What does footballer-turned-actor Vinnie Jones have in common with the late Elizabeth II? A deep affection for rural Britain, certainly, but also a love embodied by one item in particular: the walking stick. How fitting then, that Vinnie should choose a beautifully crafted stick as a present for his friend and recent Country Life guest editor Sir David Beckham, who highlighted the ‘solace’ they have both found in the countryside.
A well-made stick is an object of beauty, a symbol of connection to the land from which it was plucked and, over many patient hours, refined. That symbolism becomes weightier still when it takes the form of the crozier, or shepherd’s crook, long carried by bishops on ceremonial occasions to represent pastoral care for a perpetually wayward flock. Cathedrals excepted, a wooden stick feels out of place in town or, at least, a striking style statement. In the countryside, however, there’s no finer companion to tackle uneven ground, beat down nettles, shoo errant livestock or simply rest on in contemplation.
Of course, anyone can fashion themselves a functional, instant stick from the nearest tree, but that’s very different from the piece of craftsmanship that will draw admiring comments when out and give pleasure even as it rests in the stand at home. What is it, therefore, that makes a good stick? And how can you acquire one?
Judging the shepherds crooks at the Vale of Rydal Sheepdog Trials in the Lake District.
There’s no organisation better to ask than The British Stickmakers Guild, the 800-strong membership of which is testament to the quiet passion this craft inspires. In fact, membership secretary Ian Smith reports a record recruitment year, with more than 100 new members paying their modest £18 subscription in 2025. He also emphasises the eclectic mix of ‘accountants, forensic scientists, judges, gamekeepers and farmers’ who find themselves united by this shared interest. ‘We’ll get someone who’s been on holiday in Scotland and found a few antlers that they want to make into a stick,’ remarks Ian. ‘Or a farmer whose favourite tup has died and he wants to keep its horns.’
A local shop may sell wooden sticks that pass muster for as little as £25, yet Ian gently distinguishes these ‘very rudimentary’ wares from the prize-winning examples that are his focus. ‘You’re talking £300 to £400 a stick at country-show competition level,’ he suggests. If that sounds expensive for a piece of wood, then consider the man hours alone that are involved in its enhancement. According to Ian, ‘40 to 50 hours on a stick wouldn’t go out of the way on the quality you want for a competition’. Set your heart on an intricately carved piece of ram’s horn, a woodcock head complete with painstakingly stained plumage detail or perhaps a likeness of your beloved spaniel and even that timeframe begins to look rather conservative.
'The choice of wood or design often comes down to a mix of aesthetic, pragmatic and even regional preferences'
Then, of course, there’s the minimum 12-month drying period required before the sander or jigsaw comes out. If the summer show season is when finished products go on proud display, the winter months, as sap falls and bare trees can more easily be assessed, are the time to cut wood and so begin this long process.
This is the period when stickmakers can be identified by the intent way in which they walk the landscape. A hedgerow that has been cut and laid rather than mutilated by tractor flail may provide rich pickings, as can coppiced woodland. Down by the stream, trees growing at an angle out of a bank may be carefully dug to preserve the root as a sturdy handle. There’s a special thrill to spotting a shank with the perfect length, taper and natural ‘V’ split required for a thumbstick.
Opt for a jointed rather than single-piece stick and a whole host of handle options unfurls. Yew and walnut offer a natural look with handsome grain; antlers are stylish yet hard-wearing and relatively easy to come by; ram or buffalo horn require skill to obtain and fashion, but can be particularly eye-catching.
The choice of wood or design often comes down to a mix of aesthetic, pragmatic and even regional preferences. ‘Blackthorn is popular, especially with the Irish lads,’ notes Ian. This wood’s sturdiness and rich hue is regarded by many as a perfect combination of form and function, the appearance of regularly spaced knots down the shank only adding to its character. These physical properties have long made blackthorn a favoured material for the Irish ‘shillelagh’, whose historic use as a weapon carries loaded symbolism in the national psyche. Adding still further to blackthorn’s popular mystique is this plant’s ancient Celtic association with witchcraft and — depending on which end of it you find yourself — either protection or misfortune.
Head to Scotland and the stylistic preference takes on an altogether more pastoral, ornate tone. This is where to seek out the ‘cromach’, a shepherd’s crook or tighter curled leg cleek, often crafted in horn with its functional heritage transcended by a decorative thistle and scroll design. That’s not to suggest embellishment is absent south of the border: simply admire the finely carved detail of the late Norman Tulip’s sticks, displayed at Alnwick Castle, Northumberland. In Wales, the cattle drover’s hooked Cardigan or Llandovery stick is a useful option for those who prefer a hip-height walking accessory.
As for other favoured wood choices, Ian recommends ‘ash if you can get a straight piece or holly is very strong’. He recently branched out into less traditional territory with a lightweight bamboo shank complete with resin head. By far the most popular shank choice, however, is hazel, prized for its straight shoots, ease of seasoning, strength, widespread availability and — especially when the plant grows in stressful conditions — scope for a beautiful silvery colour. ‘I have to sneak off into the woods by Windermere,’ Ian reveals. ‘In Knaresborough, where I live, the ground is too good so the trees are brown or grey, although they do grow very straight.’
Although every master stickmaker will have their own specialisms and preferences, all too often they are craftsmen first and salesmen second. A few respected names have embraced Instagram as a shop window, but otherwise would-be customers must rely either on word of mouth or strategic stalking inside a country-show tent.
Perhaps this retail reticence and often long commission waiting lists explains why a growing number of stick coveters choose to make their own. After all, you never know when you’ll need that tricky last-minute gift for a retired footballer or a member of the Royal Family.