The Father of Modern Bowhunting

VR headsets, AI chatbots, augmented reality, the metaverse. The world is headed in a very specific, digital direction.

Screen time for younger generations has risen to over seven hours a day, and we shouldn’t be surprised by the damage. Mental health issues are skyrocketing, addiction is out of control, and many kids lack basic social skills. Our current solution? More laws, more pills, or a trip to one of our fine state’s many dispensaries. We’re dulling the pain and our minds in the process.

Fred Bear had a different solution.

For most of human history, a man’s survival depended on his mastery of skills, not his proficiency with a computer. Most of his life was spent outside, trying to address his basic needs: food, water, shelter. Skills like hunting, foraging, and navigating the land were essential for survival. Staying alive required understanding the environment.

As the father of modern bowhunting, Fred Bear knew this.

If you’re not from Grayling, don’t listen to Ted Nugent, or grew up near the city, you may not have heard of Fred Bear.

So what makes people like us hold Fred so dear? Why do we remember him and his ideals in this way? I believe it was his attitude toward the world that made him such an attractive character.

“Go afield with a good attitude, with respect for the wildlife you hunt and for the forest and fields in which you walk. Immerse yourself in the outdoor experience. It will cleanse your soul and make you a better person.” We need deep connections in life. The extension of man through Fred’s tool is one of those connections. As Bear wrote, “The history of the bow and arrow is the history of mankind.”

The stick and string is a symbol of adaptability. It showcases man’s ability to overcome incredible challenges (like not starving to death) and helps satisfy our hunger for adventure. We yearn for true thrill. We are made for real experiences, not screen-based simulations. Danger can’t be faked, and Bear knew it.

The wild offers us chance, challenge, high stakes, and great rewards. It’s a powerful counterpoint to the mind-numbing comfort and predictability of modern life. It strips away the superficial and soft layers and exposes us to reality.

But exposure to the wild isn’t just about physical survival; it’s about spiritual revival. As Bear wrote, “When a hunter is in a treestand with moral values and with the proper hunting ethics and richer for the experience, that hunter is 20 feet closer to God.”

In the silence of the woods or the stillness of a sunrise watched from a treestand, we can hear God. And when we engage with the natural world around us, we’re participating in something much larger than ourselves. We’re not just hunters, hikers, or fishermen—we’re stewards of the land, taking part in something that honors the Creator.

Bear knew that when we immerse ourselves in the outdoors, we discover our true selves. In the solitude of the woods, life becomes more clear. In the challenges of the hunt, we find purpose. None of this happens, or can happen, through a screen.

Maybe it’s time to step outdoors and let nature cleanse our souls.