Watching films of Howard Hill, Ben Pearson, Fred Bear, and others shoot feathered shafts through the air got me hooked! The mystical flight of a feathered shaft was strangely addicting, and I found myself trapped in it's grip.
Even before I attended a "Boy Scout" camp in Northwest Michigan in 1966, I had been shooting traditional bows for a couple of years. You see, there was no "Compounds" available when I began. However, when they showed up, I fought it until I was a young man in the service of our country. It was 1977 when I began a ten year seduction of the "sting gun." During that time, I lost the feeling that I was apart of the process. That new fangled bow was a hunk of metal, with cables, and cams that I held and shot. It was not beautiful, in fact the more I tired to find the beauty and warmth in it, the more hideous it became. Cold in my hand, heavy, and making more noise than a dixieland jazz band! With fiber optic sights it was accurate, and fast. Yet it left me wanting.
A very, very, good bowhunter I knew at the time told me, "There is nothing that you can bolt on, attach, or glue to your bow that will make you a better bowhunter." The truth, and honesty in his advice hit home with the gentleness of a sledgehammer right between the eyes. The sledgehammer or truth!
It was about that time that I met the late, Glenn Parker, who built me my first custom made stick bow. As they say, the rest is history. I am again one with the bow I shoot, and can again see the mystical flight of my arrows as intended.
It was akin to being reunited with a long lost lover. A sleek, shapely object of my affections.Shooting a traditional bow is as natural as eating, sleeping, and fatherhood. That is why I choose traditional bows for hunting.