Last weekend my daughter and I were invited to attend a banquet at the summer camp that I attended every summer when I was a youngster (Camp Sankanac). During the whole affair they had photos of the camp and campers throughout the years projected on the wall. Photos from 1941 to the present. All of a sudden my daughter elbows me and said, "Daddy, that's you up there". I looked and sure enough, there I was holding the fish I had shot with my bow when I was a young teenager.
We ate that carp around the campfire that night. I don't remember it tasting all that good, but I was mighty proud to have fed my whole cabin that night.
That bow is a Bear Alaskan "halloween" bow. It was my first bow- given to me as a child by my Grandfather's next door neighbor. That thing was my constant companion for years, and made me the archer I am (at least would like to be) today.
Recently the bow was damaged beyond repair, so with much contemplation and tears in my eyes, I cut it into three pieces and sent it to Maineac to have it turned into the scales of a set of Daddy/Daughter knives. Can't wait to show everyone how they turn out.
Thanks for looking.
Tom
Topic: One Score and Seven Years Ago (or so) (Read 246 times)
