Bloodlines One Hunter s Choice Shapes Three Generations

Bloodlines: How Bowhunter’s Decision Is Shaping Three Generations’ Hunting Journey

THE SOUND OF drops on my rain jacket echoed in my ears as I sat against a soggy oak tree, the lightweight recurve resting in my lap, arrow fletchings laden with water.

The weather matched my mood. My first year as a traditional bowhunter fell short of expectations. I had never been a fan of deer hunting in the rain, and after an hour in the misty downfall, I considered calling it quits. But this late in the season, quitting would feel like giving up on the whole experience. So I resolved to stick it out, absorbed in my thoughts and feeling as gray as the sky above me.

Family Ties

I’m no stranger to hunting, or bowhunting for that matter. My siblings and I grew up running through the woods and shooting our bows in the barn loft. We hunted whitetails with hand-me-down shotguns in winter. Traditional bowhunting came later. It struck me while sitting in my treestand at 26 years old.

After a successful hunt where I shot a big doe, the excitement that had driven me for the past 10 years seemed to have diminished. I needed a challenge. Traditional archery had always intrigued me. Recurve and longbow hunters possessed a larger-than-life aura. I had put off learning to shoot a traditional bow for years, but that day in the treestand, it felt right to pick it up again.

Starting from Scratch

Finding someone to hunt with wasn’t easy. My dad had switched to a recurve, but he lived hundreds of miles away. So I did my own research, reading about Fred Bear and watching YouTube videos. I reached out to a bowyer at Wolf Paw Custom Bows and bought a custom hybrid recurve. It felt like the perfect fit. Yet, shooting a traditional bow was more difficult than I expected. Some days were beautiful, others were frustratingly off. But these struggles were what made traditional archery unique and rewarding.

Hard Truths

I shot countless arrows and studied hard, but I still didn’t feel proficient. After weeks of experimentation, I decided to shoot instinctively. It felt natural to me after years of bowfishing.

My ultimate goal was to take a whitetail with my recurve. Six months of dedicated practice later, I was finally ready. I quickly learned that hunting with a traditional bow demanded a different mindset. The odds of success were slimmer, but the hunt itself became more meaningful. Every day in the woods taught me something new.

The Tipping Point

One rainy Christmas Day, I found myself brooding against a soggy tree trunk. I had debated whether it was worth hunting in the rain, but then I remembered a golden rule: if you have time to hunt, go. So I grabbed my gear and headed out.

As I sat there, I thought about hunters who had come before me, who had brought home venison with a stick and string. Three deer suddenly appeared, picking their way towards me. If they continued on their path, I would have the perfect shot. I waited, heart pounding, bow in hand, until the last doe stopped. In one smooth motion, I drew and released my arrow. The shot was perfect.

Retrieving that doe was quick work, and as I knelt beside her, I knew traditional archery was the hardest but most rewarding hunting I had ever done. From that day forward, I vowed to solely hunt with a traditional bow.

Full Circle

Since then, my love for traditional archery has grown. Success isn’t always guaranteed, but I have learned to find joy in the hunt itself. I shared my passion with my dad, who expressed interest in getting back into it. I gifted him a Bear Super Kodiak Black Beauty, an exact replica of the one he had owned in 1972. He went on to kill two deer with it.

Now, I bring my young daughter into the woods with me. Although she is too young to draw a bow, she hunts beside me, forming a bond between generations. Traditional archery is in our blood.

This story originally ran in the Traditions issue of Outdoor Life. Read more OL+ stories.