A bonus day in more ways than one here, as I was booked to have a nose operation in London (after being headbutted by a hunt supporter in Sussex) but the hospital rang to change the date to Thursday, so I was able to get an extra day's sabbing in.
Midweek sabs are usually far more effective as the hunt try to hunt seriously rather than avoiding sabs on a Saturday. They seem to have no trouble taking days off during the week to hunt for all the obvious reasons, but contrary to the media perception, most sabs work and can't get out during the week. Hence the Surrey Union decided in 1992 to hunt only 1 Saturday in 2!
This day was pretty wet, but I actually enjoy terrible weather like this as it keeps the cops in their vehicles! however today, there were no police on foot, only 2 mounted police. Possibly due to this, the hunt raced from the meet down private roads by Hascombe Court, to evade us. Mysteriously, when they got to the gated end of the track, they found it padlocked shut, which caused some headscratching and delay.
From here, they blocked the road as hounds drew Foxbury copse and its surrounds, which were blank so they moved off to Hydon Heath. They got close to several foxes here which all (thankfully for them) ran small circular routes, so that we could intercept their paths and spray after they had passed and rate the hounds back along the scent they had just followed (the 'heel line'). This worked brilliantly in the thick pollarded woodland, much to the frustration of the hunt.
They moved off to Hydons Ball and chased a fox through gardens and fenced off land at Hydons Ridge, the hounds getting stuck behind the fencing and taking ages to emerge. At this point, we were just the other side of some scrub, and could hear Sprake (the hunt master) moaning about the late arrival of the police he had demanded turn up. As he was whingeing away to the mounted police, a very well fed fox casually trotted along the path towards us and then hopped into the bracken and off into the distance. Talk about taking the piss! As we watched it bound over some logs, we heard the police land rover pull up, so we decided discretion was the greater part of valour, and to anticipate the hunt's next move so as not to get held up by a load of irate cops.
This situation highlighted the bullshit put out by foxhunters that draghunting is too false for them to enjoy, as any sab who attends a hunt over a period of years (or looks at the HSA's hit reports for each hunt) would see that they follow virtually the same routes with foxes running very similar lines around their territory every year. Sabs could often set the hunt a far more interesting 'course' to follow than many foxes! But then we are 'the enemy', so that would never happen.
Back to reality, and the number of foxes we saw whilst quietly keeping up with the hounds was amazing, and the hunt only got onto patchy scent except for the rhododendrons around Burgates. When they got onto a fox, as they always seem to here, I stood at the same point I usually make for when this happens, and sure enough, a big dark-red fox pegged it across the road in front of me. My only concern here was spraying and sending the hounds back the other way, so having done this to great effect, I was a bit troubled when I turned around to see the police sitting watching me! In actual fact, they were sheltering from the rain, having a cup of coffee, and their land rover was so misted up I don't think they saw what I was up to! I darted up the track to the top of Breakneck Hill just to be sure, and bumped into the huntsman and hounds who had just decided to call it a day before he ended up losing half his pack again. One of the sabs has perfected a call that the hounds can't resist, and used it all day to the embarrassment and anger of the hunt.
The small number of sabs there that day agreed how effective they had obviously been, and were far more into the idea of taking days off work in the week to get some more of this. All I had to do now was worry about my operation and 3 weeks of not sabbing - purgatory!