Let's not forget, versatile. Two short SK stories. A brother of a compound hunter told me how his brother told everyone that my trad stuff was junk and useless. I asked him and his friend how many quarters they had, 6, and bet them those six quarters that I could hit one of them if they were to be politely tossed across my four by eight target stack. I backed up past ten yards just to make him nervous while he hid behind by wood barrier. He tossed them politely enough, I hit four out of six and put the quarters we could find in my pocket.
2. The 9 pointer and two does were coming, rather quickly, up the further trail. From my low position the brush line would block the shot, so I climbed half way up a silo latter that someone left from the previous year against a tree to access a strap-on tree stand. I stuck one leg through the ladder and when the buck was approaching the only possible hole in the brush, I drew, swung with him, took a little lead and put the 2018 tipped with a Delta through him. The shot was still up hill and the arrow hung up in some tree branches past the buck a few yards. The buck tore off, covering about 50 yards, then his legs gave out, he skidded to a stop and lay still. While I waited on the ladder without moving, everything was very quiet, then the final sound of what just occurred, my arrow rattled out of the tree. I waited another fifteen minutes, before I climbed down.