Article I published in local Rod and Gun Magazine
You mean guys lke this....
I was prepping for a local hunt in a tract of woods that I had permission to hunt. I discussed the hunt with a friend of mine, whom Ill dub Ooops. Ooops fancied himself a great archer and begged to go with me. I was hesitant, but reluctantly agreed because Ooops has a bad leg and I would have to carry all of his gear, help him set up and walk at a painfully slow pace while he lumbered with his crutch behind me. But Ooops was a good friend so I felt obliged. I planned on hunting the following weekend and Ooops wanted to meet at my rod and gun club and do some Serious shooting. He had picked up a new bow and was eager to try it out. I agreed figuring this would be a good time to see if my friend was as good a shot as he claimed. Also, I had never seen a bow as expensive as the bow he had purchased.
Well, that weekend Ooops and I found ourselves at the archery range and he showed me the bow he had purchased, along with several others he had in, what was visually, a most impressive collection. The comedy of errors started immediately when Ooops tried to string up his bow. This is a relatively simple, painless process, but Ooops managed to struggle for several minutes; blaming his stringing tool, the bow itself but never his own incompetence. I strung Ooopss bows and then strung my own. We were now ready to shoot. I picked a target at twenty yards, drew back and let my arrow fly. I hit the third circle of the target. Not great, but it would still be considered a killing shot. Ooops began telling me that my form was wrong and that my release of the arrow was shaky. I nodded, smiled and waited as he prepared to take his shot. Ooops drew back and let fly, his arrow sailed over the target and about four feet to the left, disappearing in the woodland borders of the target range.
Gotta get used to this bow, man its fast. Ooops observed as he prepared to shoot again. His second shot was the right altitude, and would have hit the backstop if it wasnt so far left of everything. Again, this was another arrow that would have to be shanked from the woods. I stepped away from Ooops and decided I would be better off and safer if I shot at a different target, far away from Ooops and his expert marksmanship. I moved about ten yards away and shot at a different target. I took another dozen shots with my trusty bow and was pleased to see that there wasnt as much rust on my limited skills as I had anticipated. Each arrow found the eight inch circular target at twenty yards. They were not all dead center, but each shot would have produced a clean kill, the goal of every serious hunter. I prepared to pull my arrows from the target and continue when I glanced over at Ooops. Things were not going well.
You okay there, Ooops? I asked.
I dont know, this bow doesnt shoot right. Ooops replied.
Let me see. I replied making my way over to check out this $800.00 marvel.
I examined the bow carefully and it was really a thing of beauty. The Zebra wood was beautifully shaped and crafted. The black fiberglass overlays in the handle were nothing short of a true work or art.
May I? I asked gesturing towards my target.
Ooops nodded and I brought the bow over to my target and pulled three arrows from the target I had been shooting at. I knocked an arrow and took aim. like the whistling wind, this bow literally shot the arrow into the air. I was stunned at the speed this little beauty possessed. My arrow landed dead center on the target. OK, I thought that was just a freak shot. But I repeated the same shot with similar results two more times. The shots were not perfectly centered, but they grouped much tighter then the arrows I had shot from my bow. I glanced over at Ooops.
What we have here, Ooops, is a case of operator error. I announced lightheartedly.
Ooops looked at me funny before he realized what I was saying. He hobbled over and took the bow from me and shot again. This arrow went clear over the thirty yard target and sailed deep into the woods. There would be no way wed ever find that sucker.
What the hell are you doing, Ooops? I asked amazed. You told me you were a crack shot. I said in a light yet jibing tone.
Ooops was frustrated, still convinced it was the bow and not his skill with the bow. So, he picked up another bow as I went to find as many of his arrows as I could and pull the rest of mine free.
Bottom line, Ooops shot all four of his bows and lost nine of his fifteen arrows that afternoon. To be fair, he did manage to hit the target backstops and actually hit a few of the 8 inch targets at twenty yards. But, anything beyond twenty yards was just a nightmare. Ooops and I went out to dinner that night and we discussed his less than stellar performance. I told him that I was uncomfortable with him shooting at a deer based on what I saw today. Ooops said that it was just a bad day and that he was going to send the bow back to the manufacturer and get his money refunded; I simply bit my tongue and said nothing.
