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Joining the Swinger Club - Saddle Monster on DIY hunt

John Eberhart

Well-Known Member
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Joined
Apr 1, 2014
Messages
700
3 parts

Joining the Swingers Club (a before and after story)

For as long as I can remember, my approach to things has been a bit different from the preverbal “norm”, and my hunting methods are no exception. Back in the early nineties, my friends were buying and even building their first hang-on stands, often fastening them to a tree with a chain worthy of a warship anchor.

They spent energy, sweat, and precious time clanking, hoisting, and hanging these heavy ambush perches. All the while, I was still-hunting in the swamps and thickets and fields. Truth be told, none of us were killing deer... not yet. I was preached to about the advantages and benefits of hunting from a stand and sometimes even razzed for not conforming to the chain gangster mentality. But I was obsessed by a thought that I couldn’t yet form into words.

It was perfectly illustrated in a survival movie a few years later: “What one man can do, another man can do”. I thought, if Fred Bear could stalk and kill deer from the ground, then so could I.

In 1993, wearing army-style tiger stripe camo and toting a Martin Warthog bow with no sights, I did just that, and killed my first deer. At only 10 yards my muzzy-tipped aluminum shaft sliced through the heart of a mature doe that must’ve mistaken me for one of the randomly scattered 6 foot pines in an overgrown field. I was instantly hooked on bow hunting and more importantly, bow hunting my own way.

I got busted often and missed a lot but I never lost the excitement of that first success. Eventually however, I did start hunting from elevated stands, maybe because I fulfilled my first goal or because I saw the benefits of hunting above my quarry. I tried hang-on stands, climbers, and even wooden built permanent stands. I really hated how clunky, bulky and uncomfortable they were to not only hang, but also to carry to and from the woods. (In the final story in this article you’ll see why there’s absolutely no way I could’ve succeeded with a conventional stand or without a saddle).

From stands I killed some small bucks and a bunch of does but it wasn’t consistent and I longed to kill the kind of bucks that graced the pages of my favorite hunting magazines. I live in Michigan so those pictures were basically hornography and fantasy to me as those types of bucks just didn’t exist in the places I hunted. While more successful from stands, I missed the unorthodox, creative methods that secured me my first few deer.

So “what does any of this have to do with hunting from a saddle” you might ask? Well, because thinking outside of the box and hunting outside of the ‘industries’ norms and gimmicks and unrealistic standards, is what saddle hunting is all about. And oh, did I mention it actually works? Like, really, really well. Would you believe me if I told you that you could kill more deer, bigger bucks and be more consistently successful with a saddle and some creative thinking, than any other form of ambush hunting?

It doesn’t matter if you believe me or not, because I know it to be true as I am living, breathing proof with a before and after story.

In 2006 I stumbled across a seemingly out of place book in Meijer, resting on a pile of marked- down post season hunting gear. It was titled “Bowhunting Pressured Whitetails” and it was exactly what I didn’t even know I was looking for. I couldn’t believe it when I read the back cover and the author was from Michigan! Also on the back cover was a picture of the author, John Eberhart, standing in front of a wall full of mature bucks he’d killed on public and free permission land in Michigan. Those same words once again passed through my mind again, “what one man can do, another man can do”.

I bought it and read it from cover to cover in just a few days. A reoccurring theme in the book was about doing things most other hunters aren’t willing or are simply too lazy to do, which was right up my alley. Oh, yeah, and this guy hunted from a saddle and it was such a big part of his hunting plan that he had a complete chapter in the book devoted to it. I thought, “what’s a saddle, where can I get one, and how does it work”?

My synapses lit up like aurora borealis and I scoured sporting goods stores searching for one of these “seatbelts gone wrong” as the book called it. I eventually tracked down a used one on EBay from a hunter in Colorado. After a little practice from 12 inches off the ground in an oak in my backyard and I realized this was absolutely 100% for me.

