The American Semi-Long

 

 

The American Semi-long

 

Light as a feather in the hand to carry

Elegant and graceful lines make merry

Whisper quiet and deadly with empty string

Solid and strong, it packs quite a sting

Deep and narrow, limbs that are trapped

Throwing an arrow with precision untapped

Effective, stable, accurate and simple

Slender, robust, long and nimble

No gadgets, no rests, no bow quiver to clutter

Drawing smooth and steady, soft as warm butter

With mystical records of hunting prowess and lore

Howard Hill after all…. need I say more

Close Enough To Touch!

Saturday morning found me nestled amongst some deadfall brambles and leaning back against a pair of maple tree trunks.   The wind was swirling and biting through my layers of wool as I cooled from the hike up the mountain.  A beautiful sunrise emerged from behind me as the reds of an unsettled morning illuminated the trees and landscape to my front. 

 

As I was taking it all in, the silence was shattered by the crunch, crunch, crunch of a deer approaching me from behind.  I rose from my stool and turned to greet the sounds as they approached.  Then I saw a flash, and a large doe bounded up the hill toward the refuge of the mountain laurel snorting belligerently over and over as she went.  I thought she must have caught my movement or my scent from the shifty winds.  Well, it turns out I found  later Brent was hunting not too far away and the deer walked between us.  As Brent turned to face the doe his upper recurve limb shook the deadfall branches of the large clump of brambles he was sitting inside and alerted the doe.  She never knew I was there.

 

As the morning wore on and I settled back in.  I again heard the same crunching footfall behind my tree.  Slower and more cautious this time.  I decided to remain standing with my back to the tree and wait for the animal to emerge before trying to move (I still did not know Brent was the cause of the other deer’s flight).  I stood frozen and waiting.  Then in my peripheral vision, I caught sight of a LARGE bodied buck approaching from the peak.  Then, behind following at about 20 yards was another twin….two large 8 pointers were coming on a line straight toward me.  I stood as a wooden indian and completely forgot about the footfalls that were behind me.  As all of my attention was focused on the twins coming down the hill I was completely surprised when a 6 point walked from behind my tree and was suddenly close enough broadside to spit on.  Instinctively our eyes met and I am sure he saw mine grow large as I do not remember moving. The buck immediately wheeled and jumped back behind my tree.  The animal was close enough I could have touched it with my longbow if I was reaching out with it by the lower limb.

 

I never moved, especially with the two twins watching.  The 6 point then calmed down seeing the other two bucks and after a few minutes cautiously walked up the hill toward the twins.  I could have easily taken a shot at the smaller 6 at this point, as he was quartering away and walking uphill.  I was suddenly a little greedy though and wanted one of the two larger bucks that were approaching.  The lead was walking down toward me still, and the rear guard was thrashing a tree and making a scrape.  The two stranger bucks mingled and exchanged some posturing before the smaller went off on a tangent up the hill and away.  The lead twin cautiously came closer but was still suspicious of the wooden indian and the way the smaller buck reacted there.  Finally he was standing facing me at 20 yards and we remained frozen for what seemed like 15 minutes, but was probably only about 3.  Finally the buck caught a wiff of something he did not like (I am guessing since I never moved) and snorted quick and jumped back.  He trotted to a position quartering away at about 30 yards and paused.  I knew it was time to shoot or watch it leave.  I had a small hole to shoot through but it was doable.  I drew and released and a loud “CRACK” followed as by broadhead smashed into a half hollow standing dead tree about 15 yards to my front. That buck hightailed it for the laurel.  The rear buck actually hung around for a while and I attempted to grunt it in, but he acted like he did not even hear me and meandered toward where the first buck exited, melting back into the laurels.

 

Oh well, A great and memorable morning with a small lesson in decision making.  The way my season has been I should have just taken the small buck when I had the chance.

 

A "Little" Bit of Success

You may have noticed I have not been around these parts recently....been hitting the woods hard.

Sit back, grab a full mug of hot coffee, and join Mike and I as we recant the tales of a fall turkey / deer hunt in the heart of Maryland’s largest contiguous public hunting area.

