There was no wind. The skies were clear and the sun was still low enough to keep the temperatures comfortable. Morning shadows were long but growing shorter with the passing moments of a new day. It was going to be a perfect day-off for some archery.
Mentally, I checked off all of my gear. My crossbow was loaded in its case. I had it checked out the day before and it was lubricated, operational and ready for some long-range shooting.
My Calwell stand was folded and neatly stowed in my pick-up bed. It was now becoming a familiar tool and I could quickly adjust it from several backyard practices. Holding the bow steady while I sighted in the scope was a snap with this quality piece of equipment. All doubt about accuracy were dispelled when this stand was rock solid.
A plastic garbage bin held my field pointed bolts. There were plenty for lots of shooting and less retrieving. In my miscellaneous bag was a field quiver but this would be perfect.
Then, I threw in a folding field chair. Sitting on this stand was the perfect height for use with my Calwell stand. There would be no excuse for exact deliver of a bolt to the target.
Of course I needed my layered foam target. It promised to hold my bolts and stop them from being lost in the tall grass. At least that was my hope.
My backyard only allows for shooting at a maximum of 20 yards. This trip would take me out to a field to try shots of 30 and 40 yards. If I missed this target, most likely I would lose the bolts in the ground and tall grass.
Once out in the field, I set up my custom target range for 30 yards. That would be a 50% increase from my past experience. My bow was cocked and bolted. Comfortably seated and with correct posture, I breathed deeply. Exhaling once my scope cross-hairs were aligned on my target, I squeezed the trigger.
On a crossbow the force is sent forward. There is no recoil. Mentally, everything was concentrating on the small target ahead. Our mind is an amazing highlight of God’s creation.
At a blistering speed of 330 feet per second I never saw the bolt’s flight. All I saw was my foam target jump back sharply. With binoculars the satisfaction of a bull’s-eye was smile-breaking. At 40 yards the smile was even broader.
photo credit: brucefong cellphone photography