Seasons Bring New Views

I went from timid to the top of the world in just three minutes. I climbed from the shadows of the forest floor and became drenched in the light of the summer sun. I transformed from a hunter who was scared of heights to one who was wondering if he could go just a little bit further up the trunk of the aspen which overlooked the abandoned log landing.

My affinity for mobility is well documented. I’m always on the move for bass in the summer, quick to pull up digs and punch thirty new holes for crappies in winter. I’m the guy who wants to march five miles for a couple of birds, and then do another hike to see if my group can put a few more in the air. After much internal debate, my love of mobility won out over my acrophobia and I purchased a climber stand to facilitate my first season of bowhunting, which will begin in a few short weeks. And while sitting twelve feet up in a tree, using the laws of physics to defy the will of gravity, I was glad I did.

Pieces of the puzzle fell into place, and not only would this new stand option help me become a better hunter and more rounded as an outdoorsman; it would also bring into focus the reason for those big lone aspens scattered about the areas that I had hunted last fall.

The Forest Service had spared the lone sentries during logging operations years ago, and they now towered over the open areas of grass, buckbrush and the remnants of aspen and pine stumps. I had walked by them multiple times and thought it odd at first that they stood alone, perhaps as a landmark for hunters like me to keep from getting lost in the woods. But now, after scaling up one of them on a scouting mission to a promising hunting area, I knew their purpose.

They were left standing for beginners like me, who look to access places that are overlooked by the hordes that roam the woods on deer opener. Far off the beaten path, the Forestry Service or hunter’s groups had cleared the openings around the trees, in some instances planting desirable forage in them. Some of the spaces lay along the river with clear and spacious views of its tannin-stained water and the well-worn trails that led deer to its banks for an evening sip of water. Others were just in small log landings that made for a useable hunting opening of a few acres. For bow or for rifle season, the view on these places and my world has been opened and with it presumably the opportunities to harvest a deer.

Suspended above the forest, I see new angles over a familiar hunting area, the trails leading in, the paths going out and where they all converge. In the humidity of August, I create mental shooting lanes for October and November by erasing the leaves on the saplings that grow in front of me.

Once back on the ground and in the truck, I pour over the aerial maps printed out and taped to the dog-eared pages of my plat book. I mark the areas of clearings and where I remember those large sentinel trees, which will provide stand locations that will increase my chances and my knowledge of deer patterns in the area. No creek bottom, log landing or forest trail is off limits now. Where deer roam, I can be above them in minutes, waiting. My views on the world around me have changed for the better, and optimism like that is a powerful ally…in our outdoors.