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A Tribute to the 2010 Tennessee Classic

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Ranger B:
Some people like chipping rock and bending wood better than pecan pie. I gathered with them in a little valley south of Clarksville, Tennessee this weekend. I watched their satisfaction as they quenched a thirst, pulling a drawknife and carefully scrapping around knots, and I wondered what about being there made them the happiest.

I walked off the hill Friday afternoon and looked down on a flurry of activity at Twin Oaks and I thought how interesting it is that so many people can be brought so closely together by an enthusiasm for traditional archery and napping. Later that evening I sat at a table and watched my friend Jesse’s father blow pure passion through a harmonica as others strummed guitars with closed eyes and sang everything from Earl Skruggs to Skynyrd. It occurred to me at that point that this gathering, this primitive rendezvous, was more about the people than the wood and rock that brought them together.

For the better part of a week kindred souls smiled, hugged, shook hands and got to know one another. For some it was time to catch up since last May. For others it was a chance to associate a real live person with an Internet name. As greetings were exchanged the most common question surfaced, “It’s good to meet you. Now what is your PA handle?”

Names like Ridgerunner, nocams, hillbilly, cowboy, mullet, calendargirl, DanaM, GregB, wolfwatcher, Big A, cracker and The singing bowyer were given. First timers and repeat offenders alike soon asked where Pappy was so they could thank him for opening up his farm and being such a gracious host. Gifts are never expected but almost always exchanged. Wolfwatcher said he was given so much last year that he felt guilty leaving so he worked hard on some beautiful leather work to square things up. He drove in this year feeling pretty good about himself as he handed out return gifts only to receive a knife from GregB with ten minutes of arriving. “Heck, you can’t get ahead with these people,” he told me.

If generosity had a price the Twin Oaks crew would be worth a billion. They cut firewood and stacked it for free, they collected everyone’s trash and hauled it off, when the rains came they handed out straw, they laid out bows and they gave more advice than Dr. Phil, they set up showers and porta-potties, they did it all and they did it for free. Where else does that exist in the world today?
It’s a special place – that valley. A place where little boys want to be just like their daddies, where sweet little girls can be seen with pink feathers on their arrows. As for me it’s those people that I like. Yes, a lot of rocks became weapons and trees became bows but what was most rewarding was seeing their expressions over the vice and their conversations as they filed and scrapped. I found friendship at Twin Oaks. A unique friendship that is sadly not so common in the world today. I guess that’s why we cherish our little primitive gathering, and that’s why I’ll always do whatever I can to make sure I’m always present for the Classic. Until next year….

FlintWalker:
Amen brother!

Josh:
wow that was well written, it is EXACTLY how I feel about it all too.  I really enjoyed meeting everyone at the Classic and thanks to all that worked so hard to make it what it was.  i have never had a better time anywhere than there.  Looking forward to next year already!   :)  -josh

Pat B:
You nailed it Jimmy! With all the other "stuff" going on it is definitely the people that bring me and everyone else back. Thanks for sharing your thoughts again with us.  8)

sailordad:
sheesh RangerB that was very well written indeed
i was unable to go this year,so it is kinda like rubbing salt into an open wound
but also makes me want to get there even more next year.
i will take the rub of salt as i know how sweet it will be next year when i WILL be at the classic

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