised that you could fit a couple of bikes in one. We also realised that you could stand up in them, and that you could - if you were so minded - sling a couple of hammocks in them. Our days of camping in wet tents are numbered.

If the horsey people found out that we were planning something as sacreligious as turning a horse box into a offroad bike transporter then they'd probably have lynched us.

So, anyway, the Wee Yin is on this horse and being led around by the stable girl. She had a bit of a moment when trying to trot (you know that whole up-down-up-down thing you have to do) and her foot slipped out of the stirrup. Bit of drama there. Quick grab for the saddle, re-seat the foot, and all is well.

The stable girl asked the Wee Yin if she was OK. Jago and I absolutely pissed ourselves at her utterly serious response:

"My foot slipped off the peg, but I dealt with it and I'm back on my pegs again so we can give it a handful now".

Aww, bless.

Speaking of getting astride things I'm scared of, I've been in deep deep discussions with a rather unsavoury gentleman by the name of Zippy. Zippy is the owner of a KTM 200 2-stroke, which used to belong to another unsavoury character by the name of Duncan Tweedy. Zippy has decided that he is getting a bit old for this whole kickstart malarky, and is getting himself a 250 2-stroke, which has an electric start of sorts.

So, it's entirely possible that we could be getting our hands on a KTM 2-stroke in the near future. I have also got my eyes on a Gas-Gas EC200 2-stroke, but I'm not sure that the groat negotiations will work out in a way that everybody is happy with.

In a way, this is taking my own advice. When people come up to AJP and they discuss getting themselves a bike, I always advise them to get a bike that scares them. My thinking here is that their riding is only going to get better, and if they get themselves a placid and docile bike that doesn't push them, then they will stagnate.

And yet, at the same time, I have done exactly this. Time to take my own advice and be scared. Seems like an awful good idea right now, but I bet that I'll be singing a different tune after I've wheelied right on to my arse a few times.

Still, if you don't do things that scare you then you'll never push your comfort zone.

The human body can't tell the difference between excitement and fear. The physical sensation is exactly the same - the same nerves tingle and the churning in your stomach is the same. The only difference between excitement and fear is how your brain perceives it - it is your brain that decides which of the two it should interpret the feelings as.

For now though, it's fear.

And I was thinking about my whole footpeg issue. Maybe if I were to fit stirrups on the bike instead of footpegs then it would make life a lot more interesting. Perhaps I could even argue that thie bike is a horse, and then get away with riding on bridleways.

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