An ex-member of our group told me that on his QXC, he became unsure of position somewhere between Bristol and Exeter, so seeing a farmer in a field, landed. He trotted over, asked where he was (farmer more than happy to help, apparently) and took off again.
Didn't occur to him that a rut in the field may take the nose wheel off or all the other risks involved. Gives him cold sweats these days.
The impetuosity of youth, I suppose