Trial and arrow: A lesson in archery

This past weekend was Girlfriends Getaway in Freeport. The gal-centric event included psychic readings at Leapin' Lizards, cocktails at Venue and shop sales to entice that rare and elusive lady shopper.

It also included some freebie learning opportunities at the Hunting and Fishing wing at LL Bean. And while I can very much use some insight from Madam Clairvoyant (regarding an impulsive decision to schedule a Monday-night haircut even though Wednesday has always been considered my best day for positive change, financial matters and shampooing) my pal Liz and I headed to the indoor archery range instead.

Girlfriends Getaway quickly became "Girlfriends! Get away!" Like something you might yell out to a friend who's absentmindedly standing in the path of a falling tree limb or runaway sled.

Or a warning to all the innocents perusing the fleece zipups and winter mittens in the ladies department. Look out, there's a novice on the range.

LL Bean's slender indoor range is ironically inconspicuous behind the racks of crossbows and camouflage.

Inside, instructor Linda gave us a rundown on the basics: a consistent pullback, proper stance and a relaxed bow arm.

We donned the protective arm guards and finger tabs and Linda, bless her unwitting heart, handed me a bow.

I pushed aside a growing fear that the bowstring might snap and - in it's terror - flail about like a live wire, ultimately slicing my ear off. Instead, I followed Linda's instructions, nocking the arrow, raising and drawing the bow and willing my ear to move out of the way.

My first arrow whizzed clear over the target. My second and third dove into the stack of white paper behind the target. I could blame my poor aim, but I suspect the bullseye was mumbling threats in the arrow's direction ("Puncture me and I break your wife and kids in half!"). Poor guys were just scared.

Liz proved an archer master in no time - hitting damn close to a bullseye after only a couple of tries.

I managed to hit the target only twice, but my misses were impressive in their consistency. They huddled together in the upper right corner of the paper backstop, like separated kin who were overjoyed to find one another again.

Toxophilite I may not be, but I learned enough archery-related terminology to get by should I find myself confronted by an LL Bean salesperson whilst loitering in the Hunting & Fishing wing taking photos of the taxidermy.

"Ah, yes. I was simply admiring these arrow fletchings. I'm rather fond of the barred hen feathers on this aluminum model, though I prefer carbon fiber myself."