Eerie Walks To The Tree Stand

There is something about being surrounded by darkness that makes the human mind feel a little uneasy. We cannot see what is around us, and so our mind projects even unrealistic possibilities of what lies in the darkness. Naturally, walking to a tree stand an hour before the sun even thinks about peaking over the horizon can cause us to live in temporary anxiety as we find our way trough the dark.

I remember the very first time I walked through the woods on my own in this darkness. I was even greeted by the rancher who lets me hunt on his land, as he opened the gate for me leading through his pasture and into the woods on the backside of his property. I walked the path with my headlamp on and followed what I thought were his instructions to the trailhead. Unfortunately, I ended up a little lost. Not being able to see the layout of where I was, I decided to just cut through the trees toward where I remembered the path being from scouting it previously during the day. It did not take long to find a trail, but I of course questioned whether or not this was the correct trail. Was there more than one?

As I walked along, hoping I was headed in the right direction, my mind started to wander. Could there be anyone else out here with me? Are there any big animals to worry about? I told myself that these thoughts were ridiculous as the property was surrounded by a cattle fence. But once you have those thoughts, they are hard to shake. My breath further fogged my vision as the cold early November morning air developed rapid condensation, causing a thick cloud that I constantly walked through.

Every little noise in the quiet morning made me dart my head to look. My headlamp could only see maybe 15 to 20 feet into the thick of the trees, which was not enough to put me at ease. I founding myself stopping and turning around just to make sure nothing was behind me. All clear. I kept walking wondering how much longer until I arrived at the tree stand. Was I on the wrong path? It seemed so much closer when I had come by on the side-by-side a few weeks earlier. I kept going, my breath growing thicker as I repeatedly walked through it. Then I heard something behind me. A soft crack of a branch or leaf being crushed. I whirled around mid-step and was face-to-face with something immediately behind me, inches from my face. I jumped back with a low guttural sound of surprise in my voice. My heart was racing into fight or flight. Then after a moment, I realized I had just shined my light into the mass of fog I had just walked through that my breath had created. I had simply walked through it and saw it immediately behind me.

As this thick mass of breath wisped away, I started to laugh at myself. I was worked up over nothing. This was practically like jumping at the sight of your own reflection. I felt like Ichabod Crane in The Legend of Sleepy Hollow laughing at himself when he realized he was just hearing things. Luckily the Headless Horseman did not show up to chase me. After this humbling moment, I had snapped out of my paranoia and kept on until I found the reflective rope that hung from the stand above.

I climbed up, settled in, and enjoyed watching the morning wake up for the very first time. This alone is worth trekking through the darkness. It is like watching God waking up, stretching his arms, and saying let there be light. Creatures of all sizes rise from their beds and scurry out of holes or down nests in trees. As Steven Rinella has described it, it is like listening to a band warm up before a concert as one bird tests out its vocals at a time until they are all playing at once. Squirrels come down for breakfast and sometimes I have seen turkey flutter down from a nearby roost. This is a semblance of what the Garden must have been like.

` I have since had far more confidence walking to the stand and I do not get lost anymore. I still laugh at myself for jumping at the sight of my own breath. The mind can easily play tricks on you. And for the record, there was only one path.

Another time after having hunted this property several times, I was heading out toward the trail after hopping the fence when I saw small reflective dots in the distance caused by my headlamp. It had rained somewhat recently, so my first thought was that these were a collection of water drops. As I walked, I could swear the dots were moving. I stared for a moment and remembered that this Rancher's pigs were in a pen in that direction and I then assumed they were the pig's eyes. Then two of the dots stacked about a foot apart rotated to be horizontal and raised several feet above the ground. My heart started pounding as I realized that whatever these belonged to were much larger than pigs. I turned and saw more of these wide eyes looking at me on the path ahead. They definitely were not pigs and were not contained to a pen. I held my rifle close to my chest, ready to raise it up if necessary. Logically, I felt confident that man was superior to animals and I had the thought in the moment that if I just walked steadfast toward these creatures, they would scatter. If they did not, well my rifle was semiautomatic and I would do what was necessary if attacked.

As I approached these creatures, they did not budge and I could see even more eyes apearing behind them. It was at this point that I realized how dumb I was being. These eyes belonged to cattle. As soon as I had this realization, they came into view. This was one of many pastures that they grazed on, but until this day, they were always penned in a different pasture. As my heart began to calm down, I again laughed at myself as I walked to the tree stand. I guess I thought they were a pack of huge wolves or something. While I would be wise to be on my guard in more wild land, it is probably safe to say that what you think lies within the darkness is far less of a concern than we make it out to be. At least we can laugh about it later.