He said he was all set for our hunt and looking forward to it. I was hesitant about taking him and carrying his huge blind and other hunting gear. I decided Id set him up in a spot where I knew thered be little to no chance of him ever seeing a deer. Well, the day of our hunt finally arrived and we were off in the woods prior to sunrise. I was overloaded with gear, plus I had to carry a huge light to shine the way for Ooops as he hobbled along on his crutch. I spent an hour in the dark setting up Ooops huge hunting blind, seat and other stuff before I set out to the spot where I had put up a tree stand earlier in the month.
I climbed up into my stand about an hour after sunrise and prepared myself for the hunt, hoping that Ooops would have no luck and praying that the spot would be as barren as it had been for the past four years. I could just imagine him shooting a deer in the leg or front quarter. The animal would be injured and suffer needlessly. The poor thing would survive, in pain, until the winter, and then be hunted down by the coyotes. After about an hour of beating myself up mentally for taking him into the woods I spotted a small buck making his way toward me. I prepared myself for a killing shot. As the deer approached, something caused it to slam on the brakes. Even from my elevated position I could see its nostrils flaring. It had picked up a strange scent. I was high enough above the deer so I knew it wasnt me. Plus, I had a high quality cover scent to mask my presence. Something spooked the animal and he disappeared back into the woods the same way he had come. I sat in that tree for another two hours frustrated and angry at myself for letting Ooops talk me into taking him hunting. I believed he was a better shot than he displayed based on his word but somehow I doubted it. Reluctantly I climbed down and headed back toward Ooops blind. As I approached, I could smell the stench of cigar smoke. As I got closer, I could see little puffs of smoke coming from the shooting vents in his blind.
Hey! Ooops! I called out.
Several seconds later Ooops emerged with a cigar in his mouth and a steaming mug of some heated beverage which I discovered was hot chocolate with raspberry flavoring. I peeked into Ooops blind and there were food wrappers littering the ground and a spot in the Earth that he had used to dispose of at least three of his expensive imported cigars during the morning. I shook my head in disgust. I didnt yell, I didnt swear. I simply said that it was time to go. I told him to leave the blind and Id get it later. Ooops lit up another cigar and we were on our way. He told me how disappointed he was that he didnt see any deer. I said nothing but simply nodded as we headed back. Besides, its the thought that counts and my thoughts were nasty and brutal. I was glad Ooops was more interested in sitting down puffing away on cigars all morning; Im confident the deer felt the same way. The only person suffering at all today was me.
Ooops was happy though, he had been in the woods, he could now say he went hunting, that he spent time in the woods and Hunted. Im sure his hi society friends would be impressed. Whatever, I learned that not everybody belongs in the woods or hunting for that matter. Ooops was better off reading his hunting magazines, spending his money on bows hed never be able to shoot and talking about the woods and hunting rather than going hunting. As long as he didnt want to go hunting with me Id certainly be happy and our friendship could continue. Ooops offered to buy me a late breakfast, but I just wanted to get home. We parted company and at least he left happy and fulfilled. Looking back now it doesnt seem like that much of a sacrifice to make somebody happy.
I went home that morning, picked up the phone and called the bowyer that crafted Ooops bow. The man I spoke with was very happy to unload Ooops bow to me for $500.00 and I was very happy to take it. The bowyer was upset because no one had ever questioned the quality and workmanship of one of his products before. I explained to him that I was there when the bow was being fired. I also explained the concept of operator error and how it applied to this simply marvelous piece of craftsmanship. I got the big laugh I was hoping for. I told the bowyer that I had shot the bow and it far surpassed my current weapon of choice. I was complimented on my taste and rewarded with a $50 discount and express shipping. I wrote out the check and went down to the post office that afternoon. The day wasnt a complete loss and I wound up owing Ooops one after all.