Sorry I've been away, but I've finally picked up an amazing new hobby I've been longing for: archery. My father collects antique weaponry, so he went to a show looking for pieces for a 19th century restoration he's working. While he was there he met a vendor selling off several bows and a few quivers full of arrows for a ridiculously low price.
It's proof that he actually listens to my nonsensical chatterings and I am now the proud owner of a 28 inch, 50 pound recurve hunting bow. The poundage is how much force the bow provides when you pull it back the correct amount of inches, in this case 28. I went to the archery range yesterday and actually hit the target a few times, but also discovered that I have weak, girly wrists. I ended up wearing leather arm bracers from my Renaissance Faire days to support my wrists and protect me from the bowstring as it snapped forward. I had some leather scraps from other historical pursuits, so I made myself little finger covers to keep me from cutting up my right hand when I pull the string back.
When I consider the fact that the yeomen of the middle ages used bows with 100 pounds of force it amazes me. The more force the tighter the bow string and the harder it is to string. My 50 pounder took three people to string all variously holding the end, curving the top and pulling up the string. My brother, enlisted to the task, told me I have to be careful not to break the string because he is never doing that again. Ever.
With my ridiculous schedule I'm not sure if I can get a regular practice schedule but my dad said, "Sometimes you'll need to get away." Proof of how well that man knows me, I can think of no better way to unwind.
No comments:
Post a Comment