Are you still committed to the bird’s-eye view of a tree stand, or have you joined the growing number of hunters who are keeping their boots on the ground in a blind? I’ve done both. And after enough years, enough states and enough sketchy setups, I’ve settled firmly on the safer, sturdier route.
I’ve hunted from a lot of tree stands — hanging stands, climbers, even homemade ones — some no bigger than my kindergarten chair and a whole lot higher off the ground. And probably not much sturdier, either.
It was during an archery hunt for deer in South Carolina that age finally gave way to wisdom. The woods there were nothing like Maine — sparse, brush-free and eerily open. Big trees, with no low limbs. It felt like walking through a forest made entirely of telephone poles.
When the guide stopped and said, “Here we are,” I scanned the nearby trunks for a ladder or some kind of platform. I saw none. Then he grinned and pointed up — way up.
The “steps” were 8-inch spikes driven into either side of the trunk. The stand? A small seat, barely larger than the dinner plate I’d eaten off the night before, more than 25 feet in the air. After a slow, nerve-wracking climb, I hauled up my gear and wrapped a length of one-inch nylon tow strap around both me and the tree — three times.
As the afternoon wore on, the wind picked up. The tree began to sway two to three feet side to side. I’ve been on carnival rides with less movement. I did manage to bag a hefty crotch horn, but the experience was harrowing. Climbing down in the dusk didn’t help, either. I considered kissing the ground but settled for mentally vowing: no more stands like that.
From that point on, if I was going to hunt from a tree, it would be from a secure ladder stand. I currently own four — two singles and two doubles — and they range from 12 to 15 feet high. Friends and I have shot plenty of deer, moose and bear from these platforms. They may not be flashy, but they get the job done and keep your spine intact.
Most big game animals don’t expect danger from above. They’re focused on movement and scent at ground level. Being elevated gives you a better line of sight and more time to prepare. And, just like the military teaches, “manning the high ground” comes with tactical benefits. Your scent disperses more easily, especially with even a light breeze, and it’s easier to stay quiet. Less brush to rustle, fewer twigs to snap.
That said, not every hunt requires elevation. This fall, I bear hunted from a ground blind — and it worked. I stayed dry, stayed hidden and got the job done with both feet on the ground.
Ground blinds are growing in popularity, and it’s easy to see why. They’re comfortable, weather-resistant and great at hiding movement. With camouflage windows and one-way viewing, animals rarely see you inside. A swivel chair and a well-placed blind can give you 360 degrees of quiet, concealed coverage. They also help contain scent surprisingly well — though not perfectly.
But ground blinds aren’t perfect, and the woods are unpredictable.
More than a few blinds have met their end thanks to curious bears or passing moose. A $300 blind can be reduced to shredded nylon and bent poles in seconds. And yes, I know this firsthand — and so do a few unlucky friends. It happens multiple times a season.
Also, from ground level, your line of sight is more limited. In thick woods, animals can appear close and suddenly. That’s exciting, sure — but it doesn’t give you much time to prepare.
Still, they’re a great option for anyone who doesn’t want to — or shouldn’t — be climbing trees. No matter how experienced you are, every year hunters get injured, or worse, from falls. I’ve had enough climbs that made me question my sanity. These days, I prefer a solid seat and a steady base.
There’s no universal rule about how to hunt. We each have our preferences. But for me, comfort, safety and visibility all matter more now than ever. And if you’re pushing past a few decades of hunting, I’d offer this rule of thumb:
For every 10 years over age 35, you should be 5 feet closer to the ground.
Whether you’re watching from the sky or tucked in low and quiet, the key is making smart, safe decisions. The kind that lets you walk out of the woods with your gear, your story and your bones all in the right place.
