Watch out, Robin Hood! Here comes competition.

The bull's-eyes say it all: She's a natural at archery, just like her grandfather.

By Leigh Ann Henion

from the May 18, 2007 edition

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I consider myself a good sport. But my sporting ability – well, that's another matter. Two other prospective archers, Melissa and Irene, are standing in front of me at an archery range in England. They look as though they know what they're doing, and, even though their arrows are not quite making it to the target, I'm impressed.

"Consistency is important," our instructor, Chris, says as Irene shoots an arrow into the soft moor in front of her.

"Well, I've been pretty consistent," she says, laughing. Her arrow has joined those from her previous attempts – nearly five feet from the bull's-eye. I hope I can do as well.

Melissa is doing a little better. "I feel like I'm in a movie," she says. "It feels like I'm the cool female heroine. It's so ... Robin Hood." She pulls back to give the catchall net behind the target another arrow.

Then, all too soon, it's my turn to shoot.

"Don't worry. It's just like playing an instrument," Chris says as he hands me the first bow I've ever held. His remark doesn't help my confidence since, despite years of violin and guitar lessons, I've never been able to master a stringed anything.

But then Chris lets us in on a little archery-related history that captures my imagination. He makes a backward peace sign with his right hand and says, "This is considered a rude gesture in England, but it's actually an old war signal that means 'I've still got my archery fingers and I'm still in this, so watch out.' "

I can't help but glance down at my hands, archery fingers intact. OK, I think to myself, here it goes.

The line grows taut under my gloved fingers. I aim with one eye closed. I shoot. I score. I try again, thinking it is a fluke, but it's not. I am good. Behind me, Melissa and Irene gasp, filling the air between my shots with comments such as, "This must be in your blood!"

I find myself shooting faster and faster until my pouch of arrows is depleted. Out of my 15 arrows, only two of them don't make it to the target. This is so much fun I could do it for hours, days, maybe even weeks at a time.

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