Now that I’m well past 30 seasons of deer hunting, I find myself looking back and increasingly thumping myself on the forehead and proclaiming, “What was I ever thinking?”

Camouflage clothing:

What was I thinking? I do not mean that I was wrong in trying to hide myself a bit better. The problem was that I thought you needed a serious plan with camo. I needed an early-season and late season. I needed camo for the treestand and camo for the blind. I needed camo for every occasion. I had camo cover-ups to camo my camo.

The best piece of camo I own?  It is a 4X6 piece of die-cut camo blind material, brownish on one side and greenish on the other.  It has a piece of cord attached all the way around.  I use it as a makeshift blind.  I have been behind it and shot a buck at 10 yards while his sister watched me through the blind from less than 3 feet away.  I have similar material that I use as skirts on all my treestands. I could be dressed in a tuxedo and the deer could care less.

The second best camo?  Go to the fabric store and get yourself two yards of any sort of camo.  Cut a hole in the middle and make yourself a poncho.  Read this:  In Praise of Ponchos.

shamanic deer poncho

Staying Warm:

Starting out, I was a bow hunter.  I went out in early October in some fairly light duds and life was cool.  It gets cold pretty quickly in Ohio in October.  Pretty soon I was shivering in my stand.  I tried to gut it out.  Yeah, right.  Then I tried a Jon-E Handwarmer.  That kept me warm, but it took me a few years to figure out those naptha fumes I smelled were a dead giveaway to the deer.  I finally bought a snowmobile suit (bright blue) and covered it with a set of coveralls.  In those days I was hunting in a location that required that I walk about a half mile uphill to get to my stand.  I was soaked with sweat when I got there, and I still shivered, but I had begun to be resigned to the idea that deer hunting was a cold endeavor.

It took  the better part of a decade to figure out all the ins and outs of staying the right temperature.  Nowadays, I walk the 1/2 to 3/4 mile to my stand in nothing more than light bibs and a sweater.  All my outer gear is stowed in a duffel bag I wear on my back.  I climb into my stand, settle in, and lose all the excess heat I accumulated on the trek in and the climb up the ladder.  When I start to feel a bit chilly, I hoist up my gear bag and crawl into my outer layer.

Stands:

Yikes!  What was I thinking?

For starters, I spent the first couple of seasons climbing into rickety stands that other guys had abandoned, or climbing into trees and  trying to hunt while standing or laying on a limb.  I was at least safety conscious enough to always belt myself to the tree, but Cheese and Rice!!! This was probably the worst bit of brain flatulence I pulled.

Next stop down the crazy path was the phase where I did DIY stands.  I had a few near falls and a couple rapid descents.  I finally bought a decent climber, an Amacker, about 10 years into it and started being safe about it.  The problem was this thing weighed about 50 lbs. and with all the other gear I was carrying, it was quite a struggle to get in and out as well as all the toil and accompanying noise I had to deal with clanking my way through the woods and up and down the tree.

Looking back on it,  a climbing stand had become a sport unto itself.  Somewhere in the middle of it all I got some hunting in, but the major part of my activity centered around the dang stand.

Scent:
I started out hunting in wool clothing that smelled of mothballs. I smoked a pipe. I would go all weekend without a shower. Then I started to grasp that the odd wheezy-snorting sound I kept hearing was from deer (DUH!) and that the deer were making that sound at me, telling me I stunk. About that time I read an article that said that if you dowsed yourself and all your clothes in baking soda, you’d stop stinking so much. Eureka!

As for all those other scents, let me tell you, there wasn’t a scent out there I wouldn’t try. I can well remember my first bottle of Tink’s 69. I took it out to the state park with a buddy and we put out a dozen scent bombs made from 35 mm film cans. We then got up in a tree and waited. 3 hours later we climbed down disgusted and gathered up the film cans and trudged back to the car. We had been certain– dead-nuts certain we would see a big buck. That was about a year into my deer hunting, and for about the next decade, I just burrowed in deeper.

