The red dot adds a high-technology twist to the age-old practice of bow-and-arrow target shooting.

There is shooting a bow and there is shooting a bow well. It takes a fine-tuned instrument to kick a flexing arrow into motion with a minimum of interferences as it leaves the rest. And it takes a commitment to the fundamentals of the shot.

Everything matters: the grip of the bow hand, the placement of the fingers and rotation of the elbow. On the draw, the nock of the arrow must come back to the same place, shot after shot. The grip, the anchor point — at the corner of the mouth, cheekbone, corner of the eye, tip of the nose, or ear lobe — must be consistent. That means you hold your head the same way each shot and plant your feet the same way and release the arrow the same way every time.

The object is to build muscle memory, to create a rhythm in practice that translates into consistency in the field. A lot of archers practice at home wearing the clothes they’ll wear when the season opens — for consistency.

Most archers take the winter off and start shooting again in the spring. But it’s not too early to be thinking about it now.

Two Oregon companies, BowTech (from Eugene) and Crimson Trace, have been thinking about it. They’ve teamed up to create a laser for archers.

The word “laser” is an acronym for Light Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation. A typical laser consists of a gain medium inside an optical cavity, emitting visible light in a narrow, low-divergence beam. The first lasers were bulky and prone to fail, but as the components began to be miniaturized, they became useful on firearms. At first, the technology was rejected by a few experts, but today, lasers are at work in targeting systems large and small, in both visible and invisible spectrums.

Crimson Trace Corporation has been making lasers for 14 years. First, from an office with broken windows beneath a bridge in Portland, then from Beaverton and now from a plant in Wilsonville, where they employ over 100 people. CTC products have been embraced by law enforcement, the military and private citizens who want a gun-mounted laser that doesn’t change the geometry of the grip or add unnecessary bulk.

That red laser has become an international symbol of persuasion. When the bad guy notices the red dot on his chest, there’s a good chance he’ll put his hands up.

When I toured the new Crimson Trace plant last month, I asked to try the new BowTech laser. Like all Crimson Trace products, the laser is grip-actuated. A pressure switch is located at the spot where the web of the bow hand contacts the grip. The laser housing is located in the left grip panel above the shooter’s index finger.

Downrange, there were four cedar bales and a synthetic block target. I imagined it was a wild boar with a grapefruit-sized bummer-of-a-birthmark.

I clicked the release onto the string, brought the bow to full draw and concentrated on the elements of shooting form: grip, elbow, anchor, sight pin, peep sight. I noticed that when I altered the geometry of my wrist to the slightest degree, the red dot drifted completely off the target.

When everything lined up, I saw the red dot and tickled the trigger. The arrow lanced my imagined pig. That’s when I saw the light.

The laser is not so much a hunting aid as it is a training device. For the archer who wants an edge, the laser shows exactly when you’re holding the bow right and when you’re holding it wrong. It helps the shooter to train with proper form and technique. 3D shooters will love this product, not because they’ll be allowed to use it in competition, but because it’s a great training tool for a consistent shot.

Is there a hunting application? In Oregon and most states, it’s against the law to hunt game with a light attached to the bow. That’s not likely to change, but the Crimson Trace/BowTech lasergrip could be put to use as an assistive sighting device for the partially blind or disabled.

For most hunters who try it, the laser will be a target-shooting tune-up tool. For hunters traveling to Texas, hoping to persuade pork roasts from the Lone Star State’s wild boar, it should be a winner.