 

The accommodations include a brand new Davis wall tent 12x14 with all the extras.

 

The adventures will be as varied as the game we seek including turkey, deer, ruffed grouse, rabbit, squirrel, woodcock, and yote.

 

I arrived at camp just as the morning rains subsided to set up "Hill Haven" camp.

 

 

At 47,500 acres, Greenridge State Forest offers some of the best public hunting in the state for those who want to get away from the crowds. Secluded primitive campsites are located throughout the forest and we make it a habit to camp and hunt at a dead end forest road named "Howard Road".

 

Fall turkey season ends on Saturday 11/2, so I had Friday evening and all day Saturday to get the job done on a bird either sex. The population of deer and turkey has been steadily increasing in recent years in the area partly due to the recent finding of a CWD positive deer and the fact of a poor economy. We have heard stories of rifle hunters unhappy in the past firearms season because there were not enough hunters to push the deer around. This suited us just fine.

 

After camp was set up and the work done, I headed off to an area that I had scouted in the spring gobbler season. There were two huge scrapes the size of car hoods about 20 feet apart in this small shelf overlooking a steep valley. I decided to sit with the climbing stand this time and see what came by.

My chosen tree had a small white oak, now a glorious red with still attached leaves, standing right adjacent and giving me superb cover with my red tinged plaid shirt. There was no sign of fresh scrape or rub activity this time, but I was brimming with optimism.

 

It was refreshing to finally get back into the woods again.....amazing the sights one can see if they really look

 

 

The woods was eerily quiet as I eased into a slow breathing hunting mode and melding with the woodland. The, I heard a twig break somewhere behind me and I was jolted back to sharp focus. Peering through the red oak leaves of my back cover, I saw a group of hen turkey making their way across the hill behind me. I immediately knew I needed to turn around to my left side in order to be able to shoot in that direction.

Successfully completing that maneuver I could see the lead bird making her way across the hill at about 60 yards. I knew at this point they would not head any closer to my tree so if I wanted to shoot I needed to do it quickly. The birds were about even to me in elevation on the hill, the lead bird stopped in the clear and I drew back and let fly.

I watched as my arrow flight was a perfect spinning ball of feathers directly at the point I was looking at!

Then just as it was about to impact, I saw the arrow drop slightly and the shaft hit right at her feet, causing her to jump up and back reflex. Still the birds milled about and the shot at bird had no idea what had just happened. I managed to get another arrow out and on the string but by then the group had moved farther into cover and I watched them amble out of sight and over the hill.

What a great evening! My first shot at a bird after 9 years of trying for the spring gobblers.

I headed back to camp to recount my activities to Mike over the campfire, a cup of coffee, and some ribeye steaks I fried up. Chicken soup stewed in the dutch oven for the next day.

Great stuff! Excellent first day.

Here is a view of the foliage and Potomac on the drive in:

 

 

The second morning brought renewed excitement. I headed back to the same tree on the oak flat in order to see what a new day would bring.

As darkness gave way to light, I could hear a turkey cackle and flydown from the roost not too far down the steep valley below. I slid the diaphragm call in my mouth and gave a few clucks which were greeted by an immediate answer from that direction. I knew enough to zip it at that point…I kept quiet as I began to hear footfalls in the dry leaves from the direction down the valley. A grey head popped over the ridge as the lead hen was chugging right along looking for the other turkey to beckoned it. The next hen was a little more cautious and stayed about 20 yards behind.

She was moving fast, and I slightly adjusted my position to point my shoulder toward her more. She was coming from my right side and I would not have a shot unless she passed almost in front of me. There was a large tree there I was planning to time my draw to when she went behind.

…but it was not meant to be. Those birds are sharp when they are looking hard. She stepped in the clear about 30 yards away and pinpointed me in the tree despite absolutely no movement. She putted a few times and began to back up…..still she was not sure there was harm but something was not right up that tree. She milled around a bit putting softly and they both slowly slunk back in the direction they came.

Birds with a bow are tough….sure enough!

