Redneck Erotica: Tossing the Tomahawk in Fifty Shades of Forest
Wednesday, June 15, 2016
Few things are as sexy as a fit woman throwing a tomahawk in a white T-shirt and tight shorts. I'm her partner. I'm allowed to say that.
The shaft rotates one full turn before the blade plunges into fleshy wood with a satisfying thud. As the weapon is withdrawn, resin tugs at the steel. The deeper the penetration the better, although as long as the tomahawk stays in the target, it's still a scoring toss.
We've taken to this, Tamara and me. The pair of 'hawks were a Christmas present, and about as far removed from the angel atop the tree as figurativelly possible. A friend of hers cut us two huge fir stumps to fashion targets with. I contemplated options for several days, finally coming up with the idea of using half-inch rebar to hang a stump from a cedar tree. The resulting target actually has a springiness to it that we both find reassuring, like a firm mattress beneath willing lovers.
Still, Mel Gibson we ain't. The Redcoats have nothing to fear in this neck of the woods, though we are improving each time out. The knack, we've discovered, is consistency. In that respect it's a lot like darts, wingshooting, or any of the other eye-hand endeavors that reward repetition and precision. You need to know exactly how far to stand from the target to achieve the desired rotations, and you need to exactly replicate your arm speed and delivery with each throw.
Eventually we plan to graduate to double-bladed throwing axes.
The longer shafts will take some getting used to, for sure, as will the increased heft. We'll need to work out new balance issues - new positioning. Tomahawks are gripped with one hand; throwing axes with two. More surface area comes with increased risk: a mistimed lunge or slip could be disastrous.
Our goal is the 2017 Kaslo Logger Sports at the annual May Days celebration. There's an amateur Axe Throwing event the day before the professionals take the stage. There's one heck of a big party in town that night, too.
I'm hoping I can convince Tamara to compete in a white T-shirt and tight shorts. The distraction might be just what I need to slip through and nab a ribbon. I'm her partner. I'm allowed to say that.