Competence and complacency are two very different things, and on one crisp autumn morning high up in an old oak, that difference got learned the hard way.
It was one of those perfect fall days. Cool air, still and clean, the leaves a riot of color, the woods just starting to wake up. A couple of hours into the sit, the early excitement had worn off and comfort had set in. Coffee, a half-eaten granola bar, a phone scrolling through pictures of other people’s successful hunts while feeling a little sorry about the empty woods.
The Slip
Then it happened. Shifting weight for a little more comfort, a foot slipped on a patch of dew-covered metal. A small thing, a tiny mistake, but at 20 feet up, small mistakes have big consequences. One second sitting in the stand, the next in the air.
Time stretches in moments like that. The lurch in the stomach, the weightlessness, the very distinct thought that this is how it ends, becoming a story on the local news. The ground rushed up, and the impact was braced for.
Then it did not come.
The impact turned into a sudden, violent jolt that knocked the wind out. The safety harness, grudgingly put on that morning, had done its job. Dangling in the air, heart hammering against the ribs like a trapped bird. Alive, but in a whole new world of trouble.
The Part Nobody Practices
First thought: alive, that is good. Second thought: now what. Hanging about two feet below the stand, with no idea how to get back up. Arms shaking, legs kicking at empty air, and a very real sense of panic creeping in.
A safety harness had always been thought of as a magic talisman that protects from falls, never once considering what happens when it actually has to be used. No suspension relief strap, a phone lying in the leaves 20 feet below, a knife in the pack at the base of the tree. Screwed, to put it mildly.
Getting Back Up
What felt like an eternity passed just hanging there, swinging gently in the breeze. Pulling up was not possible, no strength for it. Swinging back toward the tree only started a slow spin. The panic gave way to a cold, creeping dread.
Finally, a foothold was found on one of the climbing sticks used to get into the stand. A clumsy, desperate maneuver, but it worked. Hauled back up, collapsing in a sweaty, trembling heap.
No hunting for the rest of the day. Just sitting there, heart still racing, thinking about how a series of small, stupid mistakes almost cost everything.
What It Taught
- A safety harness is not a magic charm. It is a piece of equipment that has to be understood and used.
- Always have a plan for what happens after a fall, and a suspension relief strap along.
- A knife and a phone belong on the person, not in the pack at the base of the tree.
- Complacency is the worst enemy a hunter has.
Treestand hunting still happens, but far more carefully now. There is a new respect for gravity and a healthy fear of personal stupidity. Every time the stand gets climbed into, the harness gets double-checked, because a small mistake can turn into a very big problem.