1st Leg of the IBO National Triple Crown

  As we all know, this spring and early summer haven't been what we have become accustomed to over the years. I've always found myself traveling to a lot of archery tournaments as I prepared for the  IBO National Triple Crown. I've always tried getting in as many tournaments as possible to see a lot of different targets and target sets. If I see a lot of targets, I'm able to register things in my mind to go back to as the season progresses.

  Unfortunately, I didn't have that opportunity this year, so I headed to West Virginia to try my hand at a national event without one unknown yardage tournament under my belt for the year. The last unknown event I participated in was the IBO World Championship last year. Although I didn't get much practice in, I always expect a lot from myself and felt like I could still hold my own without any practice. I did shoot my own targets, but we all know that's not the same as going places to shoot.

  I went to the tournament with Barry Gates and Jeff Wagoner. We had a great time and made the most of our time away. We got to try out Barry's new truck, and it passed with flying colors. I've always enjoyed traveling to and from the shoots. Although the trips are long and boring, some unforgettable laughs come to the forefront on every trip. It's something I will cherish for as long as I live. Friends, family and fun are things that can't be matched when it comes to archery.

                                                            The Arrival

  When we showed up at Pipestem State Park in West Virginia, we were greeted with an almost unbearable noise. Cicadas had emerged from the ground, and were giving us the best songs they could sing -- and the songs weren't pleasant. The noise was never-ending, and it was deafening at times. After I began shooting, it became background noise, but it is something I will never forget.


                                                             Go Time

  Jeff and I headed to the range to get 20 targets under our belt after shooting a few arrows at the target butt. When I fired my first three arrows, I couldn't figure out why I was hitting about six inches low. It unnerved me when I saw the arrows grouping well but low. As I stepped off the line and moved toward my stool, I suddenly identified the problem: I had left my bow-pod on the bottom limb while shooting. After taking it off, my arrows all grouped well in the spot. For many years, I've always made fun of people who do that and don't notice it. I"m still not sure how I didn't notice it. I guess I just have too many things going on lately, and my mental awareness has been taking a hit over the last several weeks.

  When we got to the tent, we had to wait a few minutes to get assigned into a group. When I saw who we were going to shoot with, I wasn't too terribly excited to get going. We were shooting with a guy who has been around as long as me, and the guy really likes himself. He also likes to jabber nonstop. I've never been a fan.

  When I walked across the golf course to the first target and took a look at it, I knew I wasn't going to shoot the shot. The entire kill zone was blocked by a huge branch sticking up from the ground. We all agreed that the target couldn't be shot from that location. I volunteered to head back to the tent to get someone to take a look at it. After getting halfway to the tent, I could hear the people in my group yelling to me to return.

  When I got back to them, they told me that we were looking at the last target of the course. They pointed up the hill at an antelope and told me that was the first target. Jeff got off to a good start by placing an arrow in the middle of the 11. I barely caught a 10 on the low side. The placement of the arrow concerned me because I thought I had a good number, and I made a good shot.

  Heading toward the second target, I began doubting my range-finding abilities for the day. Then, looking at mountain lion that was in between two trees up a gradual hill and on a flat in some dark timber, I knew it was going to be tough to hit. When Jeff hit it a little bit high, I subtracted some yardage off from my original guess. The pin settled nicely, and the shot fired. The arrow found a home an inch above the 11.

  When I got to the strutting turkey a few targets later, I was glad that I would be getting it out of the way early. I knew after I shot it, I wouldn't have to see another turkey during the tournament. When I glanced at it, I knew it was one of those difference makers that gets put on national courses. The target was there to separate scores. It was a bomb. Anything above an 8 would be a bonus. My pin settled perfectly on an arrow that was in the 10-ring. Amazingly, the pin didn't move. When the bow finally fired, the arrow struck slightly below the 11. It was an incredible shot, one I can still feel as I type right now. It was one of those blind bale shots that finds its way onto the range.

  As we meandered through the course, I managed to shoot 10s for a while, but had a hard time capturing any 11s. The man in our group was one of the most disrespectful people I've ever shot with in all of the years of my shooting. It's hard to believe he's related to a professional. I knew it was coming when he was put into our group, so I tried to mentally prepare for it between the tent and the first stake. Unfortunately, the walk was only about 150 yards to get prepared.

  As the day wore on, I couldn't focus at all. He would stand behind me and talk nonstop while I was at full draw. He would try to engage in conversation with everyone around him, people in our group and the other groups nearby. He wouldn't stop talking when I was at full draw, even when Jeff purposely ignored him. Amazingly, he only did it a few times while Jeff was shooting.

  Everyone is probably wondering why I didn't say anything. Well, I picked my poison and decided that if I said anything, thing probably would have gotten worse. He's the kind of guy who instigates and antagonizes if he knows he's bothering you. I've seen him in action. I figured he might have matured over the years, but in his 60s, he's still the same as he has always been.

