First, let me say, I am no bad-a$$, tough guy. When that pic was taken, I was 5'10", and about a buck and a half, since then I have lost a little altitude, gained a little latitude, but still, pretty much, have the same attitude. I am very opinionated, but when it comes to archery, I try to maintain the good natured banter and give and take you might experience with Confound shooters at the local range, besides, I'm outnumbered about 60:1, Hah! Reminds me of a time at our archery club. A big fellow was asking about my equipment, asked if he could draw my bow, always willing to share in the promotion of traditional archery, have at it says I. Well, as expected, he got it back to around the sixty pound range and gave up the ghost. Maybe a little embarrassed, I don't know, he was considerably larger than me, anyway, he starts going on about that, You must be some kind of bad-a$$, bet you don't have any trouble at the local saloon, etc. stuff. Honestly I wasn't sure where this was all going, so I looked him in the eye, smiled and with as much humility as I could intone, said, well I don't know about all that tough guy, bar fighting stuff, but I could probably pull your arm off! Got a lot of laughs all around. That's the way I like it!
When I started out, I had a love for the sport and no guidance, so I went to the local library and happened upon a copy of "Hunting With the Bow and Arrow" by Saxton pope. That has been the single most influential thing in forming my opinions and taking the directions I have taken in this sport. I have my own copy, and still, to this day, reread portions of that book every year.
About that hunt, It was a cold, grey day at Lambo Field, oh, wrong venue, sorry. I was in a stalking kind of mood that day, hence the boots. Those are Bean, Maine guide boots, they have the soft gum rubber soles to keep the feet dry, grip pretty good, and are thin enough so I can feel what's under my feet, so I don't put full weight on anything that might snap, the leather uppers tend to deflect weed and prickers without any loud scraping sound you might get from fabric. I don't wear camo, easy now, I'm not saying anyone else should or shouldn't, for me, I don't want to feel like I'm making war on these poor creatures, I just want to kill them and eat them, and use some of their body parts to make better equipment, so that I might do a better job in the killing part. The broad brim hat provides a shade and shadow to the eyes for better viewing, and the band gives a place to stick pieces of weed and such, I also use a bit of burnt cork on the face, well, I guess I do use camouflage, It just doesn't have buttons and zippers Hah! I was hunting a fairly large area adjacent to a woods full of oaks and beech, but hard to hunt on the ground in, because there isn't much under growth, pretty open. Filled with game trails, the area I'm in is goldenrod and such, shin to chest high, broken up by sizable clumps of osier, sumac, and some widely dispersed poplar and other entry level trees. I'm moving little, looking a lot, trying to see them first and make a plan to close with. The deer pictured is the only deer I saw that day, and he pretty much marched in at about thirty yards during one of my, looking a lot, phases. He stopped and was looking behind him and I though there might be a bigger fellow on the way, so I lower myself down at woods speed, thats what I call my movements while stalking, I try to move no faster than the air is moving the environment around me. I'm pretty much a meat hunter, but I still become a bit unhinged at the sight of a nice buck. I figured the buck at hand was better than the one that might be in the bush, so I rise up, draw, Think, and release, The arrow had a good line, but sailed over him, He didn't react much, about as much as you might react if a swallow swooped by your head unexpectedly, I'm not too surprised, I spend a lot of time twisting my string in and out tuning the bow and shooting with my eyes closed, trying to get it as quiet as possible. I'm already back down and chastising myself for thinking too much, I mean, what's all that practice for, other than the pure enjoyment of shooting, Its so when that moment comes, everything just flows along its natural line. I nock-up, completely erase any vestige of what just happened, rock up, draw, anchor and release. It was what I think the Japanese call moo-shin, no mindedness, I knew before the arrow had cleared the bow, it was the perfect shot, every muscle, eye, hands, bow and arrow, were in perfect concert, I watched the arrow all the way in, heard that familiar sound, and knew he was mine now. He bolted, not wildly so, but with the definite mind set, that anywhere but here, is probably a better place to be. I don't think he went more than fifty yards, and the trail was what you would expect from a double lunger. I didn't wait, I recovered my arrow, and went right to him.
I made my peace with the animal, and gave thanks to our creator, That is important.
That's pretty much it, an average guy, doing what comes natural, more often than not, coming home empty handed, that day I was successful, but even if I had come home empty handed, I think I would still felt I had achieved some measure of success. God bless!
Robby