 

A little 20 minutes after light and I had a bird within 30 yards...not too shabby.

 

Around 10am I could hear something approach from below the rise....soon enough 2 turkey pop over and head straight towards me and on my left side! The birds kept advancing to about 18 yards when I "felt" the time was right. with a large bird in the clear I drew back and released. I watched as my arrow sailed high by about a food! I REALLY need to work on this treestand shooting!. The bird immediately flew straight up in the air. It's immense body in full splendor as it backpeddled in the air and came back down very close to where it launched and very confused. Still no clue I was there. I reached back and pulled an arrow ever so slowly and quietly. I noticed it was a blunt! Oh well...they were not going to hang around while I played games. I nocked and drew again...this time the arrow barely missing the body neck junction...maybe even clipping some feathers. That was enough! She was gone.....they all were gone. But wow...what an opportunity!

The morning sun brought out the beauty of the fall colors that remained on the trees. The sun warmed my side of the mountain and I could see deer across either draw in my binos browsing in the warmth. Stuck in this tree I had no ability for a stalk on them. Finally after seeing my 5th deer I decided to get down. As I lowered by Tembo, I heard a crashing down the Hillside. Dang it! There was one approaching and my inpatientness cost me a potential opportunity. I decided then and there to return in the evening from the ground.

 

Back at camp for a quick cup of coffee, a little practice with the longbow, and warming the bones a little by the woodstove and we were heading back into the woods.

 

Life is good!

 

 

 

 

 

So after a relatively uneventful windy and drizzly evening hunt, Mike and I plotted out Sunday's activities as we hurried into the shelter and warmth of the wall tent and comforting hiss of the ol’Coleman lantern. In Maryland there is no Sunday hunting allowed on public land so we opted to try out our dusty fly rods and hit a small trout stream a good mile down the mountain.

 

The water levels were low, but we managed to find a good looking pool complete with beaver lodge. Only a couple small sunnies and a large fallfish (creek chub) were landed and returned to the waters. the scenery was well worth the walk though.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After the hike back to camp and a hearty dinner of venison stew I had going in the dutch oven, Mike fired up the chainsaw and we set about resupplying our firewood with some deadfall.

 

Then we had some fun with the bows....Schulz, Ekin, and Miller were well represented and we were shooting pretty well I must say. Anticipation was high for Monday morning.

Mike’s “Saipan bamboo chimes” ringtone alarm on his phone had us awake to a dark and cooling tent. Firing up the Coleman brought in instant bright light as I stoked up the woodstove with 2 fresh logs and placed the already awaiting coffee pot and stew on to warm. The lows this night were down to 28 degrees but we stayed pretty darn comfy in the wall tent. We took our time putting on our wool layers and lacing up our boots with high hopes that the increasing rut activity and that good practice we had yesterday would pay off. Outside the chill was biting and the stars still shining bright. The early birds were up and we planned on getting more than just a worm.

Donning my heavy wool gray plaid hunting coat, I set out with only my lightweight walkstool slung under the backquiver. Sitting back up the hill that overlooked that oak flat I found a nice large tree trunk to lean up against complete with a little bit of multiflora back cover. I cleared away a large semicircle of leaves so I could maneuver quietly and sat down to watch as the sunrise slowly rose over the ridgeline.

By 9:30 I was getting pretty cold from staying motionless for so long and the breeze started to rustle the leaves. I thought to myself, “Well, I may as well get after them” as Hill might say. Stalking conditions were good and moving a little would help me shake off this biting chill.

I picked my way along moving with slow deliberate movements….then waiting. A few steps at a time. If I did crack a twig I would softly cluck a few times on the turkey call. It took about 20 minutes to move 15 yards and I came upon a sort of sunken road up through the woods. I had just crested my side of the bank when I caught movement up the hill to my left. There in the lane stood a small doe! She had just appeared and stopped in the open 20 yards away and she was looking up the hill away from me. I looked at a spot and began to draw……..