The mobility without even moving my feet, the lack of noise always prevalent with metal stands, the comfort and security of being in a half sit/half stand position... Not to mention I only needed to buy one and it would last for the rest of my life for every tree I ever hunt from. That’s a monetary game changer alone!! One “stand” that you roll up and store in your pack (or wear it) and bring with you to any of your previously prepped trees or even “fly by the seat of your pants” (pun intended) DIY freelance hunts. Size of the tree, shape of the tree, straightness of the tree, whatever, it just doesn’t matter. You hunt exactly where you need to hunt instead of only in a straight tree that’s ‘near to’ where you actually should be. “Why wasn’t everyone using one of these” I thought?
 
Part 2

On my first ever saddle hunt, perched in a split-trunk black walnut, way too skinny and crooked and leaning for any regular hang-on or climber, I killed an unsuspecting doe in her bedding area. I was completely sold. Saddle + immaculate scent control + non-conformist attitude = dead deer. Period, end of story!!

I know exactly what you’re thinking, “big deal, you killed a doe” and if that’s where the story ended, I suppose I’d see your point. But let me break this down for you, and understand this...I’m not paying to hunt ranches, don’t hunt managed properties, don’t bait and to some extent, probably because I’m so used to it being from Michigan, don’t mind and sometime embrace competition as other hunters consolidate deer into areas I’m willing to access due to my somewhat newly found mobility. I don’t own land or have any family or close friends that do either. I’m hunting public lands and free permission properties with others that have permission as well.

Since I began using a saddle in conjunction with my ScentLok scent control program and creative tactics, I’ve killed all of my biggest bucks, culminating in my most recent and biggest buck, a gross Booner on a DIY public land hunt.

I started applying a percentage of what I learned from Eberhart’s book in 2006 and saw immediate results. Public and private land buck and doe kills went from one or two a season to 4 or 5. I immediately went from killing 1&1/2 year old bucks to seeing and killing 2&1/2 year olds with my biggest buck coming from public land. But I still desired to kill older class bucks, and that meant hunting areas where older class bucks reside during season. Tangles, thickets, young regrowth clear cuts, hiking far to avoid the crowds, crossing waterways, you know... the places you can’t get a regular stand to because the journey is too far or the brush is too dense and treacherous to lug those heavy cumbersome stands through. Or the trees are too small or too crooked or sometimes even too big (as in the case of a giant ancient burr oak in the middle of a corn field) to accept conventional hang-ons or climbers.

So, by 2011, I became a proud, card carrying member of the “Swinger’s Club” a term I concocted for saddle hunters that “Hypothetically” swing in trees. That’s when the big bucks started to fall and tally up.

After killing a buck in Michigan I went to Iowa in 2011 and used the saddle in a crooked birch tree and had an old mature ten pointer come in and bed 20 some yards away. He was constantly scanning the area and because I swung to the backside of the tree to keep the tree trunk between him and me to hide my body, he never picked me.

Because his vitals were somewhat obscured by cedar limbs, I used the quietness and tree facing position of the saddle to conceal my descent from the tree. I then stalked within 15 yards and killed him in his bed. The fact that I ended up having to drown him in the small pool of water at the base of an uprooted tree was another story in itself. To put it bluntly, it was a real life and death struggle once I grabbed onto his antlers because he wasn’t dead yet. Please reply if you would like me to post the story of that buck.

During a midday November hunt in 2012, I spined a 3&1/2 year old Michigan 8 point that ran to the base of my tree after a calling sequence in heavy cover.

In 2013 I killed two 3&1/2 year old Michigan bucks and 3 does, all from my saddle.

In 2014, it was a tall 2&1/2 year old 6 point in Michigan and a massive 158 inch 10 point in Iowa. Should I go on? I could.

In 8 seasons since using a saddle I’ve arrowed and recovered 12 bucks ranging from 2&1/2 to 6&1/2 years old and five of those bucks were personal bests when I shot them. I’ve also taken 7 does and it’s not a coincidence since using a saddle, it’s because of it and that’s a fact! These stats aren’t to brag or even endorse any specific product, but to prove a point about the versatility and effectiveness of saddle hunting. It simply makes you the most dangerous hunter you can be.

