"So, I understand you're an archery expert." The voice on the phone belonged to the director of the local YMCA camp, and he was only half-serious. I was expecting his call because a friend had asked me if I would be interested in running an archery range for a school field trip, but his words took me aback for a moment. "I've been a 4-H archery instructor for a few years," I said. "But I wouldn't say I'm an expert." That was good enough for him, and after a brief conversation we agreed that I should come over to the camp and check out the range. I'm certainly no archery expert, by any definition of that term. However, I do have a passion for archery. Growing up in Detroit, I didn't know anyone who hunted or shot bows. My family went camping in northern Michigan each summer: seven kids and a dog in a big canvas tent. We canoed some rivers and caught a few fish, but Dad was not a hunter, and probably hadn't shot a gun since his time in the Korean War