 

 

As I began to draw, the doe snapped her head around behind her for a split second and bounded forward….at the same instant I could hear what sounded like a tree crashing and elk hooves hitting the earth at a gallop down the hill to my right. I began to pivot in that direction with the bow still up in position as a Huge bodied buck appeared in mid-air as it leapt over a deadfall log in hot pursuit of a doe! As I was pivoting and he was in mid-air time seemed to stand still…..I could see “recognition” on the face of the buck as it must have spotted me in my pivot. I began to draw but as soon as his hooves hit the ground he was back down the ravine…..I waited for him to crest below me in the open for a shot…..but he never did.

I stood there for a moment feeling my heart pounding after nearly being run down by this buck. Regaining my composure I thought about finding a good spot to sit on the other side of this rise in order to catch another suitor that may eventually trail this hot doe. Seemed logical to me. I looked up the lane and could see the back end of that small doe going up and out of sight. I still had deer in the area.

I continued to creep forward at a snail’s pace…trying to make a blow down that could observe the slope below. As I crested the far side berm of the lane I could see down that there was a big bodied doe browsing around another deadfall about 60 yards below.

I began my stalk. Watching and moving as the deer put its head down to browse I gained another 10 yards in about 15 minutes. The big doe just continued to feed back and forth in the same area. Finally I got to a spot between two large tree trunks that gave me some back cover and the ability to shoot on either side of the front tree should the doe approach from either side. There was no other cover to continue my stalk any closer so I decided to wait her out and hope she came up my way.

After about another 12 minutes, I caught movement up the hill to my left. The small doe had crested the berm and was heading down. She would cross right in from of my broadside at 15 yards in the open. I hesitated for a moment, then decided a bird in hand was better than the possibility I may not get with the big doe. The deer put its head down to feed and I raised the bow, drew, and released. My arrow disappeared and the doe tumbled down the hillside. My shot was a little to the right and I caught her dead center of the neck close to where it meets the chest. The arrow passing completely through the hide on the far side and severing the neck. The neck was broken and the end was quick. I glanced up to see the big doe exiting the back of the valley. She was lucky this day I thought to myself.

After all the opportunities I have had so far this season I needed a little bit of confidence back.

 

At least she was easier to carry back to camp. I served Mike my victory breakfast of heart and eggs.

 

 

 

 

Life is good. Thanks for coming along.

 

Saturday's Dilemma

Saturday morning’s hunt tested my ethical boundaries. I had spent an enjoyable morning sitting on the ground up against a thick tangle of rose and vines hoping the numerous does I saw in our headlights on the drive up to the parking area would filter up through the stand and momentarily feed on under some white oaks I was over watching. Nothing ever presented and I figured I would stretch my legs by around 9:30 and set up on the other side of the Hill trying to intercept a deer that Mike may push as he made his way out of the woods toward me from the back of the property.

By 10:30 I was set up all cozy against a root ball 15 yards uphill from a deer trail when Mike informed me via text message he was already past me and at the truck.

I remembered that spot for another morning, and started my slow walk out of the woods.

I was quietly walking slowly down the deer trail towards the main access trail when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. A doe was bedded down only about 27 yards downhill of the access trail and she had her head low to the ground and ears splayed out. Our eyes met and I knew we had both made each other out. The sly old gals was trying to “lie low” and just allow me to walk on by. I edged ahead until a tree was between her head and me. Now what?! I moved forward as far as my cover would allow and she remained laying there. I was now on the main access trail and 20 yards from a bedded doe with her head toward me. I look at her with my binos and am severely tempted to shoot her lying down. I know I could hit her, but her head and neck were facing me, her spine ran along my uphill side and her legs were tucked under. I pictured what her vitals looked like that way. My only chance was a neck shot, or a spine hit, or somehow trying to miss the shoulder blade that I was sure was blocking most of her lung area.

I quickly dismissed that notion as I thought of the likelihood of a bad hit, poor blood trail from an arrow out of her back and possibly no 2^nd hole, and tried to think of a way to get her up.

Could I move closer? No deal…no more cover and she was staring me down like a Asiatic water buffalo.

I knew she had seen me. I grabbed a short section of branch that was nearby and decided to try to throw it behind her and get her to get up and look there. I chucked the branch…. it hit the leaves….she turned and looked….but stayed down. Well that didn’t work.