I have to admit that I did have some good experience with scents. I used tarsal one time and had a buck follow the scent trail, and I got an arrow into him with his nose still stuck to the ground. There was another doe that came up to the base of my stand, found my scent pads and rolled in them. However, most of my over-the-top scent adventures left me wondering if all the hassle was worth it.

The Search for the Edge

The first decade or so of my hunting experience was marked with my all-consuming desire to find The Edge. The idea was that I did not have a whole lot of time to be out there. I was a city-type that only hunted on weekends. I figured I could leverage cash and science to make up for a lack of experience. I tested just about everything out there– scents, decoys, calls. If it had a big enough ad in a magazine, I figured it might be worth trying.

Nothing worked. At the peak of my gadget phase, I went 6 straight years eating tag soup. There were a lot of other reasons besides the gadgets. I had started a family and could not spend the kind of time like I had before. However, it was years before I found my way again.

Breaking the Habit

The first ray of sunlight came in 1998. I lost my way to my stand in the dark and decided to make do with what I had. I put a die-cut camo blind up between two trees and managed to put an arrow into a buck at 10 yards an hour later. That broke the slump, and it also gave me the first inkling that all that grueling cargo-oriented ritual that had become my deer hunting.

1999 was a near washout. I had a Muhldar’s Neuroma. I was out on the back end of a 40 acre parcel carrying a bow and a bunch of other gear when it hit. I had to crawl back to the truck. In 2000, I lost my last parcel of land when my buddy died shortly after season. However, I had re-doubled my efforts. It was now taking me two trips in to make it to my stand. I now had a full-sized solid body deer decoy to set up along with all the scent-oriented ritual. I saw deer that year, but I think they were just standing around laughing at me.

The End of the Madness

I came close to packing it all in after my buddy died with the 40 acres.  It was just getting to be so much of a struggle– stands, scents, calls, decoys.  I decided to keep trying and started looking for a place of my own.

In 2001, we acquired the farm. The deal settled just before season started, and I did not have a whole lot of time to do all the preparations I normally did. I had to keep it simple. I got a few ladder stands and put them up in likely spots. I did not use scents or calls or much of anything. I felt naked out there. About the only thing I was doing was washing my clothes in baking soda, and trying my best to keep clean despite having no running water yet.

Then the deer started coming in. I got two that year. The next year I tried getting fancy again, and I only got one doe. That was it! I saw the light.

What was I thinking?

. . . that finally turned me around? Let me give you the secrets that took the better part of two decades to learn.

• There is no such thing as “The Edge.” There is no thing you can buy that will make you a more successful deer hunter. If  “The Edge” exists, it is something between your ears. Scout. Learn about your deer first hand.  If you cannot get to your hunting venue enough, go find a county park or cemetery.  Get out and watch deer– that is your edge.
•  Simplicity is the key.   Scents, bait, calls, decoys– these are all extraneous clutter. Get down to the bare minimum. I do not mean to say these things are useless. For instance, I still carry a grunt call.  The point is that these things end up generally working against you in the long run, especially if you rely on them to produce your success.
• Sweat is the underlying bugaboo.  Take any piece of hunting flummery.  If it adds weight to your kit, or causes you to exert yourself in any way, it is causing you to sweat.  Get rid of it.  Sweat makes you chill easier.  When you are cold you move more.  Sweat increases your odor signature. Sweat is Nature’s way of telling you that you are not going to be seeing any deer in the near future.
• Camo is good, but it is no replacement for being quiet and still.  I now hunt a good part of my season in a hunter orange UV radioactive clown suit.  I killed my #3 all-time buck last season and my #2 all time buck  the season before.   I also regularly hunt in brown Carharts with an orange hat and vest.  Believe me, camo is a highly overrated part of your kit.
• Forget all the anti-scent stuff. Wash yourself and your clothes in sodium bicarbonate, and go enjoy yourself.   Here’s a link to my recommendations  :  Baking Soda — The Shamanic Method
• Blinds or stands– it really comes down to how simple you can make it.  Read this:  Treestands– a Survivor Looks Back.  Remember that my big turnaround came as I went from a climbing stand to a permanently positioned ladder stand.  There is really an edge in being able to climb up a ladder or crawl into your blind and be done with it.

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