Rides 174 and 17519/20 April 2003Park n' Ranch, RatchaburiHare:- Num (Veerachai R)Scribe:- Frank Bohnet The Hare and the 10 Disciples/o:p/o:pEver asked yourself what misdirection means? Not after you were on this ride. If you were on this ride. If you were able to find this ride. Most never did. At the time of writing this, many are still missing. And those who missed it were not missed. Even the circle gets dismissed./o:p/o:pA beautiful April day, the fresh sauna breeze makes the 40 degrees feel like 39. On the desert ranch no intelligent life to be found, just horses, vultures and the 10 disciples. And Margarita Magdalena. It is Easter afterall. An Easter lamb dies. But not before darkness. The containers are in darkness too. No power, no a/c, just the pure and simple heat of a 40 footer. Disciples who have never seen each other before share the same bed. Junk beds? Bunk beds! Some disciples are leaving the scene after having checked the containers. Wedding in Bangkok? Who believes their bloody excuses anyway. My driver knows better excuses than that./o:p/o:pAnd the ride? 45 percent upwards in rocky terrain, no problem for our black disciple. The same right back down? No problem for him too. Innumerous punctures catapult him to the end of the field. The Hare skillfully lays the paper with false trails ending at the Burmese border. Little skirmish with the Burmese army, controlled retreat into known terrain. We gladly accept the leadership of German army experience. The Hare leads us through more uninhabited areas. The few creatures living here have never seen disciples on two wheels before. One of the disciples is equipped with a brand new 1-MB-James-Bond-credit-card-camera trying to collect evidence for breach of the 10 hasher commandments. Judging from the obscure expression on his agent face, he must have been bloody successful. Punishment dismissed. More rocks, sand, thorns, punctures, puddles, hills, what would you like, our Hare has it all. We will follow him whereever he goes. But not tonight./o:p/o:pFinally, after dark, it’s all bread and wine. And the thought of having to get up at six in the morning to make an early 8 am motorcycle ride off. This will become one of the alltime Easter classics, I can feel it. Short after in my container, I’m not feeling anything anymore.