Not the horse-back way of enjoying the countryside. Not that type of hunt.
This type of hunt.
Where we meet in a field to huddle round website print-outs and scrutinise copies of an old OS map to realise we don't know what to do.
Ten minutes in, and I am learning that I cannot read a map to within eight co-ordinates and don't know where I am.
By the measure of things, I am not alone.
Never mind, we have a leader!
Leadership is of vital importance. Otherwise, within the hour, our happy band will be roaming wildly all over your weathered land; trespassing, getting lost, calling the emergency services, considering who is the fattest and can be eaten first, and generally blaming each other for starting this misadventure.
But our leader is very good, so all dangers can be avoided. Looking a bit like a Ranulph Twisleton-Wykeham-Fiennes type, he strides manfully about with the bearing of one who could wrestle a few sheep if the need arose.
Here we are, he has led us to stare into this hedge. I very much approve of this sport.
And we discover so many interesting places on our countryside trek! Would I have dared the old canal route under the bridge where someone has scrawled DIE DIE DIE. I don't think so.
This is what our leader suggests we must do as well. Crawl under footpaths into drainage channels.We do that, readily.
To you muggles, I accept this might look like we are searching for the drugs stash left last night by Skull Crusher.
Did ya get that clue, right there?
Yes, this is the most brilliant afternoon Grit has spent in a long time, and she has had a few in this home educating lark.
Thank goodness we had a leader, and I need to brush up on my shonky map skills, but I now count myself as a totally blissed out geocacher.
All there is left to do is persuade you, too. Go and treasure hunt your locality.