I sat there for several more minutes trying to think of more options. Should I try to wait her out? No, she knows I am here…I’ll be here all afternoon waiting…

Finally, I had a plan. The plan I should have done all along. I decided to get up and casually turn and walk away without looking at her. After I make the edge of the filed I can come back up the middle trail from behind her and try another stalk as the wind was conducive. I simply got up turned and walked out.

When I finally crept back up there she was long gone… I never heard her leave when I was walking out.

If I could do it again, I would have just acted like I didn’t see her from the get go and she might have hung around thinking she had me outwitted.

My wife asked me why I didn’t just shoot it…..though the thought had crossed my mind. I just didn’t want to take that chance. Perhaps I will cross paths with her again someday in better circumstances for me.

Brent Becomes an Archery Hunter

I first met Brent in the mid nineties as we were both serving in the National Guard together.  He was brought up in the "hunting camp" culture of Eastern Pennsylvania and has only ever hunted with firearms.  I convinced Brent to become a two season hunter and got him permission to hunt on a small farm in Maryland where he learned to get close and hunt deer with his compound bow.  Brent started to become proficient with his new weapon system and was able to harvest a few deer a year with me.  At about this time I was transitioning to shooting the traditional bow.  At first he could not understand why I would put myself at such a disadvantage when I was so proficient at killing with the compound (this was exactly why I was doing it by the way), but he finally accepted my new obsession.  I never pushed him to traditional.  Instead he saw how much fun I was having shooting targets and stumps whenever we were together.  One day he asked me if I would sell him one of my bows.  I had purchased a Ben Pearson Cougar recurve off an auction site that was badly in need of refinishing.  I bought the bow for $50 and sold it to Brent for $60 after putting a nice restoration finish on her.  Interestingly enough, he said his father had hunted in PA a long time ago with the same model Ben Pearson.  The bow was perfect for him as it was 45#@28 inches and a good weight to learn as well as hunt some day.  After a few years of practice he started to hunt with it during the late season after he had already collected a few deer with the compound and gun.  I can still remember his excitement when he told me of a miss he made on a doe as he was sitting in some deadfall.  I knew he would continue to hunt with it.

This year approached quickly, and the day before the opening Saturday Brent asked me if he should hunt with the recurve or bring the compound.  I told him that this time of the year was much easier to get close to game with all the foliage still on the trees.  I said he should hunt early with the recurve and once the leaves fell he could use the mechanical shooter for more distance capability if he wished.  Sounded reasonable to him. 

So Saturday morning had us parked at the hunting area once again.  As we parted I wished him good luck and he made his way up the meadow to his favorite treestand.  I began a slow stalk up toward him, hoping if I pushed a deer it might travel under his stand.

I was hunting this year without any commercial camo and I wanted to stalk up on a deer from the ground just like Howard Hill used to do.  I was decked out in plaid, wool LL Bean pants, and my favorite broken in hat and Bean boots.

I slowly picked my way along as the wind was quartering toward me.  Suddenly I heard leaves rustling nearby....maybe 30 yards or so in back of this very thick vine covered and rose choked cluster.  I thought that the sounds were too "heavy sounding" to be a squirrel....maybe a turkey or a deer.  I moved like a bobcat on the stalk...slowly placing the ball of my foot on the ground and inching as slow as possible toward the intermittent rustling.  As I cut the distance in half I could start to near acorns crunching and breathing sounds.....a leaf would move here or there but I just could not make anything out through the thicket.  The deer was close now...and I was sure it was a deer....within 12 yards or so.  I moved my head ever so slightly to get around an overhanging branch when I heard the snort.  the game was over!  After a couple blows and me frozen in time, I could hear heavy footfalls as the deer bounded away.  I never even got to see it, but I knew I was in its "personal space".  It felt good!

I guess I should have waited to move until I heard the leaves again.....Oh well. Another lesson.

