So not strictly stalking but I have been asked a few times about this photo, the full story, so I decided to put it down in writing as some might be interested although it’s a long tale, so please bare with me..
Back in my distant past, more years ago than I care to remember I courted a lass from a rather wealthy family and one day she invited me to dinner at her parents’ home. A bit like a love struck puppy I obliged and met her there at the correct time.
As it turned out i had nothing to fear, in fact the evening was to be of great benefit to myself but also the ultimate demise of the relationship.
One of the other guests was an older lady and I was introduced to her as simply Patricia. During our conversations it was noted that I enjoyed shooting and I was informed that she enjoyed it too.
A week or so went past and I received a letter from this woman asking me if I wished to shoot some pigeons in her garden. I jumped at the chance, replied and turned up the following weekend. It turned out to be a ploy!
She simply wanted to weigh me up.
Long story short I went shooting those Pigeons all summer and then the real surprise, she invited me partridge shooting!!!!! Well in the first week of September I was stood at my peg on a shoot not far from Mansfield, Nottinghamshire, called Blidworth Bottom, Patricia was at my side guiding me and I must say I needed guidance as these were English partridge bursting over hedgerows.
I found the whole thing overwhelming but enjoyable and was delighted but apprehensive when she said I would be invited again. This invite arrived by post and the shoot was two weeks later in Ticknall Derbyshire.
Same as the last time, she was there and guided me well and I managed to shoot better, nerves were settled better.
On the way home she said “ You know you could have as much shooting like this as you like, but you are held back.” Well I responded with how do you mean and I got “ You are let down by your looks and jeans and tea shirts don’t cut well in the shooting field. I explained that on my mere wages I could not possibly afford to by shooting cloths like those worn by the other guns and the matter was left at that.
Over the next while I pondered and cursed and thought I had blown it. But then another letter arrived asking me to go to afternoon tea on the Saturday, which I did.
She asked me to listen to her and I did and her words are as fresh in my mind as the day it happened. “ So, from the moment shooting and hunting was mentioned I saw the fire in your eyes, it was as plain to see as in a terrier with rats!, I recognised it as it’s something I have suffered with most of my life.. If you wish to further your shooting carrier, I am willing to help, but you have to listen to me” She went on to explain that she was in fact the wife of Arthur Strutt, baron of Belper, land owner etc. She let me know that they owned estates in Scotland, Cumberland and Derbyshire, shooting in north riding of Yorkshire, Nottinghamshire and Hampshire. I was later to find out they had huge land holdings all over the UK and other countries as well.
She informed me that her husband was once a truly great game shot but no more and she was happy for me to shoot in his place! And it all worked on invites, She held shoots on their land and the guns invited them in return. It was at this point that I was informed she did not really shoot, but she was an active stalker!
Then the question” so do you want to carry on” yes was my reply. Good arrive here on Saturday morning at 8am and we are going shopping.
Long story short I was taken to Bakewell Derbyshire, where I was fitted for a shooting suit and all accessories, paid for by her own cheque account.
Again long story short I shot 30 days that season and and nearly sixty the following! All this shooting cost me dearly, I lost a lot, work, relationship etc It was the year of sixty days that a remarkable thing happened.
We had had a great day on grouse in the heart of the north Yorkshire moors and we were lounging on our day off, when I was asked by the keeper if I wanted some more practice, obvious answer saw me walking the edges of some moors with a brace of pointers. I was tasked with shooting the first birds to rise on each point in the hope of cleansing the moor of old barren birds. I ended the day with a bag of 10 ½ brace.
Well water has flowed under the bridge for many moons and in the year 2000 Patricia died.
She was never far from my mind, how could she be, but I lived in the far north of Scotland and mixed in different circles.
Then in 2012 a strange thing happened, I was asked by a good friend if i could put my feelers out for a day or two grouse shooting and I did just that. I was pointed in the direction of that very same moor in Yorkshire now owned by another family.
It was arranged and my friends went, I did not as I actually travelled to Windsor to get married! And then on a two month tour of eastern Europe.
However The following year saw us all in Yorkshire for two days 50/50 walk up and driven.
Whilst we were lunching with our hosts, I told the story about my single handed walk up on the estate many years ago and I wished to repeat it for myself and in memory of Patricia. I was informed that it could be made possible if I used my own dogs.
So the following season a fortnight was arranged in Yorkshire for a general holiday and shooting sport.
One of the days saw me out on my own with my two GSP dogs walking the same places on the edges of moors shooting old birds. I had a truly magical day, shooting great birds, toasting Patricia on the moors she introduced me to. The result was a magic 16 ½ brace.
We had a great few days shooting and socialising and all because an old lady saw fire in my eyes and took the time to introduce me to driven bird shooting and stalking highland stags, but that as they say is another tale.
