“I cannot believe that you’d just shoot it away when you’re all done. I mean, look, you’re just shooting away something that takes this much time and work.” –Frank “I can’t believe I actually made this.” –Ulrich “Amazing that people ever went to war, given what it takes to make an arrow.” –Frank “Patience is everything.” –Julia

Imagine gateways and entrances, open terraces with traces of fresh herbs, walkways, living fences from bamboo, a dojo, privacy, frogs croaking, then silence as a snake approaches.

Outside, working in open air, the steps to making arrows seem simple. You begin by choosing your shaft. This will be determined by they type of arrow you want to make: a war arrow, a target arrow, or a presentation piece. Choices and indecision.

You look at the raw shafts. They look so pitiful, dirty, and crooked. You try hard not to shrink from the work that lies ahead. Jaap explains where to begin. Make a choice, and then open the shafts. Get the wire red hot. Hold it steady. Watch that you don’t singe the walls as you burn through the first membrane. Move on to the next and the next. Reheat the wire; it has cooled off.

Begin straightening. Use heat. Stretch the bamboo. The first heating is your only chance to make it taut.

He shows you how to use the tool to push, pull, and work the bamboo. You grasp what he says. The challenge is to translate this knowledge to your fingers. It can be easy to visualize, yet not so easy getting the fingers working the right way. Take up the straightening tool. The shafts are small, the bamboo slippery. The smoke from the charcoal brazier gets in your eyes. Heat, sunshine, concentration.

Silence. No one is talking now. Oops, too much pressure. What was crooked is becoming straight, but what was straight is now crooked. Learn to observe what happens.

Then as your fingers move in the right way, you are asked to move to the next step. Your arrow shaft is straight enough. Time to work the nodes. Use a sharp knife. You wish yours were sharper. Remember to get the angle right. Cut, shave, and slice. Work the shafts. Shine them. More straightening. Arghh, will they ever be perfectly straight? Who demands perfection anyway? How will they shoot? What now? Look, the nodes are narrowed, the skin shaved, the shaft polished.

Oh, there’s more. Nocks to insert, tips to glue, bindings to make, fletches to shave, quills to be shaved. You need to sear the edges of the quill. Ah, the smell of burning feathers. So, this is what arrow-making smells like.

He tells you all you need when attaching the fletches is a steady hand and a good eye. Good luck, you seem to have neither. The glue is drying too quickly. It’s hard to work the thread. Wait, there’s still time to straighten the fletches.

Now it is time to tie off the fletches. Patience. Keep wrapping. Turn after turn after turn. Keep your rhythm steady. Distraction shows in the finished work.

And then when you think you’re done, it’s time to trim your fletches. One slip of the scissors and you’re back to square one. Or, maybe what you really wanted all along was a flight arrow with very closely cropped fletches. Who needs wide fletches anyway. One more adjustment with the scissors and you’re done. Close your eyes while you’re cutting. No! Keep them open. Watch what you’re doing. And then, at last, victory! You stand back. You can’t believe you made this.

Author’s Note: This article draws on reflections of the participants in a bamboo arrow-making workshop held in April 2011 in Bad Durkheim, Germany. Jaap Koppedrayer of YUMI Archery ran the seminar. Fritz and Birgit Eicher graciously hosted it at their Haku-un-Kan-Kyudojo located adjacent to their residence in Bad Durkheim