Reaching the next level

Jack Deatherage, Jr.

(5/2018) I guess it's going on twenty-one years since the offspring asked me to teach him to shoot guns. We ended up at Marty's family farm where Jack 3,was quickly taught that all firearms are loaded all the time! His finger was never to be within the trigger guard until he was ready to actually shoot. The muzzle was to be always pointed in a safe direction. He was to think before squeezing the trigger- what is beyond the target? Where will the bullet stop? It was impressed upon him, many times, that once fired- the shot could not be taken back, and he was completely responsible for whatever happened after he touched off a round. Heady stuff for a nine year old. Headier yet that he learned to shoot pistols- a .25 semiautomatic and a .357 six-shot revolver!

A few years later he was learning to shoot a bow at the Izaak Walton League of America, Frederick Chapter 1. He was also introduced to muzzleloading firearms during his brief time at that conservation club and became proficient with a .50 caliber long rifle, but not so much with a .44 caliber six-shot revolver we bought him for his sixteenth birthday. (Yes, a 16 year old can own a cap and ball firearm. Acquiring the propellant and caps to shoot it is another matter.)

During those years, the DW also learned to shoot a .22 caliber rifle and a bow. While the offspring lost interest in firearms and archery, DW took to the bow as if attempting to make up for lost time! For ten years we drove over to the Gettysburg Archery Club so she could sling arrows at paper targets. She shot leagues scores on one of the JCA teams, and in spite of her vision problems- managed to maintain a decent score over the years we competed at that club. Had she not hurt her shoulder at work, she'd still be shooting today.

My adventure with the bow mostly mirrored DW's. I eventually reached a level of skill that showed me the next step required to shoot a perfect score. I had to start working with free weights, get control of my diet and come up with the mindset to do both. My innate laziness dictated a less strenuous change of course.

Life's ups and downs also cooled my enthusiasm for sending arrows down range. With DW not shooting, and our incomes plummeting as the factory slowly closed, I couldn't justify the gas burnt to drive to the club, nor the membership fee- low as it is compared to other clubs in the area. I hung up my bows and pursued bread building and napping.

Around the time I was backing off arrow slinging the Izaak Walton youth program changed it's scheduled archery day from Sunday to Monday. Sunday being the only day I could attend I found myself standing as a helper to the Range Safety Observers and rifle coaches on the firearms range. Not my favorite thing, but necessary to ensure each child has an adult watching over them while handling firearms.

Once out of the habit of shooting arrows, I suggested to DW we either sell our bows and equipment, or donate them to some club that might make use of them. The DW, not one to easily let go anything she's put money, time and effort into (which explains why she hasn't tossed me out, yet) suggested we hang on awhile longer. She'd like to start shooting again when circumstances allow. I went along with that figuring my slightly over average draw length bow wouldn't be of much use to the kids at the IWLA anyhow.

Sitting in the Emmitsburg Tattoo shop one evening, Tattoo Don- pillar of the community, suggested I teach him to shoot a bow. He'd acquired a bow from Cantori's shop and was determined to master the thing. While I wasn't sure I could resurrect what little I know about archery I took a look at the bow he had. An older Hoyt compound target bow that would have been state of the art in its day, but wasn't the bow Don needed. (While I could easily shoot the Hoyt I didn't want Don having to unlearn the shooting form I'd have to teach him in order to use it. Better he begin with a bow more suited to his draw length and what he planned on using a bow for. I blew the dust off my target/hunting bow and had him give it a pull. Still too short a draw for him! (I see why he often calls himself a goon! And I thought I had ape arms!) Off to JCA's shop we went.

While June was ordering parts to convert my bow to Don's needs I went to the Gettysburg Archery Club and got Don and myself enrolled as members. We'd need a place indoors to shoot until Don had a solid grasp of the workings of mechanical release aids, pin and peep sights, kisser buttons and blah blah blah before we ventured outside and began shooting the club's course through the woods and along a field edge.

I've hung around the tattooer enough to know he goes hammer-and-tong at anything he takes an interest in. Archery proved no different. In just a few Mondays I watched him go from spraying arrows all around a target to grouping them better than I did after months of practice! At one point he told me I was a good coach. I laughed at him. He's a much better student than I am a coach! While Don was dialing in his form and figuring out how to sight the bow, I knocked the some years dust and animal hair off a recurve bow and found some arrows to play with.

Forty years ago I could regularly hit my mark with a recurve bow. These days? I'm happy to hit the wall and get an unbroken arrow back! Still, I stood next to Don and let fly as I tried to recall what I'd done decades ago. Little by little the motions trickled back and the arrows occasionally hit the target, and rarely hit the mark I was aiming at. I was beginning to think I'd stick with the recurve when June announced he had a used compound bow he though Don would find suited to his archery goals.

For a brief moment I was caught between which bows I wanted to shoot. Then it occurred to me that I'd reached a new level. I am never going to master either bow, but I'm where introducing new people to the sport of archery is more fun anyhow. Which sets me to wondering why so many archers I know seem to avoid coaching.

Some years ago I asked Coach Ben Kelkye why he kept calling me back to the IWLA to coach arrow slinging when he knew so many better archers and coaches than me.

"Because you come when I call you. You have no idea how rare that is."

Actually I see his point. In a world of instant self-gratification I seem to have stumbled on some older method of inducing pleasure. I think it used to be called- teaching?