Date: 30/31 August 2008.  Ride No:- 298Venue: Wang Sing Resort, KanchanaburiHares: Peter ‘Maverick’ Laverick, Lem ‘No Good Boyo’ Morgan and Terry Moore.Scribe: Roger EverettRide number 296 was hared by the AARP boys, Maverick, No Good Boyo and Terry Moore. They deserve a muddy hand for creating a truly memorable ride…slide…walk.None-the-less, if all three of the hares had been in the circle, they would certainly have deserved a double down-down for their deliberately deceptive description of the ride. They wrote that the ride would be a “45km ride on laterite, mud, sand, rock and even a bit of hardtop. Stunning scenery if you get the chance to take your eyes off the trail. One water stop after about 20km, but there aren't many other shops so carry plenty of water. Punctures are likely so solid tyres are recommended.”In hindsight, the description should have read like this: “50 km ride. No matter what the trail looked like when we laid paper, it will be unrecognizable after it rains. Stunning scenery, if you can get the mud out of your eyes. Water stop to lull you into a false sense of security before starting the really hard part. No shops when you need them. Tough luck. Punctures will be the least of your worries. If you could buy Teflon coated tires that don’t collect mud and could pull a trailer with spare parts, we’d recommend it, but since you can’t do any of those things, tough mud pies. Hope to see you before dinner.”In addition to being an adventure, the ride was a learning experience for me. I’m always glad to learn a new lesson or two and need to thank some of the more experienced hash members for the lessons they taught me this past weekend. I’m assuming you can benefit from their experience as well.No Meat taught me to never brag about a run of good luck to other hashers the night before the ride. She learned this lesson the hard way by becoming the first to snap her derailleur on Saturday after just saying Friday night that she’d “never done it before.” (Neil can you confirm that?)Mike Leonard illustrated the second lesson for me later Saturday. At the end of the ride, he was found in the circle complaining that half-way through the ride he’d had enough of the mud and decided to take the “short cut” back to the resort. Finally, safe, warm and full of beer back in the circle, he confided in us that it wasn’t the mud that had him chapped and irritated, it was the fact that the “short cut” turned out to be longer than the original trail. All of which just goes to show that in life it doesn’t pay to take short cuts, and that while it may be true that the hash has plenty of wankers, there is only one Cranky Wanker.It’s always great to learn an important lesson at someone else’s expense, but what about the ride itself. How do we judge the success or failure of a given ride?Maybe it’s by the raw numbers. Here are a few from Wang Sing:Thirteen--the number of new members who will probably never return to ride another bike hash.Ten—the approximate number of pounds of mud clinging to each bike.Nine—the people who serenaded Lloyd while he drank his lager from his glass slipper. Dressed in his finest new wear from head to toe, he probably would have struck quite a dapper pose…if we could have seen him in the dark. (And who would have know that all Aussies are illegitimate b@$+@?()$. They didn’t teach us that back when I went to school, Linda.)Six--the number of people who snapped their derailleurs clean off, twisting their chains and getting their knickers in a knot in the process. (It was an ugly scene. Not to be witnessed by the faint hearted.)Five—the approximate number of kilometers riders had to walk, slipping and sliding, with bikes slung over their shoulders cursing the hares, and the heavens, all the way back to dry trail.Three—Those who had to take their down-downs for falling: Tantalizer, Snap and Sticky Tool. (Thanks for taking your down downs for all the others who fell as well, but were happy to remain anonymous in the dark circle.)Two—the number of hours it took to wash the mud out of every nook and cranny. Oh! And to get the bike cleaned off too.One—the number of beers it took to help you forget your misery and begin to think you might be crazy enough to give it a go again next month.Zero—the number of whistles brought to the hash by Tricia a.k.a.Carpet Burn. Did you notice that eerie silence? The only whistle I heard along one stretch of trail was from the security guard at a warehouse directing hash traffic.In the end, I think there is only one number that really counts, and it is a percentage:100 percent--the number of hashers who felt they had done something truly unique and challenging with their Saturday in an out the way place they probably would never have visited without the hard work of the hares. After all, “It's not just mountain bike riding, it's an adventure.”Thanks hares!!! Well done and appreciated. ON ON!