George,
Man you ain't see nothing. As far as flame fests goes this was.... well about like a sparker. I consider you a friend and mentor George. Ain't no tellin the number of wanderers you've brung to the fold.
Wood bowyery ain't about a bow, it's a lifestyle. That's why I hate, although that's too strong a word, comparing a self bow to a glass bow, in terms of cast or whatever. It's like saying Micheal Jordan is a really fast runner. It misses the whole point. The glass bow has it's merits, and master's certainly have had their hand in it. But a glass bow is dead. A wooden bow is alive in every since, moody like a women, high maintanence, but loyal and warm like a dawg. Ideally it enjoys an immortality in memories of the bowyer. I honestly wonder what's become of some of my babies. Any of you nare do wells that's got one let me know, even if they've run off with a cousin or something unsavory like that.