In the history of our species, I have noticed, many of our greatest discoveries came about as the result of a mistake or accident of some sort. Learning what I could from this phenomenon, and in an effort to further the progress of humanity, I now go around creating accidents and fomenting mistakes on purpose. Of course, some who know me personally might imply that I am making a virtue of necessity, or perhaps go as far as to suggest that I myself am an accident waiting to happen or even a mistake of some sort. I would simply reply that a genius often goes unrecognized during his lifetime. In my case, it may be several lifetimes before I am recognized for my contributions, but such is the stature of my genius. It is a heavy burden to bear which creates furrows on my weary, aging brow.

Every archer knows that arrows must have a certain configuration or they become a mockery. This I know to be true for I have experienced it many times! In the particular instance relating to this article, it happened something like this: When the primitive bug first bit me I started out using 3/8" dowel for shafting; however, after a month or two, I tired of lazy arcs and limited range. The arrows began to feel klunky and out of harmony with the bow. I decided to switch to 5/16" shafting and was soon sending happy arrows zipping across the sky. I found them to be totally satisfactory for all of my archery needs for many years. Then the pain in my hands started, symptomatic of what was recently diagnosed as rheumatoid arthritis, ouch! Anyway, as the poundage of the bows I was shooting went steadily down, I found that my arrows were once again cutting lazy paths across limited real estate. It was time for another mistake.

I had read about Indian arrowheads being configured to fit a quarter-inch shaft, which is consistent with original shafting I have seen at museums and artifact shows. After reading an article in this publication about flight-shooting, I decided to give small diameter shafts a try. I had been using 1/4" shafts on 20” bows” for some time with good results, but I shied away from using them for standard length arrows fearing an unpredictable whippiness. At any rate, I had little to lose and the possibilities stirred my imagination. I bought some 1/4" dowels, gulped some coffee, and went for it. I proceeded with the manufacturing in my usual graceless and utilitarian manner, expecting that they would soon be lost or broken anyway. Since I retired from a lengthy career as a taxidermist, I tend to avoid projects requiring the same sort of extreme attention to detail. My supply of meticulousness is nearly exhausted. I cut nocks with my small band saw, noting that the legs of the nocks ended up considerably thinner than normal shafts. After much usage they remain undamaged, so they are apparently not as fragile as they seemed at first. They do seem to represent the lower limit of normal selfnocks on average-diameter bow strings.

After completing a handful of arrows, I went to my backyard range for some tests. I expected that they would out-perform 5/16" arrows; even so, I was pleasantly surprised. From a 25# Ash flat-bow the 1/4" arrows traveled an average of 25 yards farther than the 5/16" arrows of identical length and similar density. The larger arrows lumbered their way through the sky in truncated flights, whereas the skinny arrows zipped away like their tails had been scalded. Since the bow had an elevation scale on its belly, the hold over was identical for every shot. I was trying only for a fair comparison, not for ultimate distance; the difference in cast was dramatic and conclusive. Perhaps the heavier arrows would prove their mettle in penetration tests.

For the sake of uniformity and in order to isolate the difference in shaft diameter for purposes of this test, all arrows had only fire-hardened points. Though haybales are not highly consistent in density, they were convenient. The larger arrows averaged 9" in penetration and the smaller ones, 11"; both shot from ten yards. Though not as dramatic as the difference in cast, this indicated that the smaller shafts were at least slightly superior in this application. I did not feel comfortable with the results of the hay bale tests so I changed to some scraps of plaster drywall left over from the construction of White Arrow’s Rendezvous, my shop/recording studio. Hmmmmm, I wonder if I could shoot an arrow from the bass string on my Strato-Caster? You’ll have to excuse me for such meanderings; I have this thing for strings under tension. Ha! Anyway, both arrows easily penetrated the soft rock with results mirroring the hay bale test. If nothing else, these tests prove that even light bows with proportionate arrows can perform very well. Always match the arrow to the bow, and you’ll do well. When shot from a heavier bow, a heavier arrow will carry more energy; that’s why we use them on large game, but let us not forget that penetration has as much to do with friction drag and tissue displacement as it does with foot/pounds. Smaller diameter shafting carries less energy at a given velocity but it also carries a lot less baggage in the form of friction drag and displacement of tissue.

A subsequent wind-drift test indicated that the small shafts were considerably less affected than the larger (but same density) shafts even in very strong winds (25 mph). This is actually what we should expect if we think about it: less surface area to offer wind resistance would translate into less deflection. The higher velocity would also yield less transit time for the wind to transfer energy. Makes sense to me.

If you have ever seen slow-motion footage of an arrow leaving the bow, you know how dramatic the fish-tailing, flexing yaw can be. I have no doubt that these long skinny shafts gyrate like Elvis on stage so I decided to test the long range accuracy. Some might say that me, attempting to test accuracy, would be analogous to Alfred E. Neuman administering an SAT test, but I think old “What? Me worry?” is a lot smarter than he looks. An erect 20" x 40" x 14" hay bale looks pretty small at 75 yards; it’s a very long shot for a 25# bow and 1/4" arrows, believe me. Using the elevation meter on the bow’s belly, it didn’t take long to determine the proper hold over. It also didn’t take long to discover that factors hardly worth consideration at 20 yards make a world of difference at 75 yards! Very precise weight and spine matching of arrows come to mind; these arrows had neither. Consistency of form, drawlength, and wind doping also enter markedly into the accuracy equation. At first my hit ratio was dismal, about one in twelve, but most of the misses were fairly close. After a week of casual practice, however, on one calm, nearly breathless afternoon, I managed to score six out of twelve. With regards to accuracy, I must say that I would be hard pressed to duplicate this with any combination of primitive archery tackle. It at least merits a passing nod. Go try it and you’ll see what I mean.

I did not test the effectiveness of these arrows on small game, but then, Indians did a pretty thorough job of that for a thousand years and did rather well. On the practical side I can attest that, for physically challenged archers, this can make or break your sport. It is also an easy way to perk up the cast of that lazy bow which many of us seem to inevitably produce. Better speed, cast, and penetration with less wind drift are some pretty good advantages in my book. Oh, the smaller dowels also cost less and you can even use chicken feathers for fletching!

P.S. As if the above experiments weren’t crazy enough, I had to one-up myself by trying some of the same experiments with 3/16" dowels. (I can see you rolling your eyes.) The results, however, in terms of speed were remarkable and produced a cast which averaged 15 yards farther than the 1/4" arrows using the same elevation. Penetration was difficult to evaluate because at ten yards the whippy little arrows were impacting at a marked angle due to exaggerated flexing. Very dense, stiff types of wood (think Black Palm) or perhaps laminated shafts would probably make better arrows, but I haven’t tested this yet. Archery, for all its mystery, boils down to the physics of mass, velocity, gravity, and friction. You can tweak these factors into advantages for specific purposes, but you can’t violate them, at least, not on this planet. Of course, on my planet you can simply divide the square of the arrow’s mass in plexus by the…oops, too much information.