If further proof was needed, I think the most recent of my kills is a perfect example and sums up the entirety of everything I’ve covered.

2017 into 2018 was an extra busy period for me and I didn’t have the time I usually do to put into post season scouting and location preparation. For the third time I drew a coveted Iowa tag and had no permission on private property. I decided a DYI public hunt would have to do. I was confident I could pull a decent buck from one of the places I scouted way back in 2011. I’d never actually hunted there, and hadn’t walked it in years but a topo map jogged my memory of a steep sided, twisting creek bed. It ran the entire width of the public piece from north to south and that meant one thing; there would be a preferred crossing point. Any deer traveling from east to west or vice versa, would funnel into this theorized spot that I’d never even seen.
 
Part 3

But, from experience and observation, I just knew the steep terrain features would somewhere create a pinch point along the winding creek. I showed up in the parking lot and was pleased there were no other vehicles. There I began my regimented routine of dressing in Under Armor under layers covered by a ScentLok exterior suit. I checked my map and GPS and packed only the necessities for this particular hunt. Making as minimal noise as possible and leaving no human odor on any vegetation I may brush against, I began my blind hike into the deer woods walking slowly so as not to work up a sweat.

Determined to give myself as much time as I could in my saddle, I traversed the South edge of the property heading west until I hit the creek and followed it north. It twisted and turned but because of the steep hill, upstream always headed northerly over wood debris and deadfalls. I saw the occasional set of tracks and a rub here and there along the way but the sign was not reliable or consistent enough to make me believe I’d found the “SPOT”.

There it was, hitting me like a hammer to the side of the head. A small break on both sides of the creek had created a slight flattening of the terrain and the sign was there to back it up. Tracks on top of tracks, heading east and west and rubs and scrapes on the small stretch of flat ground connecting the saddles. This was it.

I looked for a tree that could cover a shot to the closest scrape and to the heavy crossing in the creek bottom. A twisted, leaning maple with a dead tree leaning against it stood out plain and clear. I pulled my saddle from my backpack (yeah, it fits in the second smallest compartment) and put it on. I began silently attaching my strap-on Cranford steps and ascended until I reached the spot where the dead tree intersected the maple. I would be well concealed by the crisscrossed trunks at roughly 20 ft. off the earth.

In my heavily pressured home state I rarely hunt lower than 25 feet because mature deer are just that much more educated and wary of elevated danger. However, in IA, regardless of cover (even on public ground), I knew I’d be ok at this height. I tied off my lead strap, pulled up my bow, and I was hunting. The understudy of the forest was thick and infested with thorny briars and just the type of stuff that big bucks like to hang out in and transition through.

For the record, until I found this location, my decision for this approach had nothing to do with wind direction, nor did my final choice of a tree or its directional relationship to any of the nearby signposts. Since using ScentLok, I’ve never considered wind direction for a hunting location or my approach to it. No, that’s not a typo, you read it correctly. I believe, no, I know human odor is controllable and the wind is not… But that topic is for another time.

It only took 20 minutes before I saw movement in the form of a harassed doe, mouth agape and panting, running from an overzealous spike. Following him were two fawns, confused and just trying to keep up with mom. They all used the dip in the ridge from one side to the other, crossing the creek within bow range just as I had suspected.

About 30 minutes later, a four pointer followed the exact same path, no doubt picking up the scent of the doe and her entourage. I watched him and paid close attention to where he and the others came from and where they went, always storing away information for potential future hunts. For the next 45 minutes I could periodically detect leaves crunching, and twigs snapping beyond my sight and up over one of the ravine hillsides to my left. At first I dismissed it as small animal movement, but some of the twigs sounded large enough to be snapped under-hoof by a cautious deer.

