Home › Forums › Campfire Forum › When You Were A Kid With A Bow…..
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What stupid things did you get away with or got lucky about? We shot our schlock arrows out of our 35 lb Stemmler bows straight up in the air and ran like hell not knowing where they’d come down. Seeing how close you could come without actually hitting the family dog was favorite sport. Those were some fun but oblivious years:)!
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Didn’t have a bow but my dad did! We took his arrows and using the clothes line would launch them down range…damn did they fly forever! Lucky for us no people or animals came to harm!
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I had some toy. You know the one, the 10# pull, plastic rest, plastic coated string, came with 2 fiberglass arrows with plastic vanes and dull aluminum point. Shot that thing up in the air too many times. I’m guessing that’s why it came with such dull points. One thing that I vividly remember is roaming the woods with it and finding an old discarded beer bottle. This is one of the things that have intrigued me about archery for years, and even though it took me 30 years, it’s one of the things that really got me into it. I put the bottle on a stump. I stood about 10 feet away and started hurling arrows at it. I wised often. Then (by luck since I had zero skill) the arrow hit the bottle. I was only trying to knock it off the stump, but darn-it if it didn’t shatter the bottle. Again, this was one of those setups that was just shy of having suction cups on it. I couldn’t believe it. I figured that either the bottles were real weak, or bows could really do some damage. I was walking around like I was Robin Hood for weeks. Other than that (and a few holes in the siding and a broke window from missing the siding, and shooting at any living thing crawling of flying in the tree in our back yard {the only think separating us from our neighbors was that tree, and the branches were spread far}) not much. Be well.
Alex
😀
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aways looking for the neighbors cats,rabbits and some chickens and that barking dog.
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I was a better shot then than I am now. It’s amazing how easily children learn. I had a red 20lb something or other recurve and I was flat out dangerous with that thing. Killed a lot of birds and squirrels. Rabbits and groundhogs were big game but I never got one of them until later.
Never shot arrows up in the air and ran around though. Even then, I didn’t want to die.
That reminds me of the scene in “The Sopranos” when ralphy’s kid and his friend did that. Punctured his aorta.
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Etter1 wrote: . It’s amazing how easily children learn.
X2 on that! My kids amaze me with their bows, especially my older boy (6yrs old). He became a crack shot in no time, almost like archery was instinctive for him.
A buddy of mine got a compound for christmas when we were about 14. His 7 year old brother decided to pull it back…with an arrow on it…and couldn’t let it back down by himself. He accidentally blasted that arrow out his window and IN the neighbor’s window! Lucky no one was hurt!
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My Dad gave me a Bear Little Bear when I was a kid. I still have it and a couple of the arrows. I shot another kid in the foot while he was on the run. We both freaked out. He was a pain at times so I think he deserved it. I also shot straight up in the air. It’s amazing we didn’t kill ourselves.
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We made our own bows and arrows when we were kids (wild little Indians). We made our broadheads out of slate that fell from the church roofs in the back laneways in Toronto. One summer I traveled north to North Bay to visit my cousins and brought a bunch of slate with me to show my cousins the neat things we had learned to make. I fashioned a tomahawk head out of one piece and tied it in to a split stick for my cousin. The little girl next door used to really bug my cousin and one day he up and threw the tomahawk at her. Stuck it right in her back just like in the movies. She wasn’t seriously injured, just badly cut but I was headed back to Toronto in short order and my cousin couldn’t sit for a week. It’s not only amazing we didn’t kill ourselves but it’s amazing we didn’t kill others.
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When my brother and I were 8 & 7 years old respectfully, we both had bows that our uncle had made out of yew wood. We would go out into our field and shoot arrows strait up in the air, and then hold trash can lids over our heads for “protection”, until our dad saw us one day. We couldn’t shoot for a month. That cured us from that stunt….
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When I was 7 my parents took the family to Great Smoky Mountain National Park. We camped in one of the campgrounds notorious for bear visitations to the garbage cans. One night my dad noticed me missing from around the campfire and began his search. He found me stalking with my kiddie bow with suction cup arrows within 10 feet of a large black bear who was feeding on trash from a can. Needless to say, he got me out of there and back to the fire where the family tale began of “Jeff and the Bear.”
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Having a military father meant guns were taken very seriously in our house.
When local tv started showing the “American Sportsman” and seeing how Fred Bear hunted with Bow and Arrow, the bug hit.
Didn’t take long to figure out that those small sapling in the woods behind the house could easily be bent into a nice arc. With the help of a short piece of string I had my first bow.
I used everything I could find for arrows. Finally I noticed that certain dry weeds (not sure what they were) held up better than others.
