Most Friday nights for traditional archers always end with our relaxation time of shooting, or spending time with friends and trying to convince them to take up traditional archery. This Friday was different. It wasn’t just a passive night of archery practice, but a solid 15 hours of archery and pure youthful energy. My good friend Ned and I were going to a trad bow shoot down in Lancaster on a sunny August 15th, and today, we were not alone.
Our friend’s sons Max and Jon came along. Jon, the older of the two is going into 7th grade and he would put the energizer bunny to shame in any type of race. His joy in life is contagious. Max, his younger brother is in 3rd grade and as much as the two are brothers through thick and thin, they are hilariously different. What they have in common is their continuous energy and talkative nature. Jon wants to try everything, Max wants to try eating everything.
As my dad would say about me as a kid, “he sure isn’t bashful!”
Waking Up Early For The Tradbow Shoot
Rolling out of bed is never difficult on a day off. I was sitting outside of my parent’s garage as Ned’s truck pulled up. He hopped out and in tow were Jon and Max. They were gushing to me about their bow and arrow set up before I had even said hello.
“I’m left-handed so I have a left-handed bow. I love my bow. We had a cheap bow, but that thing wasn’t as cool as this one. We got this at the badlands shoot with uncle Ned the other week. When was that, hey what bow do you have? Is it like uncle Neds? What’s the weight? Oh, so it’s even heavier!? I wanna get a heavier bow so I can hunt, but this one is great for practicing.” Jon and Max rattled off together.
They sounded the way I feel about my own bow. They talked nonstop trying to share every story and detail the way I want to with people who show a slight interest in shooting traditional archery. At 6am we were all smiling rolling down 61 south towards the Delta-Peachbottom Fish and Game. But first, breakfast was in order.
I had to laugh to myself 15 minutes into breakfast, we didn’t have to carry the conversation. Ned and I had known each other since I was younger than Jon, we had spent Friday nights together at campfires with our families, gone to youth group together, and even worked construction together at a job he got me out of high school. In those years we always talked, and Ned can be talkative, and he can be quiet. If there is silence for 15 minutes or even an hour while we drive or walk in the woods it is comfortable. This day there would be no silences and we could sit back as the conversation flowed from the boys who found joy and interest from every turn in the road.
Peachbottom Trad Bow Shoot
The last turn of the road took us down into a large beautiful gully. We slipped into a small parking lot that had a 15-foot wide stream flowing to the right of it, cutting the gully in half. To the left of the parking lot was a small building with a patio that already had a group of old men sitting in the shade. And to the far end of the lot was a rifle range and temporary bow shooting range.
A small bridge connected the sides of the gully. When you crossed the stream teeming with crayfish and minnows you found a pavilion and campsites spread out along the edge of the woods leading into an open field.
Making our way into the building we purchased our tickets, had some enjoyable small talk with the men running the show and then got ready to shoot. Hopping across a small bridge we wandered up the hill into the forest to the first target. We weren’t perfect shots, but we hit the deer a lot, we looked for arrows more though. It was hilarious how the guys went from being mopey and sad that they couldn’t find their arrow to ecstatic and ready for the next target.
A Little Wisdom on The Trail
We had only gotten through about 10 targets when an older gentleman started catching up with us. He had the look of a small skinny grandfather who smiled quietly as his grandkids played in his backyard and him and his wife sat on the porch swing. There was a point I had to smile as we all shot and all generations were shooting traditional archery together.
Little Ned tells my dad all the time that he wants to shoot every kind of bow just as my dad wants to ride every kind of motorcycle. It wasn’t long until we were trading our bows on a close target to get a feel for how they shot. Ironically, the old timer’s bow was a Wesley Special! For those of you that didn’t read the about me page, my name is Wesley!