Had it been an immature deer, it would’ve just come bounding down the hill like the other two had. If it were a buck, he surely should have been able to smell the ruckus that happened an hour and a half prior, so I tried to exactly re-create it audibly to arouse his curiosity and entice him over the hill. I reached for my deer call and gave it two short grunts, followed by one long whiny doe bleat. Before the bleat even completely trailed off, the crest of the hill exploded with a crash of sticks and a flash of antlers as a monster came thundering downhill towards my set up!

The steepness of the hillside gave me a bird’s eye view of his thick rack and I knew immediately it was at least 20 inches wide and was a shooter regardless of how many points he had. He hit the flat patch at the bank of the creek and came to an abrupt halt, head-on at 30 yards, staring in the direction of my tree, obviously looking for what his nose and ears told him should be down there. I think it’s important to note that in that moment I noticed a breeze blowing and swirling in almost every direction, including from me to him, and he never once got spooky or concerned.

Continuing to stare straight and then looking left and right, displaying every angle of his character-laden crown, he was convinced that the deer making the noise must have moved off. What does a frustrated dominant buck do, well this guy went about freshening his scrapes instead of following the script and hitting the creek bed crossing. The biggest problem now was that he skipped the closest scrape and worked the others at bad shot angles! Also, the scrape line angled away from my position and it was semi-shielded by thick bramble and with each scrape he hit, he was that much closer to reaching the outer limits of my effective bow range.

Paying attention to where the four point had walked earlier in the hunt was going to pay off much sooner than expected as I looked ahead and remembered an open spot in the brush where I would have a small window at about 45 yards. I watched as I caught glimpses of his legs and colossal beams filtering through the foliage, getting slightly farther away with each step until finally he approached that opening.
 
Part 4

I drew my bow as his eyes were shielded by a tree trunk and stopped him with a “myaat” noise. As I carefully picked my spot I heard rustling on the opposite ridge to my right and to my surprise there appeared another shooter! I knew I better focus and send my arrow before something stupid happened and as I squeezed the trigger on my release, Murphy’s Law slapped me right in the mouth! My buck lunged forward (either to attack the other buck, or to gain momentum for the steep hillside upward) and I watched in horror as my arrow arced towards the moving target hitting him much farther back than where I aimed.

The huge bodied buck spun and bounded back to where he first appeared, giving me a glimmer of hope with a glimpse of blood dripping from the opposite ham. He was laboring to ascend the hillside and then stood motionless at the top except for his huge heaving chest, staring back towards the other buck almost as if offended by the recent interaction.

I watched intently, hoping he would just fall over on the off-chance I hit an artery. As the footfalls of the other buck closed in on my location, I took my eyes off the wounded brute for just a few seconds and when I looked back, he was gone. The mature eight point passed within easy bow range, unaware that anything detrimental to his health was within close proximity. This proving further that my map-scouted DYI location, my meticulous scent control, and (most importantly) the ease and versatility of my saddle, was everything I knew it would be...deadly.

With 45 minutes of daylight left, I quietly released my saddle, descended the tree and backed out smoothly using the sand in the creek bed to mask my departure. I knew my best chance at recovering this deer would be to leave him overnight. I hated the idea of coyotes and the rain in the early morning forecast, not to mention it was public land, but I was unsure of the hit. It would be a long sleepless night.

Back at camp my buddy Eric waited anxiously to hear the full details and then helped me pass the time with conversation and dice games, knowing what it’s like to wound a giant and leave him overnight. Eric sacrificed his morning hunt to help me, as any true friend would and we set out at first light using our flashlights. I climbed back up into my tree and told Eric where I last saw the buck standing and sure enough he found blood. I joined him on the hill and we begin to track, slowly unraveling a sparse blood trail mystery, full of twists, drama, and eventually… Success!

Crossing several smaller ravines, on a heavily brushed mound, topped with a fallen tree, there he lay. A true monster by any standards but amplified by the fact that he was taken on public ground on the first hunt of a DIY adventure…A day in the life of a bow hunter doesn’t get any better than this. And if it does I’ll be there, silently waiting, like an invisible mantis in the tall grass, ready to strike... except I’ll be in a tree, patiently waiting in my saddle.