I progressed up the hill and after another hour and a half, I crested a small gully and spotted movement ahead of me.  At about 30 yards a doe was making her way right toward me!  I tried to get in a position to shoot as she had her head down and then everyone froze......she knew something was up.....but how?  Did she see me.... We played the waiting game and she slowly started to flick her tail...Ah, there might be another nearby.  just as this thought crossed my mind, another deer started to snort off in the thick brush.  It snorted for about 5 minutes and I figured this stalk was about over too.  The doe had moved slightly and was behind a tree trunk so I slowly sunk down to my knees and knelt.  Perhaps I can wait them out. 

I knelt for about 10 minutes when out of the corner of my left eye I spotted movement only about 25 yards away.  I looked left and was amazed a deer had come from quartering behind me and was now broadside and traveling up a trail that would have it cresting the little gully berm I was sitting on.  She was walking at a steady pace and I started to worry she would continue over the gully out of sight.  My mistake was to try to get her attention and stop her.  I hissed slightly and she stopped an looked at me as I was simultaneously drawing and coming to anchor. 

The Schulz hunter head tipped arrow was away and I could see it travel low under her and she exploded out of there with dirt flying!

 

 

I made two mistakes.  I missed low....and I should have just let her keep walking and shot.  She had no idea I was there and I risked her jumping the string.  She didn't jump the string but I think that had more to do with the quietness of the longbow and the distance.

I tried to let things quiet down and reflected on such great hunt thus far, when I received a text from Brent.  "I think I just got a buck".  I tried to call but got no answer.  I started toward his stand at the top of the hill. 

As I came near his stand he was already on the ground and hollering for me that he had one down.  As I approached I crossed a blood trail and blind man could find! 

 

 

Brent was all grins and in front of him lay his prize.

 

 

What a great day!  We took time to snap some pictures, give thanks, and recreate the shot.  Brent was using a razorhead with the bleeders and that head did the job.  He hit the spike a little in front of the front shoulder but caught enough to get both lungs and a pass through. 

 

Congratulations Brent.  You are finally a real bowhunter!

 

 

 

It felt fantastic to have helped him attain this achievement.  It was a day to remember.

Goose'n The Longbow

Here in Maryland the season started Monday with squirrel, dove, and resident goose.

My brother and I try to get out and goose hunt this week before deer (and usually a western elk trip) to have a little fun body booting for geese on the Susquehanna flats. The weather and water is warm this time of year so wading without fear of hypothermia is a bonus! The last several years I have been trying to do it with the bow.

Mike Mongelli and I were hunting today with our Howard Hill longbows, and my brother and friend Tom were backing us up with the shotguns. We would have first crack at any birds that entered into range. They would mop up afterwards and assist if we had an arrowed bird that would not go down or wanted to swim off.

We got out and set up the decoys before shooting light...but we had to get up at 230 and drive 2 hours to get there to do it.

Once the dekes were in the water my brother anchored the boat near an island about 1/4 mile away and started the long wade back to the set.

All ready as the day began! ......and we soon heard honks in the distance........

 

Lots of action the water at this hour. There were several eagles and osprey all around as well as gulls, ducks (mallard and bufflehead), and a ton of comoranths to scare us every now and then. These invasive fish eaters can look an aweful lot like a goose sometimes.

It was quite a show and worth the lack of sleep even without the geese thus far....what a sunrise!

 

The group approached heading right for Mike.





Hearts pounding as Tom's calls from behind and the geese honking from in front started to reach the same volume and wing beats could be heard. At the last second they veered off to our right and passed out of range of our bows as we tracked them. we saw Chris shoulder and briefly fumble with his safety as he regained his composure and dusted the goose as it passed just on the edge of his effective range. The sharp sounding shot was heard...then a second after a deep boom as the sound waves bounced off the treeline on land and echoed back across the water. Great shot!

We had our first bird.

Soon after we retrieved that goose more were heard approaching. Tom and Chris started calling and here they come!

This time there were several small groups of 2 and 4. One group was passing similar to the first our of range to the right, one group was coming out of range to the left...but the middle three were coming right for us!


