The start went well bearings on both transmitters, but it was from here that things went downhill, literally. Ken and Chris were drawn towards one of the transmitters located near Wilmslow in Style Country park. Access to this site was either from the North from Style, or from the main road on the South, west from Wilmslow. They chose the south, and found a footpath that ran down a farm track. As there was no parking space on the main road, Ken turned into the farm track and parked on the grass at the side of the track. This seemed reasonable at the time, but has given them a definite phobia about gated tracks, (read on). The transmitter came on, and a strong signal heard, so off on the bearing they went into the Bollin Valley, after much scrambling and slips, dropping George’s set, and getting to the transmitter (with the set in a non working condition as the batteries had become displaced), they returned to the car to go off to the next transmitter, but ALL was not well. Brian Bristow (a local parish councillor in High Wycombe at the time) had run across the farmer, had words, and really upset him in discussion as to the exact route of the footpath, it in fact ran right through the lake of mud at the side of the cow shed, but Brian didn’t want to get so muddy. The farmer had eventually fetched his shot gun as Brain had retreated, rather muddy. This contretemps did not do Ken & Chris’s position any good at all. When they got back to the car they found that the farmer had locked the gate at the road end of the track, driven his tractor and muck cart (filled) down the track and turned across the track behind Ken’s car, AND then tied his rather large prize bull near (if not into) the rear bumper of the car. The farmer via his son asked when we had to be out (not for the event you understand, but when we had to be back at work on the Monday following the event) and so would release us at 6AM the following day. Having eyed up the farmer and shot gun from afar, Ken and Chris decided to call for the help of the local constabulary as we were in effect being kidnapped, for only having trespassed.

In the meantime, Eric Mollart (bless his cotton socks !!) had turned up having finished the event, and stood on the path taking the now infamous video footage. Even when pleaded with Eric was more interested in his video record, than getting the police to help. Eventually the local police did arrive (‘Whot’s going on here then?’ time.) Having explained to the Sergeant out plight, he set off to the cow shed to negotiate with the gun toting farmer. After what seemed like hours, with the farmer still waving his gun about, even at the police, he sent his son to unlock the gate move the (rather bored and docile) bull, and fill the tractor with fuel and move it to effect our escape, by now long after the end of the contest. What an aggressive farmer, we had not realised but he had actually drained the tractors fuel to stop us moving it at all.

In later years Chris has passed the farm many times but NEVER ventured into the Style Woods that way , even when a transmitter was obviously in there. Sorry about the title, Cock (the gun hammer) and there was loads of Bull (and bulls**t on the cart).