*Sidebar to story:

Here’s why the saddle is the hero of that story: 1). There’s absolutely no way I could have hauled a ladder stand, hang on stand, or even a climbing stand that far without making a ton of noise, getting it occasionally hung up in brush, and getting completely soaked in sweat. 2). I couldn’t have hung any conventional stand in the maple tree that was best suited for the location I had found. With a saddle, you simply choose the best location and use the trees available, not the other way around. 3). The buck was likely bedded close to where I first heard him on the hill which is where he came from, meaning if I had climbed and set up with anything other than my lightweight, silent saddle, I would have certainly spooked him from his bed before I ever got to see him.

David Ferianc – Grand Rapids, Michigan

David Ferianc.jpg
 
Part 4

I drew my bow as his eyes were shielded by a tree trunk and stopped him with a “myaat” noise. As I carefully picked my spot I heard rustling on the opposite ridge to my right and to my surprise there appeared another shooter! I knew I better focus and send my arrow before something stupid happened and as I squeezed the trigger on my release, Murphy’s Law slapped me right in the mouth! My buck lunged forward (either to attack the other buck, or to gain momentum for the steep hillside upward) and I watched in horror as my arrow arced towards the moving target hitting him much farther back than where I aimed.

The huge bodied buck spun and bounded back to where he first appeared, giving me a glimmer of hope with a glimpse of blood dripping from the opposite ham. He was laboring to ascend the hillside and then stood motionless at the top except for his huge heaving chest, staring back towards the other buck almost as if offended by the recent interaction.

I watched intently, hoping he would just fall over on the off-chance I hit an artery. As the footfalls of the other buck closed in on my location, I took my eyes off the wounded brute for just a few seconds and when I looked back, he was gone. The mature eight point passed within easy bow range, unaware that anything detrimental to his health was within close proximity. This proving further that my map-scouted DYI location, my meticulous scent control, and (most importantly) the ease and versatility of my saddle, was everything I knew it would be...deadly.

With 45 minutes of daylight left, I quietly released my saddle, descended the tree and backed out smoothly using the sand in the creek bed to mask my departure. I knew my best chance at recovering this deer would be to leave him overnight. I hated the idea of coyotes and the rain in the early morning forecast, not to mention it was public land, but I was unsure of the hit. It would be a long sleepless night.

Back at camp my buddy Eric waited anxiously to hear the full details and then helped me pass the time with conversation and dice games, knowing what it’s like to wound a giant and leave him overnight. Eric sacrificed his morning hunt to help me, as any true friend would and we set out at first light using our flashlights. I climbed back up into my tree and told Eric where I last saw the buck standing and sure enough he found blood. I joined him on the hill and we begin to track, slowly unraveling a sparse blood trail mystery, full of twists, drama, and eventually… Success!

Crossing several smaller ravines, on a heavily brushed mound, topped with a fallen tree, there he lay. A true monster by any standards but amplified by the fact that he was taken on public ground on the first hunt of a DIY adventure…A day in the life of a bow hunter doesn’t get any better than this. And if it does I’ll be there, silently waiting, like an invisible mantis in the tall grass, ready to strike... except I’ll be in a tree, patiently waiting in my saddle.

*Sidebar to story:

Here’s why the saddle is the hero of that story: 1). There’s absolutely no way I could have hauled a ladder stand, hang on stand, or even a climbing stand that far without making a ton of noise, getting it occasionally hung up in brush, and getting completely soaked in sweat. 2). I couldn’t have hung any conventional stand in the maple tree that was best suited for the location I had found. With a saddle, you simply choose the best location and use the trees available, not the other way around. 3). The buck was likely bedded close to where I first heard him on the hill which is where he came from, meaning if I had climbed and set up with anything other than my lightweight, silent saddle, I would have certainly spooked him from his bed before I ever got to see him.

David Ferianc – Grand Rapids, Michigan

View attachment 8572
Good stuff!!

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