These were going to pass just off my port bow and I hunched up in the shadow of the box ready to draw. I picked out the closest bird and drew as it appeared and the arrow was on its way! I heard something odd and saw my arrow waggle oddly as it sailed a bit high and behind the bird. Dang, the lower limb hit the water....doh!...I was prepared to cant in order to clear the surface but as I followed the bird across the angle was too acute.

I never saw Mike's arrow as thunder erupted behind me as I struggled to get another arrow on the string and another bird was tumbling down to the surface from the shotgun blasts. Tom scored us more meat.

As it turned out, Mike was too busy watching the action as I shot and never cut loose his arrow.

Later my brother commented on how cool it looked from behind to watch my white arrow streak up into the flock as they past.

So it went for the next hour or so. Most of the small flocks would come in out bow range and the gunners would get some shots.

What a show it was just to be there and have an opportunity or two.

Our best shot opportunity came as the morning wore on. A loner came in from the side and was heading a little high but straight toward both Mike and I. I watched as Mike's arrow soared up and across the goose who waggled slightly in the air as the shaft passed by.....I had the bow really canted at this point and tried to pick a spot. As I released I felt the string hit my water logged and sagging shirt at the bicep (it was hanging low heavy with water)....dang! The gunners opened up but no hits this time.

I waded out to retrieve our arrows, picked up one, and I heard the guys say here it comes again! The goose circled back despite being shot at and it was going to pass right above me. I had no cover so I hunkered down in the water with just my head and my bow horizontal above the surface. This time I knew I would not screw up the shot. I saw the bird accelerate a little as Mike's arrows passed it again, but that was unknown to me as I was dead focused on good form this time and tracking the bird. The arrow was away and passed inches in front of the goose. It was our closest one yet and I could hear my brother OOOOOOOWH just before the guns opened up again. Bird number 3 was down and Mike and I had grins from ear to ear!

 

We ended up the day with Mike having 3 shots, I had 4 shots, and 3 dead geese by the shotgun. We both struggled at times to keep the longbow tips clear of the water on some of those opportunities and had some good practice at how to prevent it in the future. Man did we have some fun.

There were no other hunters out there that we saw.....I would bet we were the only bow hunters....and I know we had the most fun!

Remembering Bob Swinehart

An interesting news article upon his induction:
http://articles.mcall.com/2000-02-13/sports/3294724_1_big-game-bow-archery-hall

Bob Swinehart Is 50th Inductee In Archery Hall Of Fame The Late Emmaus Hunter Was The First Archer To Take Africa's Big 5.

February 13, 2000|by TOM FEGELY, The Morning Call

`I am convinced that Bob Swinehart is the best big game hunter I have had the pleasure of being with, on the trail and in the bush.`
archery legend Howard Hill

The late Bob Swinehart was inducted into the Archery Hall of Fame (AHF) at ceremonies held during the Archery Manufacturers Organization Trade Show in Indianapolis Jan. 29.
The posthumous induction of the Pottstown-born archer, who later made his home in Emmaus, brought back memories of the late 1960s when Swinehart, fresh from his conquest of Africa's `Big Five" with a longbow, hosted my seventh grade ecology classes in his home.
I recall his pleasant demeanor and modest ways with the youngsters as he showed them the African wildlife dioramas, photographs and collectibles scattered about his Emmaus residence. Only when asked did he speak of his archery pursuits, drawing his bow and arrows from a closet to show the wide-eyed youngsters.
Although Swinehart, president of an East Penn construction company, hunted deer and other North American game, his most astounding feat was taking a Cape buffalo, lion, rhinoceros, leopard and elephant, all with a traditional hunting gear. As the first man to take the Big Five with stickbow and arrow (the crude compound bow was still in its infancy at that time), Swinehart became the subject of numerous magazine articles and public appearances. He also appeared in Ripley's Believe it or Not.
Swinehart's dream of hunting in Africa began in his childhood years and in 1971 became the theme of `Sagittarius," the Emmaus archer's 240-page, profusely-illustrated autobiography on bowhunting big game -- from Pennsylvania whitetails and Colorado cougars to African kudu and, of course, its dangerous game.
Swinehart considered his meeting with legendary archer Howard Hill as `the turning point in my career,` according a story in the March 3, 1971 Morning Call. He brought Hill to the Emmaus Centennial Celebration in 1959, where he performed his bow-and-arrow precision in the high school football stadium, including hitting dimes tossed in the air.
But Swinehart, too, was later to become a respected archer who could also hit coins and shoot the bow with his feet. Hill was among the first to recognize his talent.
In the introduction to Sagittarius, Hill wrote: `He not only is an extremely good shot with the bow, but in addition has a great deal of patience, is a fine tracker and possesses great courage.`
But Hill was critical, perhaps light-heartedly, of Swinehart's over-consumption of Coke and pretzels. He carted 100 pounds of Bachman pretzels on his first Africa expedition and was said to eat at least a pound of them a day.
Swinehart's belated election into the archer's `hall` came 28 years after the first nominees -- Hill, Fred Bear and Ben Pearson -- were inducted. Other notables in the hall include Saxton Pope, Art Young, Earl Hoyt, Jr., Chuck Saunders, Jim Dougherty and Tom Jennings, among others. Rev. Stacey Groscup, who has made frequent appearances at sports and archery shows in the Lehigh Valley, was inducted prior to the official ceremonies making Swinehart the 50th member on the prestigious list.

