Traditional archery: The witchery of instinctive shooting

Traditional archery is a catch-all term for the more historical, less-modern approaches to shooting a bow and arrow.

World Archery includes both ‘traditional’ and ‘instinctive’ categories on the programme of the biennial World Archery 3D Championships – which will take place at the end of this month in Slovenia – putting some international spotlight on this sneaky popular format of the sport.

As far back as I can remember, I’ve always had a bow in my hand.

Whether I was running around the farm with just a primitive self-made bow from my dad or a top-end takedown from Bear. Archery has always meant far more to me than trophies and scores.

I’ve done my fair share of county tournaments, soggy field competitions and freezing-cold Sunday mornings at the club. But as a junior I was forever getting in trouble at my club for not scoring. Handicaps and records were just not something that interested me.

All I wanted to do was shoot.

During the school holidays, I’d be in a field somewhere from early morning ’til late at night, happily slinging arrows downrange, a contented look on my face. I loved it. But there was a tiny piece of the puzzle missing…

Now it has been a long time since I’ve believed in magic. A long time since my dad would magically pull coins out of my ear, since believing in fantasy wizards, before we all needed to grow up.

But every time I stand there looking at my target, staring at it, burning a hole in it, whether it’s an old rotting tree stump or a beautifully-sculpted 3D, the feeling is the same.

The feeling that as I draw the bow, as time slows down, my breath hanging in the air, the slight creak of my leather shooting glove as I anchor, feeling the tension in my back and the tunnel vision as all that exists in the world is that spot dead-centre of the target.

Then the release, that perfect release.

The one I’ve practised a 1000 times before.

And I watch the arrow arc beautifully through the air…

…and miss completely.

But that’s okay, that’s the game – and it’s rare for me to miss twice. There’s equipment and technical bits to worry about with other forms of archery, this is so uncomplicated, just me to fix. It makes the time when you send that arrow downrange and it hits feels like magic.

You watch, draw, let your body and brain make the subconscious calculations. And if you hit with the same precision as a compounder (even just once), it’s one of the greatest feelings an archer can get.

Traditional archers are the minority in Britain.

It’s growing, though. There’s a dedicated following diligently spreading the word, educating and encouraging people wherever they can. Meeting a new one of us out on the field course is an instant bond, a brother- (or sister-)hood of the enlightened.

Only we know that the only obstacle between the archer and target is… us.

A shared understanding that you just need to look, draw and trust – to make that perfect shot.

That’s the beauty of it all. It’s archery in its purest form.

There’s something so freeing about being able to grab your bow, a quiver full of arrows and spend a day lost in the woods. The stress and worries dissipate.

I look at the other archers stressing over scores. That doesn’t happen in our traditional scene.

We’ve all had those days where we couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn. But there’s always a smile on our faces. A wiser man once said, “a bad day shooting is still better than a good day at work”.

It’s for the love of it.

I am incredible passionate about traditional archery. You might have guessed.

Something changes in a person, I think, when you discover it. It scratches an itch you didn’t know you had.

There’s a need to return, to enjoy it more, a passion that keeps you picking up that bow, day after day, week after week. There’s so much exploration. There’s so much to learn. There’s such depth.

And yet it’s still so simple.

As you stand there, burning that hole in the target with your gaze, and you let that arrow fly, it arcs through the air…

…and it hits dead-centre.

It’s all paid off. 

Maybe there is such a thing as magic.