  When the day came to an end, I was four down at 196. I had shot four 8s and four 11s. Every 8 was less than 1/2 inch out. Two of them hit at 12 o'clock, and the other two hit at 6 o'clock. The first one happened on the brown floppy bear, and it was a slam-dunk shot. It had 11 written all over it. The man was jabbering in my ear, and I found myself listening to the dumb conversation. I lost focus and missed the shot. The arrow hit where the pin was sitting. The other high miss was on a small deer on a gradual downhill slope. The target was leaning considerably forward. I barely missed the 10, but the lean caused it to land outside of the ring. If it had been upright, I'm pretty sure I would've gotten it. I backed that up with another 8 on the next target, a bedded ram. The pin dip-banged when it fired, and we had to get on our hands and knees to determine if it was in or out. I needed the next shaft size to secure a 10. When we got to the second to last target of the day, a Corsican ram, I made an incredible shot. The pin locked on a shot-out spot, and the bow fired. I saw the nock appear in the middle of the 11. The shot felt incredible.

  Walking to the last target, a bedded buck, I knew I could get off the course at one down. I figured I would easily shoot an 11 on it and move off the range. Unfortunately, I overheld the shot, hitting it low. Although I couldn't call it in, I was pissed at myself and probably stole points from myself. I called it out, although the angle of the arrow made it touch the line about an inch from where the point had it. The point was out, but the arrow was touching. Being pissed, I called it out. In hindsight, I probably should have called it as it should've been called. That should sum up my mood for the day. I just wanted to get off the range. The two guys we were shooting with were driving me crazy. I felt fortunate to get off the range with the score that I put up. I knew it should've been much better, but I took it and ran. When they asked to meet us to shoot the last 20 the next morning, I declined.

  When we got back to the truck, we found out that Barry had shot with the wife of the man in our group. He said she talked nonstop, too. I decided to call it a day and shoot the last 20 the next day with a fresh mind. Although the course had some tough shots, I thought it was relatively soft. The back and forth sight moving in the beginning made it tough, then a stretch where most of the targets were really similar yardages. Those stretches can play mind games on even the best 3D archers. The next day the woman told Barry that her husband and his friend shot with two snooty guys who didn't talk much. Gee, I wonder why we weren't talking. Etiquette must be an overrated thing these days.

  Before we packed it in for the night, I asked Jacob how his debut went in the pro class. He said he just couldn't catch a break. He said he broke good shots, but didn't have any luck. We ended up having very similar days. He ended with a 195/3 and I ended with a 196/4. Neither one of us was too terribly excited about our debut.

                                                                Day 2

  Jeff and I shot about 10 practice arrows and headed to the tent first thing in the morning. We were quickly assigned a group, getting one crossbow guy from Texas and a guy from Virginia. Jeff started off right where he left off and drilled the brown bear on the first shot. I followed his lead and got off the first two targets with two 10s. Like the day before, I started off a little short with my estimations, catching the bottom of the 10-ring.

  When I walked to the top of the hill for the third target, I saw a boar down the hill. It was a no-doubter for me. I instantly knew it was all of it.  I dialed my sight and waited. Then, I looked at the guy from Virginia, and he wasn't looking at the boar. He as looking at the target I had missed. It was a coyote that was on the edge of a green on the golf course. It was a downhill shot, and it wasn't hard to get the number. It was pretty similar to the boar I had just looked at, so I didn't need to move my sight.

  The guy from Virginia led off with a 10 at 9 o'clock. As I watched Jeff come to full draw, I put my head down to listen. I just wanted to confirm the distance by listening to his bow go off and hearing the arrow hit. It's something I always do on the longer shots.

  When his bow fired, I never heard the confirmation of a hit from the target. He walked off the stake in a dejected manner. His mind had thought about letting down, and in that moment in time, the wheels fell off the buss. The bow drifted to the right and fired. The arrow landed in the bank under the coyote's chin.

  As I passed him on my way to the stake, I felt really bad for him. I also knew he was still in good shape. With that zero, he was only down 3 points, and we still had 17 targets left to shoot. He was still in the hunt for the win, and he could easily get back to even with some solid shooting. I let his misfortune eat at my conscience while I stood at the stake. Although I knew the distance to the target, I kept thinking about how badly I felt for Jeff. I always cheer my friends on, and he was having a great tournament. It felt awful to watch what had just transpired.

  When I drew my bow and came to full draw, the pin settled nicely at the black spot in the top of the 11-ring. As the pin sat there, I waited for the bow to fire. The shot took longer than I anticipated and started to break down. Although it wasn't the best shot when it fired, it wasn't one that would find its way out of the 10. I figured I would hit the bottom of the 10. When I heard the arrow strike the target and watch it ricochet off the belly, I couldn't figure out what went wrong. I was beside myself. Instantly, I went to 14 down. Walking back to my stool, I looked at my bow and noticed the bow-pod was still attached to the bottom limb. I had never taken it off when I shot. I guess I can call it a senior moment. I've never done that in my life, and now I had done it twice in two days. The answer to my miss was staring me in the face. I wanted to crawl in a hole. I knew all of my chances went up in smoke with a dumb mistake that never should have been made.

