So my bow arrived today. I bought it on eBay. A fine older bow, a PSE Carroll Intruder. $125 for the whole kit and caboodle. The arrows are a motley lot, the trigger release looks a little worn but works, the bow itself draws smooth, but 70#'s is more than I thought it would be. If I draw correctly using my back muscles it is easier, so maybe that's a good thing. Sometimes you choose a tool that forces you to learn good form.
It's this huge box, twice the size needed, sitting in my office when I get in. The office mates all wonder "what the hell is that?" Their jaws drop, or they laugh when I tell them. "What the fuck for?" they ask. No one here hunts. Few even know any hunters. The word "hunter" sticks in their throats - mine too I must admit. I'm a freak. Crackpot survivalist or budding psychopath take my pick. (Crackpot survivalist if anyone asks...) Of course, this is a dot-com, located in Chelsea district of in New York city, and the only thing most of the folks here have ever shot is the video game gun attached to their Nintendo, so I guess that makes some sense.
I leave the arrows and broad heads at the office, and take the bow home on the subway. I figure I will probably get searched carrying the big camo bag on the train, and best not to have the arrows. (Large bags are subject to search on NYC subway lines as a post 9/11 security precaution.)
I'm still not used to camouflage, it irks me somehow. Here, ironically, it marks you, leaving me uncomfortably visible.
No comments:
Post a Comment