Over at my site is another story about my Dad in his younger days. I know most of you are traditional bowhunters like me, but these stories are about a man who taught me how to love the woods, hunting and life in general. He also put the first Bear recurve in my hand when I was a teen. It didn’t take with him (partially because he was in South Florida and back then the game was sparse. You had one shot a year at deer, usually at a distance, so he made sure it counted). On the other hand, it stuck with me and when I got back into bowhunting, nothing else held the magic like stick and string. For that I owe him.