I was sitting here tonight having a glass of spring water that my good bud Eric brought me last weekend.(Thanks Eric) My old fuzzy mind started to wander to my early days of bow shooting. First, I'm older than dirt, actuallyI'm a hell of a lot older, but I know some of you are also. The first recollection of bows and arrows was when I was just about four years old. My mom would take me to the Cress 5 and dime and I would pick out one of the little bows that they would have in the boy toys section. Little hickory d bow about three feet long with splits sawed in the end for nocks and came with three suction ended arrows. I got my behind wore out a few times for shooting the dog, the cat, or grandma. Then as time went forward there came the fiberglass bows from Sears along with poc arrows. Sometimes one of the other kids would bring a lemonwood hunting bow that they acquired somewhere that was always 50 or 60 pound pull. We couldn't pull it back with our arms so we would lay on the ground with our feet at the handle and pull that sucker as far as we could. When the arrow was launched we would watch it go out of sight, then run like hell to the closest building we could find and get under the drip until the arrow came back to earth. We got wore out for that too, punching holes in the tin roofs. I'm 59 now and the bow is as still fascinating now as it was then.I was just wondering, what are the first memories you guys have of being a savage.
Oldhippy Steve