  Walking to the next stake, I made a plan. I figured I I could somehow get back to 10 down for the tournament, I would be satisfied. I figured it might put me in the top  five too. I focused as hard as I could for the rest of that course and made some fantastic shots. I ended up getting off the course at 7 down with a miss. I had made three of the points back up and only had one to go to get to where I wanted to be.

                                                           The Last 10

  When I walked up to the impala to start the last 10 targets, I knew it was a tough shot. Since I've shot the target so many times at my house, the number kind of jumped out at me. I executed a great shot and scored a solid 10. It hit just over the 11-ring.  Moving through the course, I made some of the best shots I can ever remember. I stroked a great shot into the cheetah and moved on from there to execute a picture-perfect shot on the bedded white Dahl. Feeling confident about the direction I was heading in, I thought I might be able to run off one of those streaks I've had in the past and 10 out. All of those thoughts were dashed when I got to a long black panther. I couldn't see it that well and my shot broke low. It wasn't a great shot. When I got to the target, it was no more than a fingernail width out of the 10-ring at 6 o'clock, right where the pin was sitting when the shot broke.

  When I came upon a javelina a few targets later, I knew it was another target that was put there to make a difference. It was a poke, but I love shooting at javelinas. I made my best shot of the weekend on the javelina, and the arrow hit directly behind the pin. Unfortunately, I was aiming at the wrong white dot and got a 10 instead of a 11. It was a fantastic shot, the type you dream about making when you're under pressure.

  The last target of the day was a bedded doe behind a log. I made a great shot, and the arrow hit behind the pin. I thought I had drilled the 11. When we pulled arrows, I realized I had barely missed it to the right. I was really disappointed because the arrow had hit right where I aimed. When it was all said and done, I had gained the points back that I wanted to after shooting the zero. I ended the day at 195 with a miss. I shot a zero caused by a dumb mistake, and one 8 for the day, and the 8 was due to a less-than-perfect shot. I'll take that for my first 3D shoot of the year. I wish that I could've gotten to some shoots before heading to this one, but it just wasn't possible this year. I guess finishing tied for seventh isn't too bad for shooting a zero at a national event.






                                                       Kudos to the Kays

  I talked to Ted a few weeks ago, as he has called me a few times to check on my dad. I'm appreciative of friends like that. When people reach out to me with concerns about my dad, I'm very grateful. My dad is my hero, and it has been hard to watch him struggle through this battle he's been fighting. I feel very fortunate that he's such a tough son of a gun. I admire his strength, tenacity and will to overcome. I could only wish I had some of the same internal strength that he has always displayed. There are tough people out there, but he's one of the toughest I've ever seen.

  Anyhow, I've always been taught that when you do good things, good things will happen to you. Although I have the ability to tell people off and tell it like it is, I also respect people who respect me. I was super excited to see that Ted Kay when the Bowhunter Defense Shootoff. Ted did good deeds leading up to the shoot, and it came back to him. When we spoke a few weeks before the shoot, he told me they weren't going to go to the shoot. I was disappointed, as I have seen the for as long as I can remember. It just wouldn't be the same without them. Great job, Ted. I wish I could've seen it.

  Not only did Ted win the big money, Sara took home a national win, too! She got the job done in her class and showed the other ladies how to do it. Sometimes when we win, it can be ugly, but a win is a win no matter how we get it. I was hoping with all my might to podium with my miss, but when I wasn't able to get there, I was happy to see that Sara was bringing the gold home to New England. Great job, Sara. I hope you get another one at the next one.

                  

                                                Highlight of the Week

  Jacob made a great run the second day to get into the pro shootoff, but he came up a little bit short. He shot a 210/12 and ended at 405, just missing the top 5 by a point. We are both satisfied with our debuts and hope to actually get some practice in before we head into the rest of the summer. I'll be cheering him on from the sideline. Hopefully, his hard work earns him a spot in some of the shootoffs.

  Well, as I was working this morning, I heard a noise outdoors. I looked outside and this is what I saw.





  Chuck Weeden let me borrow his daughter's bow so Dad could try to shoot it. It's set at 30 pounds, and he was able to shoot some arrows. We need to put his module in it to get the draw length right, but these pictures right here make my heart happy. Looking at the pictures reminds me of the day I walked on the path about 20 yards up the hill from where he's standing and cried as I returned to the shooting line. I had put an arrow through the center of his recurve bow when I shot an arrow out of his new compound. That day started my journey with compound bows, as he went out and bought me my own compound the next day. I'll be forever thankful for that.

  I wish all of you luck the rest of the summer. Cherish every day................each and every one of the is fleeting. Remember to enjoy archery, even on your bad days. Remember how luck you are just to pull your bow back and shoot arrows. Many people who want to do that can't do it. Instead if putting so much pressure on yourself to succeed, try to fully enjoy having the ability to do what you love -- shoot arrows.