"Pyecombe's blooming marvellous
for golfers"
One hundred and six years old and more attractive than ever.
That is the verdict on Pyecombe where the membership is full without
a waiting list. The seven-day male membership of 330 out of a gross
550, were far-sighted enough to secure their stake in a club that
prides itself on good housekeeping and equally good fellowship.
For the visitor there is a warm welcome followed by an explanation
for those seeking a buggy that four-wheeled transport is not on
offer. The reason is not hard to find: Pyecombe, being typical Downland,
is laid out on two rolling ridges and in the valley between.
Some of the inclines call for a more powerful vehicle than the
standard golf cart and when a feasibility test was conducted some
years ago the experience was more akin to driving a tank over an
army training area. Wisely, the committee decided against the risk
of accidents and possibly horrendous insurance claims.
But the terrain should not deter the determined golfer who will
find all manner of delights during spring and summer. The flora
and fauna alone is a sheer delight. Wild orchids may be seen while
silver birch, oak and hawthorn speckle a diverting landscape inhabited
by kestrels, green woodpeckers, badgers, stoats and shy deer. It
is like being a'top a very special all-green world and without any
sound except those of the countryside and maybe the odd sigh as
a putt refuses to drop.
Pyecombe is sheer, unadulterated pleasure as those grand old golfers
who set the ball rolling at the inaugural meeting in the Plough
Inn, envisaged in 1894. Then the hamlet was famed for shepherd's
crooks, the smithy and pub overlooking the dusty London-Brighton
road.
When golf was first played there the course was two miles from
Hassocks station otherwise bicycle and pony and trap afforded the
best way of getting there. Mindful of the rural setting, a conveyance
was laid on between station and club for a bob a head on Saturdays.
And while the men enjoyed themselves, ladies had their own nine-hole
course.
Nothing came of an idea for a railway station immediately south
of Clayton tunnel, but to this day visitors are intrigued by the
circular brick structure close to the first tee. It is one of 11
ventilating shafts of the 2,266 yard tunnel and an engineering masterpiece.
But, in 1861, two trains crashed 200 feet below the meadows with
a death toll of 23 and 176 injured.
When Pyecombe was founded, only Royal Eastbourne, Brighton &
Hove, Seaford, Royal Ashdown Forest, Copthorne, Bognor, Goodwood,
East Brighton and Holtye were established.
In the 106 years there have been very few competitive feathers
in Pyecombe's cap until last month when six of the seniors banded
successfully to win the Cyril Blake Cup for the county inter-club
knockout. Beating The Nevill was no mean achievement after accounting
for Piltdown, Cowdray Park, Copthorne, Mannings Heath and then removing
Royal Ashdown Forest, last year's winners, in the semi-final.
Non-playing captain John Slater could not speak highly enough of
his team comprising Brian Raison, John Richardson, Alan Smith, Ken
Wenham, Ken Barnard and Reg Auchterlonie. Their golf, like that
of others, has been honed on stern demands over the years.
While at 6,278 yards Pyecombe may not be considered long in the
light of modern equipment, one can all too easily come to grief.
The course has been considerably lengthened over the years although
it was already a test for the strongest lungs. From the very first
hole the way is up and it is not until the third that a stunning
panorama is revealed.
A nice touch is that all the holes are named and The Switchback
(third) plays much longer than its 426 yards. Apart from the 543yard
14th (stroke index 1), it is probably the most challenging hole
on the course.
On the way round make time to take in the views as the Sussex Weald
unfolds in great splendour. You won't be alone as the South Downs
Way skirts one boundary, and, to the north, are the famous windmills,
Jack and Jill. These are just a field away from the 16th tee. Henry
Longhurst, who lived in the house between them, was fittingly club
president.
His last game, before giving up golf, was a mixed foursomes at
the club he loved so much. Indeed, Pyecombe is a lovable club. The
cosy clubhouse recalls a hill station bungalow in Simla. If, in
the heat of summer there was a punka-wallah operating the fan with
a single toe, I shouldn't be surprised.
That might not have been all that strange between the wars when
the club paid only 10 guineas a year by way of a peppercorn leasing
arrangement to the Crown Commissioners. But, in April 1942, the
land was taken over by the military and was not de-requisitioned
until four years later. It took another year before the army thought
they had cleared away the last of their junk.
The Canadians, or more precisely, Princess Patricia's Light Infantry,
used the old clubhouse as a Sergeant's Mess. Live firing went on
and 40 years later two loaded Bren gun magazines were discovered
in thick bushes near the eighth tee. Pyecombe received just under
£7,000 compensation from the War Office and for some years
now have been their own masters.
Every hole has something to offer, some more than others. A constant
search for improvement has meant changes to the last three holes.
But, in 1990, heavy rain compelled a change to the cockpit or green
at The Pond (10th) hole. Soil washed down from fields to the east
when an estimated 654 tons spilled onto the course leaving a trail
of debris 15ft wide. The cockpit bore the brunt and the answer was
converting it into a water feature and building an entirely new
green.
For the golfer who likes to vary the scene, Pyecombe offers something
old, something new. Don't be surprised if you are asked for a handicap
certificate. It is not a cast iron rule, but the pro, Chris White,
or Secretary Ian Bradbery, has the right to refuse. Pyecombe are
in order guarding their treasure where good manners have prevailed
for over a century.
In those early days wire fences were crossed only by wooden styles.
Caddies for ladies had to turn their backs when females negotiated
the obstacles in case they should catch a sight of too much leg. |
