If the magazine caters to the majority of bowhunters, the article’s author will most likely extol the virtues of the latest and greatest in compound bow technology, such as percentage of let-off, cam shape, cable material, riser material and shape, carbon arrows, fletching vanes, feet per second, etc. Don’t forget the sure-fire bowhunting success gadgetry like electronic aiming devices, electronic rangefinders, bowstring release triggers, etc. But then, if the periodical is dedicated to the more traditional side of the game; i.e., hunting with recurve bows, long bows, self bows, Indian flat bows, wood arrows with feather fletching, then the opposing view will probably be proffered.

I tend to lean toward the more traditional bowhunting tackle; I shoot a Black Widow recurve and a Howard Hill longbow. I use a bow quiver on the recurve and a leather back quiver with the longbow. I prefer to hunt with home-made cedar arrows with feathers that I burn to size and shape and glue-on Zwickey or Wolverine broadheads. I twist up my own bowstrings. I don’t use a sight (can’t judge distance that well, anyway), which forces me to get pretty close before I feel comfortable making an instinctive shot. I prefer wool to fleece (own both), plaid to camo (own both), hunting into the wind to cover scents. However, I am not what some technophiles would call an elitist. I have my old-fashioned streak, but I have no problem sharing a camp fire or a tent with a fella and his high tech, “wheelie” bow. I just believe that if a man or woman determines to chase after game with a bow, what matters is that she or he practices with whatever sort of equipment he/she chooses, finds his/her operative reach, and does not strain to shoot beyond it.

So, why am I writing this article about technology versus tradition? Well, as a traditionalist when it comes to bow and arrow, I gotta’ tell you, when it comes to safety and survival, give me the high tech stuff anytime! There was a time when I figured all I needed was a topo map and my trusty compass; did fine with them for quite a few years. That’s probably because I am blessed with a pretty decent sense of direction and because I hunted in the same area for several years. BUT…..

About ten years ago, my buddy and I decided to check out an area called Trophy Illinois Hunts with which we were not so familiar. As bow hunters much tend to act, we got out of the truck and instantly split up (two guys make 3 times the racket a single bowhunter makes). Later, after coming in the forest to the west of the road and striding a couple hundred yards, I saw and followed a game trail southward in what I supposed was a duplicate with the logging road we drove in on. I pussyfooted through the area for about three hours, covering probably only a couple of miles, and then I decided to head back to the truck in order to meet up with my buddy at the agreed-upon time. I still don’t know what possessed me, but instead of simply back-tracking the way I had come, I decided to head east toward the logging road with the intention of crossing it and hunting the other side of the road back to the truck. What I didn’t know was the trail I had been hunting did not parallel the road exactly; it was actually on about a 45 degree angle southwest to it. Anyway, I slowly headed in the direction of the road expecting to reach it in a few hundred yards; I didn’t. And then, I shrugged and gone up the incoming ridgeline – still no road. I trudged down to the valley and up the next ridge – still no road. Now I was a bit concerned; so, I opened my pack to get out my topo – not in there; not in my pockets. I had left it on the dashboard of my friend’s truck! I hate that when it happens! I brought out my compass. I was, actually, manoeuvring east…well, more like southeastern, notwithstanding where in the world was that darned road? Should I go back the way I had come? By now I was even starting to doubt my compass and my sense of direction. I started to whistle and yell in hopes that my buddy or someone who knew where the heck he was would hear and come to guide me out of the forest. No reaction. After I calmed down a little, I decided to continue on the way I was going. After another hour of climbing up over landed trees and four or five more ridges, I at long last saw the road. I pursued north on it, but I got to a fork I did not recollect. Not knowing which path to turn at the fork, I just begged that I was on the main road, turned around and walked the 5 miles back to camp. My friend showed up in camp about an hour later intending to get our two other friends to go looking for me. I was pretty embarrassed to say the least.

I swore that wasn’t going to happen to me again. Before the next bowhunting season my family and I moved to Colorado. My fabulous wife also bought me a Garmin GPS (global positioning system) from Cabela’s for Christmas. And boy, did that come in handy a few years ago! I was hunting for the first time on the Uncompaghre Plateau in western Colorado. It had been raining down like mad for a good deal of the trip. While I was in the forest (very thick stands of aspen and spruce) a few miles from camp, it not only started raining again, it became socked in with fog. I got pretty nervous because I could barely see where I was going. Fortunately, in my pack was my GPS, into which I had entered a way point for our camp site the minute we arrived earlier that week. I was able to walk through thick woods, dense fog, and torrential rain directly to camp. Sure Enough, I nevertheless hold a topo of any domain I hunt in my pocket and the compass in my bag as backup, but will I ever embark into the forest again without my GPS? Highly unlikely! It is as much a part of my survival tools as the first aid kit and fire starters in my pack.

I plan to purchase a PSE compound bow now that my son will start hunting with me next season.

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