Venue:- Cabbages & Condoms Resort, Sap Tai (North of Khao Yai)Hares: Sverre 'S' Rakkenes and Kathleen Spiess (with lots of help from friends).Date:- 15/16 December 2007   Rides:- 282/283Scribe:- ThunderpussyI am fresh off the proverbial boat, directly from Africa to Thailand. I know how to order a beer in Thai. I know how to ask for the pisser in Thai. I even know my BTS stop now. Until recently, my name was Thunderpussy and I had never Hashed on a bike in my life. But I digress, this write-up is not about me, it is about all those crazy kids with whom I let my blood-sugar fall to record levels this past weekend somewhere north of Khao Yai. Someone told me Khao Yai is a park north of Krung-Thep, but I was still a virgin until this past weekend so what the hell do I know besides a few useful phrases in Thai?Whenever losing one’s virginity, it is always good to have an abundance of prophylactics - they were plenteous at the Cabbages and Condoms Resort, where most everyone stayed. Condoms in hand, we all begged for lunch before Saturday’s ride which was Hared by Sverre “S” R and Kathleen Spiess. I volunteer Carpet Burn (thanks for the lube) to call Khun Mechai (Founder of PDA/Cabbages & Condoms) to tell him when we say we’re showing up with 100 hungry and probably hung-over kids, we aren’t joking. We need food! After inhaling lunch, we sprinted to the Hash Cash, paid our dues and watched while the overconfident of us bit it crossing from the sidewalk into the meeting-point meadow. I only speak enough French to order a beer and ask for the pisser, but I am fairly certain the crew next to me was taking bids on whether or not the next rider would crash trying to hop the aqueduct. Apparently endo is an English-French cognate.We were told to expect a hilly ride somewhere between 25 and 45 klicks with loads of barbed wire in the beginning and one water stop. With condoms in our Camelbaks, we hit the trail. There was a bit of a bottleneck at the onset, but soon the men and the women left me behind…errrr…were separated from the boys and the girls. Barbed-wire and electric fences are no obstacle to this group, save a Miss Emmanuelle “Flemish-Separatist” Timmermans, who had a spat with one of the fences and ended up on her chin (and elbow and shoulder and knee). Can someone put that spat on YouTube?One of the first checks had us milling around like those monsters on Night of the Living Dead in search of brain, but someone had a breakthrough and off we went through the barbed wire. Most of the subsequent checkpoints were broken by the time I arrived. However, at kilometer 18 the Hares played a cruel and awful trick. The zombies were at the top of a mountain (they all walked up; I saw them). There was a checkpoint, but those sent to do the recon at the bottom of the hill failed, one after another. At least 15 of us walked up and down the hill three times, tromping through the bush looking for the absent bit of shredded paper. We even tried to call the Hare, but he was absent too. Eventually one of the non-zombies amongst us found the trail and off we went. It was a lovely and serendipitous spot to be lost. The view down the valley was spectacular and it appeared most of us were ready for a break.What followed were more hills and some brilliant single track. There were many opportunities for the brainless to let go of the brakes and race to the bottom of the hill only to climb back up through the tall grass. Remind me not to buy those faux tattoo arm protectors. Apparently they do magic for your hydraulic brake lines and can cause broken collar bones. I saw it happen – it was not pretty. We stumbled into a fantastic water spot where the naam blau and Gatorade were ice cold and the conversation was great. I saw a few others with superficial, but ugly injuries (see aforementioned reference to the brainless that let go of the brakes on the downhill…shame shame…your mother isn’t proud of you). The post-water ride was just what everyone needed – relatively flat with significant portions on tar, easing our aching muscles. We stumbled into the condom joint, hungry and thirsty for some tasty adult beverages. Indeed, ‘twas a good ride.Aside from the agony in my arse, Sunday’s Hangover Ride was fantastic – soft rolling hills through farms and small villages and two great laps through a beautiful Wat. The temperature was perfect. I heard there was wonderful waterfall-cum-water break, but a local farmer saw the Flemish Separatist approaching his fence and wanted nothing of it – trail closed. Oh well, ‘twas a lovely ride anyway.Thanks to the Hares and the rest of the gang responsible for making it a fantastic weekend! Hasta enero!Atenciosamente,Thunderpussy