Fun in the Field

It's 9.30pm. We picked up our route two hours ago, drove to the Cull Zone and started our evening perambulations. We've done this before. It's less nerve racking now but just as exciting. Until now we've seen nothing. Are we actually achieving anything? I don't know. I hope so.

It's a beautiful clear night. Chilly but not Arctic style. The moon is orange and keeping watch from above. We take a moment to appreciate the stars, torches off. And breathe. We have work to do. Whilst we walk these footpaths, so do contractors with weapons. They're allowed to be here. So are we. Time to be visible. Torches on.

We find a Badger sett. No traps, but then we're still not experienced patrollers, maybe we miss them. We know it's an active sett. We know they're not safe, but keep our fingers crossed and move on. We walk the trails, keeping a close eye on the map, making sure we don't get lost in the dark. Regardless of where you stand in the Badger debate, no one wants to upset landowners by traipsing into the wrong field, or at least we don't. It's a navigational challenge. Your range of sight is reduced to distances that aren't helpful in finding your way. We manage.

We hit a road and take a break, it's a nice evening for a walk. It was pouring the other week. That was character building. As biscuits disappear we hear shots from behind us. Damn. Frustration. We just came from there, they waited for us to pass. Quiet for a moment whilst we hope to Whatever We Believe In that they missed. It was probably back near that sett.

Carry on, there's more ground to cover. A pickup truck passes us, it slows down then tears off into the night. We wander on, chatting, being visible. The pickup passes again in the other direction, slowing again when level with these midnight wanderers. Wish they'd stop discussing horror movies. I tell them that. The conversation moves to Christmas. I tell them to go back to horror movies.

We get a tip off that someone's hoping to shoot roundabouts where we are. They can't do it whilst we're here. Satisfaction in small amounts until we hear another shot somewhere over yonder. We've split slightly, migrated into pairs for conversation and safer walking at the side of the road. Our pickup truck pulls up to the girls in front, slows, window down. A man with all the allure of a cowpat is talking angrily at my friends. They don't bite the bait, they absorb the colourful language admirably, but then they're colourful people anyway. I can't help but feel a little nervous though. He crawls past us, but brings his goading with him. His vocabulary is limited but it's clear he has very strong opinions about our adventure in Britain's beautiful countryside. He enters a property and leaves us behind.

A realisation is starting to set in, but it doesn't have time to settle because a policeman steps out of the car behind. I hadn't even noticed there was one. Are we alright? Yes, actually we are. Because although that man was inflicting Threatening Behaviour (the police man's terminology, not mine), there's probably a fairly understandable reason for his rage tonight:

He didn't get his Badger.

We made a difference tonight. You can too.