Landowners around Perridge are not very forthcoming with goodwill judging by the numbers of privacy signs in prime walking terrain, only 3mile west of the mainline railway in Exeter.
I have listened to landowners talk, I don't have to get into a confrontation, having chaired NFU meetings enough to read the signs and the evidence was clear enough when I had access to the landowners' web site through my brother-in-laws pass key. Until he realised being a member was just con.
Yes, there are a few good eggs, but they a precious few, most of the reasonable landowners I have met a relatively small owner-occupiers, who have diversified in the hospitality trade.
The record of the landowner members of the Shropshire LAF is abysmal, an iron age fort on the longest-serving member is a hill bagger's target yet, access to it would not be allowed to it in his lifetime (his words though to me sotto voce). He stopped a disused railway line being used for access that would have joined 2 market towns, claimed it was a waste of money yet, the money was being raised privately.
Between Wellington and Shrewsbury, there are several lostways that would join the two towns by a corridor of countryside, yet active CLA members actively repress access so that the way cannot be seen or understood.
Actually, if my posts over the years had been read there are many other examples of routes between transport hubs, over key infrastructure and to hidden features that would be valuable to our access network.
I know enough sympathetic farmers to know that they know that they are in a minority. If they open up controlled access limited to their holding only they will be given good press coverage, yet they will be actively discouraged from spreading it from neighbour to neighbour and it is continuity of way that is valuable. Individual farm walks have been shown to be a waste of time, look at the Defra permissive walks scheme.
As for the experience of running into landrage, perhaps I have learnt to control it. Not difficult to find when someone else tells me of it and I make a visit. When I spoke to the harridan Mrs Morris I cornered her in her own horsebox, she was as nice as pie, yet the farmer at the other end of the footpath she intimidates people into not using was in awe of her.