Back in my distant past, more years ago than I care to remember I courted a lass from a rather wealthy family and one day she invited me to dinner at her parents’ home. A bit like a love struck puppy I obliged and met her there at the correct time.
As it turned out i had nothing to fear, in fact the evening was to be of great benefit to myself but also the ultimate demise of the relationship.
One of the other guests was an older lady and I was introduced to her as simply Patricia. During our conversations it was noted that I enjoyed shooting and I was informed that she enjoyed it too.
A week or so went past and I received a letter from this woman asking me if I wished to shoot some pigeons in her garden. I jumped at the chance, replied and turned up the following weekend. It turned out to be a ploy!
She simply wanted to weigh me up.
Long story short I went shooting those Pigeons all summer and then the real surprise, she invited me partridge shooting!!!!! Well in the first week of September I was stood at my peg on a shoot not far from Mansfield, Nottinghamshire, called Blidworth Bottom, Patricia was at my side guiding me and I must say I needed guidance as these were English partridge bursting over hedgerows.
I found the whole thing overwhelming but enjoyable and was delighted but apprehensive when she said I would be invited again. This invite arrived by post and the shoot was two weeks later in Ticknall Derbyshire.
Same as the last time, she was there and guided me well and I managed to shoot better, nerves were settled better.
On the way home she said “ You know you could have as much shooting like this as you like, but you are held back.” Well I responded with how do you mean and I got “ You are let down by your looks and jeans and tea shirts don’t cut well in the shooting field. I explained that on my mere wages I could not possibly afford to by shooting cloths like those worn by the other guns and the matter was left at that.
Over the next while I pondered and cursed and thought I had blown it. But then another letter arrived asking me to go to afternoon tea on the Saturday, which I did.
She asked me to listen to her and I did and her words are as fresh in my mind as the day it happened. “ So, from the moment shooting and hunting was mentioned I saw the fire in your eyes, it was as plain to see as in a terrier with rats!, I recognised it as it’s something I have suffered with most of my life.. If you wish to further your shooting carrier, I am willing to help, but you have to listen to me” She went on to explain that she was in fact the wife of Arthur Strutt, baron of Belper, land owner etc. She let me know that they owned estates in Scotland, Cumberland and Derbyshire, shooting in north riding of Yorkshire, Nottinghamshire and Hampshire. I was later to find out they had huge land holdings all over the UK and other countries as well.
She informed me that her husband was once a truly great game shot but no more and she was happy for me to shoot in his place! And it all worked on invites, She held shoots on their land and the guns invited them in return. It was at this point that I was informed she did not really shoot, but she was an active stalker!
Then the question” so do you want to carry on” yes was my reply. Good arrive here on Saturday morning at 8am and we are going shopping.
Long story short I was taken to Bakewell Derbyshire, where I was fitted for a shooting suit and all accessories, paid for by her own cheque account.
Again long story short I shot 30 days that season and and nearly sixty the following! All this shooting cost me dearly, I lost a lot, work, relationship etc It was the year of sixty days that a remarkable thing happened.
We had had a great day on grouse in the heart of the north Yorkshire moors and we were lounging on our day off, when I was asked by the keeper if I wanted some more practice, obvious answer saw me walking the edges of some moors with a brace of pointers. I was tasked with shooting the first birds to rise on each point in the hope of cleansing the moor of old barren birds. I ended the day with a bag of 10 ½ brace.
Well water has flowed under the bridge for many moons and in the year 2000 Patricia died.
She was never far from my mind, how could she be, but I lived in the far north of Scotland and mixed in different circles.
Then in 2012 a strange thing happened, I was asked by a good friend if i could put my feelers out for a day or two grouse shooting and I did just that. I was pointed in the direction of that very same moor in Yorkshire now owned by another family.
It was arranged and my friends went, I did not as I actually travelled to Windsor to get married! And then on a two month tour of eastern Europe.
However The following year saw us all in Yorkshire for two days 50/50 walk up and driven.
Whilst we were lunching with our hosts, I told the story about my single handed walk up on the estate many years ago and I wished to repeat it for myself and in memory of Patricia. I was informed that it could be made possible if I used my own dogs.
So the following season a fortnight was arranged in Yorkshire for a general holiday and shooting sport.
One of the days saw me out on my own with my two GSP dogs walking the same places on the edges of moors shooting old birds. I had a truly magical day, shooting great birds, toasting Patricia on the moors she introduced me to. The result was a magic 16 ½ brace.
We had a great few days shooting and socialising and all because an old lady saw fire in my eyes and took the time to introduce me to driven bird shooting and stalking highland stags, but that as they say is another tale.
