Neil's Archery and Crossbow

06/12/2026

Sunny days, good laughs, and reminiscing on last season

Tag your archery buddy you can't wait to shoot with again!

06/12/2026

3D shoots this weekend at Mountain Trail Bowhunters and Pine City.

06/11/2026

Several models in Stock, 90 days free range time.

06/11/2026

Lifetime warranty with Excalibur Xbows.

Hard hitting precision combined with lasting durability. That's what you get with the Mag Max and its Micro High Output limbs. Every shot counts, and your Mag Max makes the most of each shot season after season.

06/11/2026

In stock and color/camo choices.

06/11/2026

Get them in, after September turn around time increases to 3 weeks minimum.

06/10/2026

https://www.facebook.com/share/r/1E1JcyA5Lt/?mibextid=wwXIfr

06/10/2026

https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1GVECwF2aM/?mibextid=wwXIfr

My teammate is BACK!!
I’m pretty damn excited about this one. Tim has always believed Bowtech made the best bows and that this was where he belonged. This was home. We all know what happened a few years ago. Corporate decisions were made, and it wasn’t good. But those individuals are no longer with the company, and we have incredible new leadership that has given me so much hope for the future. For the first time in a long time, there’s a clear vision and someone at the helm who genuinely loves archery and the people in it. Bringing Tim back is just one of many great decisions that have been made recently, and I can’t wait for everyone to see the company we’re becoming—not the company we once were. I’m incredibly proud to be part of this team and on the target archery side… the dream team is back!!

06/10/2026

First snow hit overnight.

You knew it the second you woke up. That particular silence that only happens when the world is covered in white. You were out the door before the coffee finished brewing.

The cornfield had been holding deer all season. You had watched them work the edge every evening from the ridge, filing in from the timber at last light to feed in the standing rows. You knew the entry. You knew the wind. You knew that old rusted tractor sitting at the field edge had been there so long the deer had stopped seeing it as anything but part of the landscape.

You got there in the dark and got low.

The cold came up through the ground and settled into your bones inside the first hour. Your fingers went stiff around the grip. You tucked them under your arm between checks and told yourself it was fine. It was fine. You had been colder than this. You would be colder than this again.

The pink crept into the sky just before the first deer stepped out.

A doe. Then two more. Then a buck hanging back at the timber edge the way they do, letting the does tell him whether it was safe. You watched him for twenty minutes. Slow. Careful. That thick-necked, heavy-shouldered walk that only a mature whitetail has in the rut.

He came into the field heading straight for the tractor.

You did not move. You did not breathe any more than you had to. You let him get where he was going because you already knew where that was and you had positioned yourself accordingly. Thirty yards. Twenty five. The snow crunched under his hooves and each step sounded like a gunshot in the stillness of that frozen morning.

Twenty yards. You came to full draw.

The recurve bent back the way it always does. Smooth and honest. No let off. No holding forever. Just you and the bow and the anchor point you have found ten thousand times in the backyard and now need to find one more time when it actually matters.

The buck turned broadside.
The arrow was gone before the thought was finished.
This is traditional bowhunting. Not the shot. All of it. The frozen ground and the pink sky and the stiff fingers and the twenty minutes of watching and waiting and trusting everything you know.
That feeling never gets old.

Neither does the kid inside the man who chases it.

Artwork: Michael Sieve