When I was but a youngster at DF, I remember a time when I was taking part, I think in a Slade (Birmingham) National qualifier event. It must have been long ago as the memory is well faded. I had made stupendous efforts, for me at least, and got into the general area of my first TX. There was a footpath alongside a thick wood with overhanging largish Oak and Ash trees, on the other side of the path was a newly mown hay field with stacks of bales arranged around the area. The access as I remember it was up a fair run of hillside so we were fairly knackered by the time we got there. Being a novice at the time, I searched diligently around the wood, and within the wood, and got well scratched by the brambles for my efforts, but with no result. To my chagrin and great discouragement, the other that had been around had now disappeared, having found the transmitter quietly and snuck off back to their cars to go off to the other site. Where had they been I thought, and thus searched all the beaten tracks again, and again..... with no result. By now totally demoraised, and thoroughly beaten as competitors had arrived for their second transmitter, found it and flopped down exhausted in the sun, but I still had not found it..... So I went back to the car, for encouragement and a drink. George Whenham jauntily says ‘ Haven’t you found it then, Ha ha..’ , ‘***""!!!££ ‘ says I. So back up the hill again, to be shown the site...... The TX crew had put up what seemed like miles of wire around and within the wood, and led a tap from the main wire out along one of the branches of an overhanging Oak, and down into one of the stacks of hay bales, having rebuilt it to give a hide in its centre. The point was, if you stood back you could see that that stack was bigger than the rest, but didn’t contain any more bales.... My policy when confronted with fields full of hay bales nowadays, is to set fire to them closest to the woods and listen for the cries.