 It was winter in the land of the People. Snow lay deep in
the higher hollows, and the wind howled ferociously from the north, scouring
and shaking the mountain peaks with icy gusts. In the sheltered river
valley where the village of the People was situated, conditions were
less severe, but the land was still held firmly in the frigid grip of
the cold. >> Read
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When you arrive at the Tennessee Classic, near Clarksville,
Tennessee, you drive down into a beautiful wooded valley with ample camping
space, three sets of 3-D targets, vendors with archery equipment, and
a rather amazing central core of workshops. For myself, the extensive
workshop area for making bows and flintknapping was the main reason I
came to the event.
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Two message threads emerged–one for the North and one for the South–so the craftsmen and the Primitive Archer community could monitor the work and provide feedback and encouragement in this good-natured "war between the bowyers". Pat Brennan started the thread on January 18, 2007, with the clarion call: “OK all you Yankee bas...you guys from up north. This is your thread.”
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 If you’ve stopped here expecting to read a first-hand account about my trailing the Mother of all Whitetails with trusty bow and arrow in hand, or how I crafted a prize-winning primitive bow from a gnarled and twisted piece of worm-holed driftwood, you’ve turned to the wrong page. Yes, this is a yarn about me on a trail, of sorts, with bow and arrow, all right. And it will detail the making of a fine, handcrafted bow by a true master bowyer. Only the trail is one of discovery, and that little ol’ bowmaker isn’t me. Maybe I should explain.
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