I Picked Up a Crossbow After a Shoulder Injury, Here’s What I Learned

I was sitting in a ladder stand on opening day of the North Carolina archery season. I had a fantastic view of my favorite oak flat, and I felt that familiar, warm gratitude as the rising sun turned the woods into gold. Everything felt right. Only, this year, I’m carrying a crossbow instead of the compound bow I’d hunted with for the past 15 years.

A few minutes after sunrise, two does appeared. They seemed to float across the flat, feeding at 50 yards, just beyond my comfortable shooting range. I watched their ears flick away the mosquitoes and held my breath, hoping they’d move closer. I might have been holding a different bow in that treestand, but the feeling of seeing deer was exactly the same.

A Change of Plans

If you had told me last season that I’d be carrying a crossbow into the woods, I would have looked at you like you were crazy. Then a bad fall on a martial arts mat left me with a dislocated shoulder. I didn’t realize it for two days. I just thought I was badly bruised.

When it finally popped back into place (thank you, Dr. Williams), the surrounding tendons and ligaments were stretched and pretty angry at me. It’s the kind of thing I would have bounced back from easily in my younger years. But this time, healing came slow. For months, I could barely raise my arm above shoulder level. Applying deodorant was almost impossible, let alone drawing my bow.

I’d regained most of my mobility by the end of summer, but I was far from ready for archery season. I hadn’t shot my bow in months. I’d lost strength in my back and shoulder, and I was holding a lot of anxiety about the possibility of reinjuring my still-tender shoulder. I wasn’t willing to risk reinjuring my shoulder just to preserve my draw weight, so I grabbed a crossbow.

I admit it felt like a concession, like I was quietly giving up an identity I’d spent 15 years building. But I knew it was one way to still get into the woods and, hopefully, put some meat in the freezer.

A Different Kind of Bowhunter

There’s a bit of a stigma about crossbow hunters in the archery world. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me. I’d also be lying if I said I’d never scoffed at crossbow hunters myself. I’d spent a good portion of my adult life identifying as a bowhunter. To me, that category was limited to anyone shooting a vertical bow.

I loved my compound bow. The repetition of practicing draw, anchor, settle, release felt almost like meditation. I liked the challenge and maybe even a little of the badass reputation that comes with mastering a difficult weapon. (Okay, maybe a lot). In my mind, a crossbow didn’t carry the same aura. I realize I was judging myself way harder than any other hunter probably would have. But I also wasn’t ready to give up a season just to protect my pride.

Making the Change

I got my hands on a new Excalibur Hybrid X a few weeks before archery season. The model would be easy to cock with a crank system that was kind to my shoulder. But my first experience on the range didn’t feel much like shooting a bow. The thing is heavy. All decked out, it weighs over 10 pounds. My compound tipped the scales just over four.

The scope, trigger, and balance reminded me more of a rifle than anything I’d ever shot bowhunting. But there was an advantage to that. It took a single afternoon to feel competent shooting it. That surprised me. I expected a steeper learning curve. And it was stupid accurate once I got the scope zeroed. I was throwing one-inch groups at 40 yards from a bench in under an hour.

That afternoon, I started thinking less about what I was giving up and more about what a crossbow could do for me. I could cock and shoot it without shoulder pain, and I felt comfortable making accurate shots out to at least 40 yards. With my compound, 20 to 25 yards had always been my sweet spot. I was getting excited for bow season.

Trade-Offs in the Woods

There’s a lot more to deer hunting than just putting arrows on target. I wouldn’t realize the full extent of some of the trade-offs of my conversion until I was actually in the woods. That 10-pound rig felt heavy on the practice range, but it felt like hauling lead in the field. If I’m hunting close to the truck, the pounds don’t matter much. But I can feel every ounce on a long hike, especially when there are hills and rocks to contend with. Add a deer drag to the equation, and carrying that crossbow feels like hauling a boat anchor.

Still, the weight is a trade-off I’m willing to make. Once I'm settled into my stand, I don't have to draw the bow or hold at full draw while I wait for a deer to offer a good shot. That makes my shoulder happy.

That doesn’t mean there aren’t challenges, though. Holding steady and on target still isn’t easy. It just requires different muscles. Shooting offhand has its challenges, but a solid rest or a good set of shooting sticks can help.

What the Deer Don’t Know

For all the adjustments and ego bruises that came with converting to a crossbow, deer are still deer. A crossbow didn’t magically make me a better hunter, even if I can shoot it more consistently than I can currently shoot my compound. No piece of gear can replace solid woodsmanship. I still have to understand how deer move, play the wind, and be stealthy. None of that has changed. I haven’t changed as a bowhunter, either. I still need to judge the distance to my target and wait for a good angle or clear path to vitals. That is the most reassuring part of this whole transition. The crossbow hasn’t changed the kind of hunter I am.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss my compound bow. I miss the familiar rhythm of practice, the challenge, and, honestly, the identity I gave myself when I hunted with a compound bow. I like being a badass, and a crossbow just doesn’t carry the same reputation for me.

But I’m starting to believe the gear I carry into the woods might not define me as much as I thought it did. Maybe I’ll go back to my compound bow next year. Maybe I’ll keep the crossbow in the rotation. I haven’t decided yet. Either way, I’ll probably ease up on the crossbow shade I’ve thrown in the past. At least a little.

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