Some 20 years back i used to commute on a route that took me up through Cirencester cross country. Lovely countryside but if you timed the run slightly wrong you came a cropper with a farmer who would move his milkers from the fields to the farm to be milked. The process of getting the cows from field to parlour was a 20 minute ordeal, sat there whilst he wrangled the last stragglers who always found a tasty patch of hedge to nibble on and refused to budge. On a bad day you got caught both ways. I swear he'd mix times up just to catch you out.