After surviving a near-fatal car crash in early 2023, archer Paul Nicholson found that the support from the members of Stalybridge Archery Club not only helped him get through some of the toughest times in his recovery, but also encouraged him to look past his disabilities and head back to the range.

It’s got to be said that back in the first few weeks after the car accident that left me with a broken back, broken ribs, cracked sternum, broken nose, and a shattered right ankle, returning to archery was one of the last things on my mind. In fact, at the time I never thought I'd ever be able to walk again, never mind hold a bow – but as I slowly worked my way back towards what normal was going to be for me, I knew exactly what I'd be aiming to do with my hard-earned mobility when I got the chance.

I'd discovered archery just over a year before my accident, with my wife booking me onto an archery taster course for my birthday. I initially chose Stalybridge Archery Club because it was the closest to where I lived, but I soon discovered that it was a well-established club, founded in the 1950s, that has a long tradition of producing some very fine archers. From the off, there were just elements of the archery experience that clicked with me.

From feeling the weight of the first bow I held in my hand and the indescribably satisfying 'thunk' of my first arrow hitting a boss, I knew I was hooked. The diligence and solemnity of the coaches' first instructions, which hinted at the potential learning to be found in this ancient art turned modern sport, only added to my fascination

The concern for my welfare and desire to see me participate safely was routinely expressed through deeds, not words.

In the months since my return to archery, the kindness of the members of Stalybridge Archery Club continues, and everyone I've met, from beginner to committee members, has offered their support in their own way. Even though I'm still working hard on being able to walk normally again, I've found that focusing on achievable targets (such as the APAS outdoor awards that I’m working through) offers a wonderful distraction from my difficulties and a return to the sense of normality I had before my crash.

I've learned that when feeling normal again is all you yearn for, it's so important to have people around you who genuinely want to help you get there. Whilst most of my Stalybridge Archery Club compatriots may not realise it, their collective efforts have contributed greatly to my mental recovery as my body tries to heal as best it can. I feel lucky to have had Paul, Terry ,and everyone else at the club to help me take the next steps in my overall recovery.

And then, after quickly realising just how often my arrows ended up nowhere near where I wanted them to go, I knew that I’d found a pursuit I could really get my obsessive teeth into.

But, perhaps more than anything, it was the atmosphere and immediate sense of community that drew me in. Seeing so many people working towards their own very personal goals alongside each other made me feel like I'd found my spiritual home.

This was due in no small part to the efforts of the coaches to foster a supportive community from the outset and their willingness to support members at every level of ambition and ability. In those first months I saw how disabled members were actively supported, never once thinking that it would be me in a wheelchair soon

I saw that spirit of mutual support and the pursuit of individual progress in the months thereafter. There was equal encouragement for those who wanted to compete or for those, like me, who just wanted to develop a bit of consistency.

Perhaps then, I shouldn't have been surprised that some of my first visitors after my accident were from the club, with two long-time members, (my first coaches and generally outstanding gentlemen) Paul Carney and Terry Gregory, coming to visit me at my bedside while I lay immobile in a back brace. Always ready to laugh at life's ironies, Paul and Terry raised more than a few smiles on my battered face and kindled in me a tiny spark of an idea that, one day, I'd be back at the range.

After a slow graduation from a Zimmer frame to crutches, then from a fancy knee crutch to a titanium ankle, I returned to the club for a few tentative visits. The response was humbling. Not only was I warmly welcomed back, but the concern for my welfare and desire to see me participate safely was routinely expressed through deeds, not words. Whether it was bringing me a cup of tea, fetching my arrows, making sure I had a seat when my ankle ached, or carrying my kit while I waited for a taxi, almost every member of the club offered to help in some way. I knew I was doing okay when I was told I was taking the mick for shooting well at 20 yards and when I heard "Hurry up speedy!" as I hobbled on my one good leg to fetch my arrows, I knew I was well and truly back in the fold.

Accidents like mine can leave you feeling uncertain about who you're going to be when the dust settles, but I've found that with support and targets to focus on, it is possible to rediscover the person you feared the accident had claimed. Whilst my accident left a permanent mark on my life and mobility, my experience with this small corner of the archery community has given me faith that I'll get there.