The more I shot the better I got (amazing what a little practice will do).
Anyway, one day dad caught me shooting when I was supposed
to be working. After a long scolding he stated “keep it up and that bend stick is going to get you tail bent”.
Needless to say it went in one ear and out the other.
As time went by I found out that if I set my intended target just right I could ricochet an arrow off a tree or fence post and strike my intended target almost every time (trick shooting before it became popular).
As usual, you get involved in something and an elephant could walk by without you knowing it.
That elephant turned out to be my dad repairing the fence right behind my secret shooting area.
Needless to say when that bad shot stuck in the ground next to him scolding me again wasn’t in the lineup.
Troy
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We lived outside of March AFB in California off and on for years when I was elementary school age. Once, some of us lads were camping out and decided flaming arrows were the thing of the night. We probably would’ve burnt a chunk of S. California to the ground if a deputy sheriff hadn’t of gotten curious. He was kind enough except he made it a point to inform our parents. My daddy made it a serious point that flaming arrows were not cool. A point that I’ve tried to pass on to my children and grandchildren in a much kinder fashion. 😀 What hurt worse than my tail was having my bow taken from me for a spell.
You should’ve seen what happened when I actually hit the car going down the highway with my wrist rocket and a steely. Whoa!!!That was rough on a youngster but never forgotten. Them old USAF M/Sgt’s. can get your attention real quick. Bout as fast as my Marine Corp drill sgt’s did.
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71flh wrote: When my brother and I were 8 & 7 years old respectfully, we both had bows that our uncle had made out of yew wood. We would go out into our field and shoot arrows strait up in the air, and then hold trash can lids over our heads for “protection”, until our dad saw us one day. We couldn’t shoot for a month. That cured us from that stunt….
Oh I lol’d on that one:D I’ m not sure if you guys were smarter, dumber or braver than us of the “shoot and run” crowd. Never ceases to amaze me how many of us survived to adulthood.
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The first bow I got as a kid was a red fiberglass Bear, which I paid for by mowing lawns and such. It came with a few wood arrows and one big paper target. I taped the target to an old steel wheel barrow and quickly broke all my arrows. I asked my dad and grandfather to make me some more arrows (in my family, breaking things out of stupidity and asking for more didn’t fly terribly well).
Instead of chewing me out, I ended up in my grandfather’s basement — which was at one time a small archery shop — learning to make my own arrows. I’ve been making all my own arrows ever since.
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Loose-running, bird-killing fat cats, and my only reget is I could never hit them. Even today I hate fatcats. 😛
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Fortunately I was listening when my father taught me the safety rules which apply to anything that shoots and I was entrusted at an early age with a BB gun and a 25# solid glass Wonder Bow with a Shakespeare leather quiver full of field points. The thought never crossed my mind to ever shoot at anyone with either of them. However, my sister must not have had the same training. They were all in the kitchen as I came through on my way to put the BB gun away when she asked to see it. I handed it to her and she cocked it and before I could say anything she absently pulled the trigger. The BB hit me on the wrist and bounced off without breaking the skin, teaching us all another valuable lesson.
But many of my childhood years were filled with enjoyment with that forest green Wonder Bow with it’s off white handle. Together we hunted black birds, field rats and frogs along the miles of agricultural ditches that were right across the road. I never seemed to ever get a shot at any rabbits or squirrels. I must have been too hasty in my movements. But after many thousands of shots I did impale a few birds and rats. Hours were spent lobbing arrows at distant larks in the horse and mule pasture. Never even came close but it was fun.
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I had a 40# paul bunyan fiberglas bow, and took it up the street to the high school football field to see if it would shoot 100 yards. Got under the goalpost, pulled it back, raised the arrow to about 45 degrees, and let go. The arrow cleared the fench at the opposite end of the field and stuck in the side of an old womans house. I went down there and she was trying to pull it out, but couldn’t. She finally broke it off, walked over to the fence and gave it to me. I went home, feeling lucky, until my dad got home from work and the phone rang. Lost my bow for a month after that.
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This thread brought back many good memories of my childhood.
My first bow was an unmarked green fiberglass bow that my Grandfather found at the dump. I had to use fishing line for a bow string and and a multitude of different items as arrows. Because I could never shoot it well with much consistency I became very skilled at stalking and getting close. I cherished it more than any store bought toy that I owned and was inseparable from it on weekends. All my friends had BB guns and I was the oddball with the bow. I took alot of ribbing but would never trade that bow for a BB gun. My Grandfather also brought home a pair of cross country skies from the dump but that is another story!
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