tby Robert H. Miller

“Not all who wander from the path are lost.”
Author unknown

The author with a 60# Ash flatbow on the left and the Ugly Stick on the right. Apparently photogenic, it is actually uglier in person.

One of the things that fascinates me about bows is the sheer variety of configurations they can assume and still get the job done. I am finding that I love pretty much everything relating to bows unless it includes fiberglass, carbon fiber, or pulleys. While I can certainly appreciate finely crafted bows of exotic materials, I seem to be more comfortable with bows that possess a lot of personality and in fact find myself becoming bored with so-called “perfection.” It takes all kinds, they say. This being the case, I have found it necessary to oduce flawed items of all sorts with some regularity, not only archery equipment, mind you, but also some of the weirdest self-built muzzle-loading firearms you have ever seen, all in an attempt to stave off boredom! I even designed and built a functional pistol whose lock has only one moving part! But, I digress, hopefully though, these disclosures may provide some frame of reference as I now attempt to describe the bows which are the subject of this article, neither of which did I find to be boring.

The older Twisted-Sister was doomed to extinction by a lapse of sanity on my part when I allowed a somewhat intoxicated compound shooter to draw it. The helpless little 50" plum bow tolerated being drawn well past 30" only a few seconds as he settled comfortably into his compound-style anchor. My breathless admonition to Ease off! was drowned out by the bow’s dramatic announcement that it just couldn’t take anymore. At least it sobered him up for a moment. This bow had not been a thing of great beauty, as evidenced by its name, but when drawn to a proportionately reasonable draw it had been a joy to shoot, and it was the only wild plum bow in my collection. In this part of Missouri, plum is very common but is usually not big enough for a standard bow without splicing; when it does grow to a larger size, it is invariably on someone else’s property. The single plum bush on our property is large enough, but the one limb that I deemed suitable for a bow now lay in two irreparable pieces.

The Ugly Stick bracked showing the basic imbalance of the limbs.

Some months after the above event, while engaged in searching for lost and delinquent arrows (a favorite and frequent past-time of mine), I noticed a limb on the plum tree that I had previously rejected as too crooked. “Well, yes, it does resemble a dog’s hind leg the way it grows around the main trunk, but it does have good length and diameter.” Within an hour the tortured piece of cellulose lay curing with the bark on in my garage. The weather was humid so I left it untended for a few weeks. When I de-barked it I found that it was approaching what I call the “wilted stage” in which the bark is still slightly moist and not brittle. While the wood has lost a fair amount of moisture content, it is considerably more pliable than it was when fresh or will be when it is completely cured. I clamped it in a large machinist vice in such a way as to squeeze down a 20 degree shallow V at the grip area to something more manageable and let it dry for a week or two before shaving the belly down and putting it in my drying box. Even though I had not been overly careful in the curing process, I did not get a single check or split on either bow. In a drier climate, however, you may need to be much more attentive for plum has a reputation for developing splits if it is dried too quickly.

Even after considerable straightening, the limb was still bad—very bad. In profile the upper half was considerably straighter than the other but had a few inches of reflex. The lower limb had several gnarly, protruding knots on the back (a hump-back!), one large enough to hang a hat on, and several inches of curving deflex. Viewed from the belly both limbs were unashamedly snaky. This was one contrary, wretched piece of wood!

I cut in nocks and strung it for tillering. What a mess! What a joke! When partially drawn it concentrated the bending force on the mid-point crook, undoing my efforts with the vise; therefore I re-clamped it and let it dry another week or two. I then installed a fitted riser/grip of oak with rawhide and yellow glue to prevent re-collapsing the bend. This actually wound up producing one of the most comfortable grips of any of my bows. I continued tillering, trying to work around the numerous small twig-knots while leaving those on the back as undisturbed as possible. If I had not wanted another plum bow so badly, I would never have attempted this one, that’s for sure. I really do like plum wood; along with Ash, Red Oak, and Osage, it has become a favorite. Eventually I had wasted about all the time and effort on this questionable project that I cared to since I expected it to be a dud at best. I cleaned it up a bit, but it was still ugly as a road-killed possum and it is mighty hard to make such a critter presentable so I just gave up. I shot it a few times. Well, it didn’t explode and it did have the energetic, hard-rubber feel of plum. That was good, but it also had more hand-shock than I cared to deal with. I tapered the last nine inches from each nock end to reduce weight and then braced it a couple of inches higher… hmmm, better!

Amazingly, it looks a bit more balanced when drawn.

I installed a wooden arrow rest with yellow glue, which I will eventually make permanent with sinew; I have never been comfortable without an arrow-rest of some sort on my bows. Many years ago I encountered a fine young savage at the knap-in at Maxdale, Texas, who had made a very nice Osage bow and arrows and he felt that it was not authentic to put an arrow rest on a primitive bow. In order to avoid scratching his hand with abrasive feather attachments, he chiseled recessed grooves and counter-sunk the entire base of each fletching in the groove. It is a clever idea and works well, but I wonder how many primitives actually did it that way. I know that they could have done it that way, but it seems more logical to make one simple arrow rest than to expend the effort to laboriously chisel all those delicate grooves with a flint tool into each and every breakable and losable arrow. But I stray from the path again.

My wretched little bow now draws a zippy 32# at 28", which is just right for me since my fingers are about as knobby and crooked (with arthritis) as the bow is. “There was a crooked man and he had a crooked bow….” It did turn out to be a very usable bow putting a proper arrow right where it should with enough zing to take small to medium game easily. With a good broadhead and a proper hit, it would probably take deer as well. Using 1/4" shafts dramatically increases its cast and speed for casual flight shooting or hunting. At about 65 inches, it is certainly less likely to break from being overdrawn than the first one. I could even shorten it a bit if I ever want to increase its pull. Though it might not be my first choice in a survival situation, this unsophisticated, un-backed stick-bow certainly has the Moxie to get the job done and would be light years better than nothing.

The bow as it appears from the front. “The was a crooked man and he had a crooked bow...“

It is, however, still ugly, and probably has halitosis and dandruff as well! Some would say that it looks like it was beat with an ugly stick, but the fact is, it is the ugly stick! It is perhaps a metaphorical match for its chiropractically challenged maker—a true expression of both his inner and outer self! Ha! Seriously, I do take considerable satisfaction from it, though pride may be too big a word. Hopefully, though, it will help me achieve my main objective here, which is to encourage those of you who have not yet ventured to make that first bow. I am hoping with this bow to make it safe for you to experiment and to not be intimidated by the flawless expertise of others. I hereby validate your right to be less than perfect and authorize you to make as many stupid mistakes as it takes to get you where you want to be and to have all the fun you can stand along the way, even if it might be ridiculous or outrageous. Behold, I, the Great White Arrow have spoken! (Ha!) Quit putting it off and just dive in!
At the very least I have replaced the loss of Twisted Sister and just possibly may have redefined the parameters determining what configurations may or may not be considered to constitute a bow. Ha! Failing this, perhaps I should just spin it as a modern work of art or the masterpiece of a reclusive forest gnome! It is definitely primitive, but if I think about that aspect very long I begin to hear the aboriginal spirit voices of our collective ancestors laughing and mocking it in languages I can only understand by intuition. “That’s okay, guys, it may be ugly, but I’ll bet you five leg sinews it will out-shoot those wretched twigs of yours… by ten paces! Decorate it first?! Oh, come on … it’s not that ugly! But…but… okay! Okay! Anybody got some feathers? Now, will you quit all that muttering and babbling and just shoot!?”