“There is a particular beauty in loosing an arrow while the world rushes past you. Like trying to write poetry at full gallop.”

In the Saddle, String Drawn

The first thing you lose is control. And yet—that’s exactly what you must keep.

I’ve practised archery for many years. I’ve felt the rare precision of perfect alignment, struggled through sloppy releases, adjusted anchor points and tuned tillers to the millimetre. And still—whenever I see mounted archery, something deeper stirs in me. A quiet wonder at the balance, the precision, the will.

Archery is difficult in itself. To perform it on horseback, in a canter or full gallop, with your body in constant motion and the target flashing by—borders on magic. That is where my fascination lies.

I’ve never shot from horseback. But I did ride as a child, long enough to understand that balance is not a matter of thought—it’s a shifting equilibrium you negotiate in motion, breath by breath.

And perhaps that is why thumb draw has so thoroughly captivated me. As I’ve begun to train in this ancient technique, it’s become increasingly clear: of all the ways to hold a bow, this one seems to offer the greatest stability in motion. With a thumb ring or glove, the arrow stays put—even at odd angles and shifting postures. It enforces correct use of the back muscles and makes it difficult to misalign. It is not just a historical curiosity. It is a key.

When the Bow Ruled the World

It is sometimes said that history changed the day humanity climbed into the saddle. With the aid of stirrup and harness, people could control speed and direction like never before. When the bow was placed in the rider’s hand, something new was born: a weapon as swift as thought, as mobile as instinct.

Mounted archery appeared in many parts of the world, but it was on the endless grasslands of Central Asia that it became an art form—military, cultural, and spiritual. The Scythians who raided Greek colonies, the Huns who silenced Europe, and the Mongols under Genghis Khan all mastered the craft of riding and shooting. In these cultures, mounted archery was not a sport. It was a way of life.

It wasn’t just a matter of warfare. In Japan, mounted archery (yabusame) became ritualised: a spiritual discipline where the archer rides in formal attire, fires at wooden targets, and prays for peace., where the archer rides in formal attire and fires at wooden targets while praying for peace. In the Ottoman Empire, and among the Mamluks and Persians, mounted archery retained a place of honour long after gunpowder changed the battlefield.

The European Exception

Europe never fully embraced mounted archery in the same way. The famous English longbow was a fearsome weapon—but it was built for static use. Often over 180 cm long, it demanded a powerful draw and a solid anchoring technique. While the arms were involved, it was ultimately the back that provided the true strength and control. It was devastating when fired in massed ranks, but from horseback? Practically impossible.

That said, mounted archery was not absent in Europe. In Eastern regions—among Polish hussars, Tatars, and Cossacks—shorter, recurved bows were used from horseback. These designs, however, owed more to Asian influence than native European innovation. Where the west adopted sword and pike, the east still held the curved bow.

In truth, mounted archery faded not because it was ineffective—but because the cultural and tactical choices of Europe favoured heavy armour and later, firearms. But the spirit of mounted archery endured in legend, lingered in ritual, and reemerged in sport.

Art in Motion: The Technique

Mounted archery is a miracle of motion. Picture this: a galloping horse, the rider steering with knees or knotted reins, drawing a bow, aiming, and releasing—all in a single breath.

In modern sport, the rider often has only a second or two to fire each shot. This demands instinctive precision. Certain draw techniques simply don’t work well in motion. The Mediterranean draw (with fingers above and below the string) offers less stability—the arrow risks falling or shifting with movement. The three-under technique, often used in modern barebow, would be virtually impossible from horseback due to its anchor position and the way the arrow rests below the string, making it highly vulnerable to disruption while moving.

Some mounted archers even switch shooting sides mid-run—a manoeuvre made more viable through thumb draw’s arrow control and fast handling. The three-under technique, often used in modern barebow, would be virtually impossible from horseback due to its anchor position and the way the arrow rests below the string, making it highly vulnerable to disruption while moving.

This is where thumb draw becomes pivotal. The technique, historically widespread across Asia and the Middle East, allows the archer to hold the arrow on the same side as the drawing hand, pressed firmly by the thumb and a locking index finger. With a ring or glove, the arrow stays in place even at unconventional angles.

Some modern riders speak of the horse “drawing the bow”—meaning that the motion of the gallop becomes part of the shot itself. The archer’s job is not to resist the movement but to flow with it. Precision is achieved not through calculation, but through deep training, muscle memory, and breath.

From my own experience with thumb draw, I’ve discovered something that many practitioners already know: this technique almost forces you into good form. It favours alignment, not brute strength. The arrow simply won’t tolerate poor mechanics. You must draw with your back. You must release cleanly. And in that, it teaches more than just a grip—it teaches a principle, a kind of disciplined harmony. It is hard to shoot with poor alignment using thumb draw. The arrow won’t tolerate it. You must draw with your back. You must release cleanly. And in that, it teaches more than just a grip—it teaches a principle.

From Battlefield to Sport Arena

Today, mounted archery is reborn as sport. Hungary is one of its modern strongholds, with Lajos Kassai building entire systems and philosophies around the art. His Kassai course is now standard in many competitions, demanding that riders shoot at multiple targets along a marked path.

Other formats include Korean, Polish, and Tower tracks—each with their own rules for speed, angle, and scoring. Some wear historical garb. Others compete in sport gear. But all carry the thread of tradition.

In Sweden and other European countries, small but dedicated groups practise the sport—at medieval festivals, on equestrian farms, or in growing clubs. It is not an easy discipline. It requires not only mastery of a skill, but the harmony between two living beings: the archer and the horse.

A wrong breath, a misstep, a mistimed release—and the arrow flies astray.

Stillness in Motion

Mounted archery is a paradox. It is war in motion, but demands inner stillness. It is speed, but requires balance. It is chaos—and demands a straight line through it.

I may never shoot from horseback. But each time I practise thumb draw, each time I align my shot and feel the arrow settle under tension, each time I release from my back—I come a little closer to that rider galloping through time. Bow raised. Eyes steady. Stride smooth.

And perhaps, one day, I will ride again.