Time for a quick write up.
On Friday, I drove up the M6 to the A7, through some stunning scenery and arrived in good time at Border Archery on the Mellerstain Estate. 6.5 hours of travelling and almost exactly 300 miles.
The Tourist Info Centre screwed up my B&B booking (which I discovered before I went up luckily), so Sid and Anne welcomed me into their home – well, their garden; they were already overflowing with house guests – and I spent the weekend shooting, laughing eating and drinking. The weather was fine and the company excellent. I haven't enjoyed an archery tournament that much ever before.
There’s so much to tell, but I can’t possibly fit it all in here. So, I shall summarise the best things:
The people I stayed with - Sid and Anne were generous and hospitable to a fault. The other house guests and family members were great company and it seemed we were always laughing about something.
Then there were the other archers I shot with, who were helpful, friendly and supportive, even though I got some good natured stick for being the only target archer present. And my target companions on both days were immensely supportive when I wobbled my way up and down the steps of the 30-foot shooting tower on the field course, fighting vertigo all the way. And I even hit some targets from the top.
Here's the tower:
Sid Ball, incidentally, lays a mean course. I had a lot of trouble finding a good shooting position because of my height and upright target style of shooting, but that was half the fun for me.
I was also delighted to find I did better on the moving targets than most. I hit the bunny - a foam disc lobbed along the ground by a clay pigeon machine - twice when many people blanked it. I also landed 5 out of 12 shots on the javelina moving target.
On my way back on Tuesday morning, I drove down the A68 to Hadrian’s Wall and visited Vindolanda – the fort site were they found all those Roman letters and documents preserved in the soil. They also found dozens of shoes, a Roman sock (!), wigs, a leather thumb guard for an archer (which I took a picture of. Naughty John), glass, Samian ware . . . the list goes on and on. I kept standing in front of display cases agape, until someone nudged me aside so they could have a look, whereupon I stood gaping at the next case.
When I finally left I took the road that runs parallel to the wall, where I succumbed to temptation only once by stopping to see the remains of a Mithraic temple. Appropriately enough, this was in a field full of cows and some young bulls. On my way back to the gateway, I noticed a couple of young bulls watching me suspiciously. Even more alarming was the fact that the entire herd of cows seemed to have gathered near the gateway, and watched me carefully as I left. They were obviously concerned that I had ideas about starting up the cult of Mithras again. I felt their bovine eyes boring into my back, and didn’t dare look over my shoulder until I’d gained the safety of the car park.
The trip down was uneventful enough, although I was able to note that the Angel of the North doesn’t look as hideous in real life as it does in pictures. I stayed in Nottingham overnight with friends and drove back to Worcestershire the following morning.
I reckon – I hope – I made some friends for life on the weekend. Anne summed it up when I was telling her how much I had enjoyed myself. She nodded her head in agreement and said “Good company”. What more can you ask for than that?
I’ve also had something of a revelation about archery. Sid Jnr articulated it for me when he said he reckoned I was actually a field archer, not a target archer, but that I would eventually work out what and how I wanted to shoot in my own time. He’s absolutely right. I have never enjoyed a competition as much as I did that weekend. When I landed five out of twelve three arrows on the moving pig target, and when I nailed the foam disc twice in twelve attempts it felt like nothing else. It was an even better feeling than when I’ve been nailing the gold at 70 or 90 metres. And even the shots that missed - and there were a lot of those - felt good and strong.
And tonight I went to the club with my target set up and realised how boring I find target shooting now. I literally didn't care whether my shots were good or not. I think I really need a change. I won't dump all my target gear immediately, but I'm definitely going to switch to barebow as of now. I've ordered some suitable arrows and will be contacting Border when they get back from their summer holidays to talk about getting a Black Douglas.
I’ll probably shoot my target bow once or twice a month, but I want to rediscover archery for myself and I reckon this is the way to do it. Maybe I am a field archer. Maybe not. We'll see.