Swinehart's daughter, Lisa Weida of Emmaus, accepted the award at the ceremonies attended by 1,300 guests and 19 Swinehart family members, including five of his six children.
`I didn't even know about (the Hall of Fame ) until a few years ago,` said Weida. `After that, poeple kept telling me `Your dad should be in there."
`I remember Daddy shooting in the backyard a lot, not because he had to practice but just because he so loved shooting the bow," Weida told induction attendees. `My father left us all with a love of wildlife, adventure and the outdoors."
AHF President Dave Staples of Easton said Swinehart's induction `was long overdue.`
`I remember best his ability to focus, his intensity and his sheer passion for archery," Staples recalls.
One of his contributions lives on in Emmaus at the Unami Fish & Game Association where Swinehart designed the region's first field archery course in the early 1950s. He served as club president in 1954. The hillside range, although redesigned, continues to host 3-D target shoots by the Traditional Bowhunters of Unami.
Coming full circle, it was Roy `Whitey` Lerch of Coopersburg, a longtime deputy wildlife conservation officer and a regular at the Unami longbow course, who nominated Swinehart for consideration for the AHF.
Swinehart's life was filled with adventure and challenge but it was the taking of Africa's Big Five that earned him a niche in bowhunting history and legend. The quest took him on eight safaris, including travels in Kenya, Angola, South Africa and Mozambique. While holding a healthy respect for the Cape buffalo, he considered the elephant as being the most dangerous of his quarry because of its strength and speed.

`You can't consciously feel fear while hunting big game animals," Swinehart, at age 42, told a reporter in 1971 upon the publication of Sagittarius. `If you do, you will do the wrong thing and you'll be a dead man."
Hill, who lived with the Swinehart family in Emmaus for a time, agreed. He said of Swinehart, following his taking of the five animals: `I was confident that he would accomplish the task, providing he did not get himself killed first. My only criticism of him was that he took too many risks. Somehow he survived Africa after a score of near burials."

Sneaking to within yards of leopards and lions, outracing buffalo before they cut him of from his vehicle and sending arrows sufficiently true to down a rhino and elephant all underscore the dangers inherent in Swinehart's quest, which he completed in 1966 in Angola.
Although a mere 170 pounds and standing 5-feet, 10-inches, the Emmaus archer was capable of pulling 100 pounds on his 5-foot wood bow. His strength, said Hill, `was prodigious."
`Sagittarius took archery out of the cornfield and made it global,` Staples said of Swinehart's influence. `Bob was at the front end of modern bowhunting which is bigger than ever today and we all continue to learn from him.`
Swinehart died in Pottstown in May 1982 at age 54.
The AHF is located in a modest setting in Angola, Ind. and will be the focus of a fund-raising and building program beginning this year, Staples said.