Pen and Ten
By Linda Joneli, Red Rose Lofts
Take an area the size of a soccer pitch, proper football that is, onto this area put 17 lofts or cabins as they are known locally, throw into the equation teams of hardy well cared for pigeons, some of the families kept going back some 50 years, add to this a bunch of lads and lasses all with iron clad wills to win and there you have the recipe for English pigeon flying at it's best.
I decided to pen this diatribe after reading Mr.Rowlands articles on flying down in Florida on Unit 10, close proximity flying, just like on the English Pens or allotments as they are sometimes called.
Why do flyers have their lofts on pens, well in Bacup situated in the Rossendale Valley, Lancashire, which is North West England,27 miles north east from the great metropolis of Manchester, not many people have a garden big enough to support a loft. So they rent the space for their cabin. Many of these allotments and pens can be found around the former mining areas of England, Scotland and Wales, it was considered expedient in the early part of the century for the mine owners to give their employees a piece of land where they could have some sort of recreational activity in the fresh air after working a hard day or night at the coal face. Of course not all lofts, cabins, crees, coops (different area, different name) are on pens, I was fortunate enough to have a loft in my backyard about 1/4 of a mile from the Pens, but only had a mere 11 yards overfly on a 348 mile race.
To say the competition is tough on these pens is an understatement, just like Unit 10, but there the similarity ends. 99.99% of these areas do not have electricity or running water, so electronic timing is totally out of the question. Not only do you have to be a good handler but you also have to posses a high degree of manual dexterity, with maybe only 2 yards separating you from the next flyer, if you fumble putting your rubber (Countermark) in the clock you've blown it. In the "good old days" when only the rich man had a clock, the other flyers had to run with the race rubber to bell it in the rich man's clock, usually if he hadn't timed in, his door would be locked and you would have to wait to bell you bird in until he had his first bird, what a pity if yours was your Pooler. There is still an RPRA ruling which allows for time to reach the central clock. If my memory serves me correctly, it is 6 minutes per mile on foot and 3 minutes by bicycle.
Now things have improved and most flyers are using T3, STB or Benzing clocks but some guys still rely on the Toulet wind ups, the one I used was 72 years old.!!!!!!!!. I don't think ET will ever become standard in England, it would cost a small fortune to run services to the pens and many of the lads and lasses just could not afford it. In my phone conversations with these guys I get the feeling that ET would take a lot of the fun out of the sport for them, their philosophy being, if I send birds to races then I owe it to the birds to be at the loft to see him/her arrive safely and say well done lad/lass.
Training is also a joint effort, with gas being the price it is in England , approx 6 bucks a gallon, flyers take turns in taking other members birds on training tosses also they have the benefit of a trainer who calls twice a week to the Rosemount to collect the birds.
Like Unit 10, the ladies play a very big part in racing and the pigeon scene as a whole. It is not unusual to see a lady wielding a mean scraper, manning the marking table on shipping nights or even timing in, as a matter of fact, in one Midweek race last year every bird timed in was the work of the lady of the loft and in several Mr. and Mrs. partnerships the Mrs. is the flyer. The partnership of Carter and Dunn comprises 12 year old Charlotte and Grandpa Ernest and woe betide grandpa if he transgresses Charlottes strict regimen. One very smart pigeon gal!
The highlight of the old birds races is what is known as "The Brook" in other words flying from France with 88 miles of open water for the birds to cross. The Brook is better known as the English channel or as the Frenchies call it La Manche.The races start at approx 348 miles and move down to Niort which is approx. 525 miles. Now that is when the pens really come alight. When a channel bird returns and circles the pens, all handlers are on pins and issuing their usual call in signals and it is not unknown for a flyer to express his disgust by throwing water bottles and cussing when the birds traps into another loft. When these races are held over perhaps until Monday the retired members "mind" the workers pens and will sit all day with a pack of sandwiches and a thermos waiting for birds, and is usually as excited timing in for someone else as he would be timing his own bird in. It is a credit to these lads and lasses who fly from the pens, that when ace Brook Flyer, Gordon Roscoe passed away suddenly in June of 2000, a group effort ensured that his birds were flown for the rest of the season to his honor and memory.
The basketing station and center for all pigeon activities for these flyers is the Rosemount Working Men's club which is conveniently situated 20 yards from the pens and always serves a good pint of beer. The Rosie as it is known is home to several pigeon clubs, Bacup and District Flying Club, Stacksteads Flying club who are both Saturday clubs and The Valley Flying Club who basket Tuesday evenings for short Wednesday evening races The National flying Club, The North West Classic Club and The Lancashire and Yorkshire 4 Bird Championship Club also use the Rosie for Basketing and their clock station.
Saturday lunchtimes always sees the bar quite full but as soon as the birds are due, everyone will decamp pint in hand to sit out by their lofts. The club has the usual elected officials and the most important being "The Slave" who's job it is to run over to the Rosemount bar to fill empty beer glasses on long races or very hot days (about once every 10 years if they are lucky.)
I have already mentioned the fact that there is no electricity or running water to 99.99% of these pens, so whilst you guys are basking in the Florida winter sunshine, spare a thought for the Tommy Procters, Steve Brewsters and Jimmy Chrishams of this world who at times have to trudge through snow early mornings before going to work for the day, to break the water on the drinkers and feed their birds, helped only by candles or a Tilley lamp. Of course the fresh water has to be carried there also. This journey of love is repeated in the evening dark after work to clean out and feed the birds.
Do I paint a black picture, not in the least, whilst the competition is severe, the conditions taxing, the camaraderie is second to none. Many a book could be written about the after knock off "debates" over a few beers and the excuses fancier employ for not flying well, the more he drinks the wilder the excuses become, the woman next door had her laundry hanging out so they wouldn't come down. I dropped my rubber through a gap in the floor and couldn't find it. I had my red shirt on instead of my blue so they sat on he roof. That ginger tom was prowling around and frightened the birds, it goes on and on.
The gang usually meet for a Sunday lunchtime pint or three throughout the year and many a dispute or argument breaks out, usually over channel races, when the alcohol level rises, these are usually resolved by delving into the inside pockets and pulling out the Boddy and Ridewoods loft Book, these are the only records kept by the pens flyers, computer pigeon management programs are something they believe only exist on Star Trek. After many such a session, another duly elected Club Official has to step in and take some miscreant home and make sure he traps in without his "hen" knowing that he has had one pint too many.
The presentation afternoon usually follows the All Card Winners shows, that is, all birds who win a card (similar to the US Ribbons) are invited back with their birds to compete for the Best in Shows. Several Shows are run on Sunday lunchtimes and this provides may a flyer with a watertight excuse to his hen why he should go down to the Club on a freezing cold Sunday afternoon.
My lasting memory of flying in Bacup is the last race of 1998. 96 birds were sent and 96 birds came back as one huge flock, the wind was in the right direction so they passed over my loft, my 13 warriors peeling off, but boy oh boy when they hit the pens, it was like something from a Keystone cops movie. Every one made so much noise , whistling, shouting, rattling feed cans, running up and down the verandahs calling their birds in, the poor little devils circled for a good ten minutes before braving the furor and scurrying through the traps, needless to say I did very well that evening.
Of course a flyer will always remember for the rest of his/her life their first ever win. Mine came in my fourth race, beating the field by 20 minutes over a 107 mile course. The bird being a starting gift from 14 year old Warren Leyland. I can still see his mealy tail going in through the trap to this day.
At the end of the day, there is a huge bond between the guys and gals from the pens and Unit 10, although their circumstances and situations are poles apart, they are joined together, as bother and sister by the love of their birds and this wonderful sport of pigeon racing.