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SHOOTING GAZETTE - MARCH 2005

I do not suppose that any of you want to hear about my figure, but you are going to, so there. 18 months ago, I was a fine figure of traditional English Manhood and weighed in at 20 stone 7 pounds. I was not greatly worried about this. I thought it just a natural progression. I ate moderately (I thought) and drank, as I thought, in moderation – I mean half a bottle of wine and a couple of stumping whiskies per night, seemed a very moderate consumption rate for a big framed chap like me – nothing to worry about. Then I went to see a specialist about some minor plumbing repairs, which I certainly will not bore your with. For this relief you should be thankful – who amongst you has not gone down to the village to get the papers and been buttonholed by an ancient who pins you to the wall and recounts in graphic and tedious detail the saga of his latest Op, even unto the final twist in the final turn of the Lower Intestine. This saga will inevitably contain the phrase:

“And the surgeon said to me – ‘Mr Smith in all my years of medical practice, I have never seen a twisted pot/ Ebenezer Ulcer/ impacted colon (delete whichever is not applicable) like yours’ so there now – what do you think of that?” well, none of that from me. However the Specialist did say that I was pushing on the envelope of obesity – that I would be dead by the time I was 70 (approaching fast) and that there was no way he would even get a scalpel out of a tray until I got myself down to 18 stone. Well that came as a bit of a shock and it took a large lunch at my Club and several glasses of Port to recover. Now I am on the cusp of 16 stone 10lbs (you can bloody well do your own metrication). I have had all my suits altered and my underpants keep falling down. So what, and I detect a wheedling tone from some of you, is the secret elixir that has brought this about? There ain’t one, but there is a simple formula – stoke fewer calories than you burn. Most of us, even readers of Shooting Gazette, now live sedentary lives. You must rise up, gird up your loins (those bloody underpants again) and burn those calories. Walking is a fine specific for toning both mind and body. Much of my hunting is now done on foot and I do some serious walking on the hills. Serious walking means serious equipment and most especially it means – Serious Boots. Go to your nearest outdoor equipment store and you will see rows of curious boots with more different laces than you can sake your stick at – Hiking Boots they call them. I have tried some of these monstrosities and have yet to find a pair that is worth a shite and yes, I will hill test your brand of boots for you, but will report on them without pity or mercy. For my serious walking I have reverted to the traditional Shepherding Boot. I am fortunate in having a pair that was made for me, 20 years ago, by the famous firm of Harrison and Goudie, now sadly extinct. The design of the shepherding boot is ancient, but it was designed and worn by men who walked the fells in all conditions for their living. Mine are ‘fully sprung’ which means the toe turns us like the prow of a canoe. These are best for the steep fells. Some boots are ‘semi sprung’ – the prow is not as steep. They are all leather – It used to be horse hide, but that is too scarce now – and they are heavy – mine weigh out at 3.5.lbs each, but once you get used to them, they walk themselves. It is a matter of personal choice which pattern you have – if you can find them. These wonderful boots all used to be handmade, but where are the boot makers now? They’re aal deid, I doot, I said to myself the other day. But ‘not so!’ cried a friend of mine from the Lakes – ‘I ken the folk as’ll makk a pair for ye. Wor Maister’s just had a pair off them and he’s weel taken wi’ ‘em.” So if you really want a traditional hill boot instead of all these foreign dancing pumps, here’s an address for you:

William Lennon & Co – Stoney Middleton, Hope Valley, Derbyshire, S32 4TD – TEL: 01433 630 451

They reckon he makes a grand boot and not out the way dear, either. I might give him a try myself, but I reckon that Harrison and Goudie will keep me going and (I hope) slimming for a year or two yet… wait know till I tell yees arl aboot me arthuritis…

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