Match Stick

When it comes to Rural Strides, the brand is me—Malinka. In the countryside, you can’t miss me. I’m the one walking along in a scarf and gilet (yes, even in summer), a baseball cap, sunglasses, and, in winter, a bright purple coat. I’m also always accompanied by two walking poles, which I rely on for stability through thick mud and on slippery chalk slopes. In summer, they’re just as handy for fending off brambles and nettles.

Practical as they are, though, there’s no escaping the fact that modern walking poles prioritise function over flair. When buying a pair, your choice revolves around weight, grip, and foldability—aesthetics doesn’t come into it. Contrast that with traditional wooden walking sticks, where each piece is unique, shaped by nature and craftmanship. To understand more about these beautiful pieces of walking heritage I recently had a fascinating chat with Mike Rankin, a member of the British Stickmakers Guild.

Mike, who lives in Wisborough Green near Petworth, is a relative newcomer to stick making, with just six years of experience, but he’s clearly a fast learner. Despite his short time in the craft, he has already won accolades in national walking stick competitions. A retired mechanical engineer, he fell upon stick making by chance after a meeting with seasoned craftsmen at the Amberley Rural Life Museum.

The best way to understand walking sticks is to hold them—to feel their weight, texture, and balance. They are deeply tactile objects, each with its own character. Fortunately, Mike has an impressive collection, both crafted and acquired, so we spent a good while uncovering the story behind each one.

I first admired the wooden shafts. Some were beautifully mottled, their patterns formed by lichen once blocking the light to the branch. Others bore the elegant twists of wild honeysuckle’s embrace or the scars of former thorns. Yet, despite their natural quirks, every stick was flawlessly straight—the result of careful steaming and straightening. I found myself captivated by each one in turn, and we had barely begun.

Getting a feel for sticks

What struck me most, though, was how they felt. Even as I write this now, I can still recall their weight in my hands—the way the different woods had very different densities, something you do not imagine from looking at a tree. As I gently tested Mike’s collection, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being in Ollivander’s wand shop in Harry Potter, waiting for the perfect walking stick to choose me, rather than the other way around.

After weighing up the various shafts, it was time to explore their even more diverse handles. Remarkably, some sticks were crafted from a single piece of wood, while the tops of others were shaped from a different piece of wood, polished horn, antler, or even metal. Their forms weren’t just aesthetic; each handle’s shape and size reflected its function and determined the stick’s name too.

Among the functional, dress and novelty sticks there were Crooks, Market Sticks, Brighton Walkers, Derby and Cardigan Sticks as well as a Tippling, Sword and Fritz Stick to name just a few.  The variety was clearly endless—a world of craftsmanship where tradition meets individuality. Given the choice I began to wonder if I’d ever be able to make up my mind.

Choosing the right-sized stick is clearly essential. Many of Mike’s sticks lack the final ferrule at the bottom, a deliberate choice that allows them to be cut to the perfect length for the buyer. However, getting the right fit isn’t as simple as it sounds. As much as your own size, it also depends on how you plan to hold and use the stick—something that I found surprisingly tricky to figure out. Unlike the purely functional stance with walking poles, a walking stick invites a whole range of postures. Mastering the art of carrying one felt like learning an entirely new skill—one with a touch more style and flair. I invited Mike to pose with his stick rather than asking him to take one of me looking a little awkward.

A new accessory?

As I handled and admired each stick, I couldn’t help but wonder—should I trade in my functional poles for a traditional walking stick grown and crafted right here in the Western Weald? What better branding could there be for a walk leader promoting this area? The answer, I think, is yes… though perhaps in tandem with my trusty walking poles. I do love the rhythm and balance of using two poles—and let’s be honest, whoever saw someone walking with two traditional sticks!

So, which stick will I choose? Well, in true Harry Potter wand fashion, one wood did immediately feel right in my hand—Blackthorn. Compared to the others, it stood out as remarkably light yet incredibly strong. Its dark, textured shaft also set it apart. As for the style? That’s a decision that might take me until Christmas to settle—convenient, since I may need to put in a request with Father Christmas.

Blackthorn’s dense, thorny growth makes it notoriously difficult to source for sticks. It is therefore among the most expensive walking sticks on the market. But for the perfect walking companion and Western Weald brand ambassador, I’d hope it’s worth every penny.