We pushed on a got to shoot at an alligator in a crick and at a panda hidden within a bamboo forest. It was such a fun time and around every turn was a cool new target and new setup to shoot at. Jon and Max were in seventh heaven as they improved and got to shoot more and more. The old-timer advised them to take their time (as Ned had been for the past month) and not rush their shots. Of course, hearing it from someone new gave them the coaxing to trust the advice more. As they became more focused they became better and better shots.
Lunch & Relaxation
Heading back to Peachbottom’s building we got some burgers and hotdogs. Max and Jon were so excited to try a Coke. Jon had it once before and Max had never had it before. By the end of the day I’m pretty sure they had two or three each. They were so confused why they didn’t get a sugar rush or go crazy from it.
“Well yeah, you’re using the sugar with everything we are doing today, not sitting at home on the couch waiting to get a sugar rush. Don’t worry you’ll crash later.” Ned said as he sipped his Coke.
It had been a full morning of shooting our old long and recurve bows in the warm August sun. Our hoodies from the cool morning were shed (except for John’s, he was born in California so he is always cold). Little Ned helped the old-timer tweak his bow and arrow setup while John, Max, and I slung a few arrows into the practice range targets. John’s one arrow was different from the rest and it always seemed to go haywire. Max and him definitely needed some good arrows to shoot. For now, these arrows were what they had.
Trad Archery Round Two
We went through the course a second time and it was just as fun as the last one. It was definitely a rough start that required a bit of searching again. As we pushed through the first few targets we started getting back into a groove. We would change up the distances and laughed as we hit a turkey in the head or made a rediculous shot between trees. Soon we came upon the alligator in the stream. We went off the path and stood at the edge of the cliffside launching arrows into the alligator below.
There wasn’t an arrow left in our quivers and the alligator looked more like a porcupine. Walking up to the target Jon and Max were laughing, “Look at this one! We got it right on the butt!”
The four of us took our shoes off and waded into the water. The cool water swirled around our legs. While we may be getting older, Little Ned and I have a mindset to keep the fun in our lives. Not our youth or our teens, but simply enjoying life. I thought how most guys would be too focused on getting through the shoot to take their shoes off and relax, or in too much of a hurry to get home and mow their lawn. I hope I never make a memory of mowing the lawn. No, today was a memory and not just for me, but for these young men that may one day teach my sons how to shoot, how to have fun, how to live.
As we wandered back to the truck Ned turned to me and said, “You know, you said about writing more, this is something to write about.” It was and is. While my words can’t convey the perfect day, Jon’s just might. As we were riding home Max fell asleep and Jon started to doze. Little did they know, the day wasn’t over. The sun was still high in the sky, their father was at the hospital getting surgery on his stomach and their mother was consumed with that. So we ordered pizza.
The End of The Perfect Day
We grabbed a pizza and went over to my parents where you guessed it, we shot our bows more. When their mom and sister came to pick them up their sister had a scowl that will make her future husband squirm. Ella saw her older brothers drinking soda and eating pizza as she walked up. They were of course overflowing with stories about their day. Ella, arms crossed pointed accusingly at the soda, “We aren’t allowed to have that!”
He tone changed when my mom brought out a Coke for her to try. As the sun was setting she pulled back the bow I had from when I was her age and shot off a few arrows, one, two and thwack the third finally hit the target. She was giddy at that point saying she was “Brave”. Her curly hair being the first indication. Meanwhile, her brothers were trying to each her all at once everything they had learned from Ned over the past few months.
“Ella, you are going to have to start doing pushups every morning so you can pull the bow back,” Jon said in the most encouraging big brother voice he could muster.
“No pushups are my enemy!” Ella exclaimed. A phrase she must have heard from a friend at school or her mother.
I laughed, “I thought you were ‘Brave’.”
“Well, I’m not exactly like her, her hair is redder and she has an accent,” Ella said sheepishly.
“You know Wes, I think this is the best day ever,” Jon said out of the blue. His face showed he was searching through memories trying to find a better one, but he settled on today.
“Yeah, I think it was Jon, I think it was.”