Archery in Takayama

This is one I couldn’t resist. Strolling around Takayama on my first night, I happened on this small storefront place. Apparently, testing ones archery skills was popular in Japan years ago.

I have a history, passed down from my father. He was a skilled archer. For a time, in our small town in Michigan, he and his friend, Charles, had their own archery company. They ran it out of Charles’ garage. They made arrows, painted them, glued on the fletching, and affixed the field tips for shooting at targets or deadly sharp points for hunting. They mailed boxes of these around the country. Sadly, it did not last.

Their more lasting archery legacy was to host the National Field Archery Tournament in the early 1950’s in the woods near our town. People came from as far away as California to participate.

I was a big disappointment as an archer, unlike my older brother. Nevertheless, I gave it a try. I went “hunting” one sunny day. I had no patience. I was tromping around through the woods, making a racket that every deer for miles could have heard. Still, I looked up and what did I see but a herd of deer standing in front of me, within range, and seemingly oblivious to my lack of hunting prowess. I notched the arrow on the string of my bow and raised it to shoot.

I let the arrow fly! It flew – far above the heads of the herd! I lowered the bow and knew, in the same moment, that I didn’t have it in me to kill such a wonderful creature. I walked down the road and back home. I never tried hunting again.

I still have the bow I used as well as the quiver and arrows I had with me that day. The bow had been a graduation gift to me from Charles and my father. They are of my most cherished possessions.

So that is my archery legacy. I believe that this night in Takayama was the first since my “hunt” that I drew back the string and let fly.

I had as little succss tonight. Of the ten arrows I released, only two hit the target. Still, it was thrilling for me! What a gift from another small town far away from Tawas, the little town in Michigan where I grew up.