Bowhunting in the early 1960s, hunting from trees required either nailing steps to a tree trunk and constructing a crude stand, or simply climbing a tree and standing, or sitting, on a limb. None of that should now be considered as options.

In our defense, in the 1960s we did not know any better. No one I knew had even heard about a manufactured tree stand. Maybe none existed.

Even the nature of deer was, or at least seemed, different in those now long gone years. We only climbed 6 feet to 10 feet off the ground. I can not recall ever seeing a deer look up.

We hunted with long bows or recurve bows, using wood arrows and usually Bear Razorheads that had two main blades and two smaller blades. We took some deer.

My first upgrade on bows was when I purchased a Browning Nomad Stalker in the late 1960s. It was a very short recurve bow. The small size made it very nice for hunting from trees. Never mind that the string pinched the fingers. No one ever told us that was a problem.

Mechanical releases that would have eliminated the string pinch issue were unknown.

Not long after I returned from my time in the Army, the first widely available climbing tree stand came onto the market. It was a small platform that attached to a tree trunk with a metal band covered with rubber. To climb you had to hug the tree and pull yourself up, then use the platform to stand erect and pull up again. I was in my early 20s then. Climbing by hugging tree trunks was not a problem considering what a huge improvement this was over any way we hunted from trees in the past.

Before long a second part used for pulling the hunter up rather than hugging the tree trunk became available.

Safety belts were not yet available. Falls were common, but we still did not often climb higher than about 12 feet.

The fall, actually a series of falls, took place while bowhunting in New York. I located a good game trail in the small area, about 15 acres, I was allowed to hunt. But the only tree close to that trail was too small, and it had smooth bark, a recipe for trouble. Just when I got where I wanted to be, the tree stand slid down the trunk with me hugging the trunk going along for the ride. It caused no serious damage, though it did leave me with a nasty scrape starting just above my belt and continuing across my chin, nose and forehead.

With no consideration of giving up, back up the tree I went, only to slide down again soon after getting to the desired height. Almost immediately, down the tree stand and I again slid. Sliding over the same scrape hurt more the second time.

A big buck would walk along that trail. I just felt certain. Back up I went again, this time stopping a little higher where a lump on the tree trunk might make the strap more secure. Wrong again. Just as I was gathering the confidence to release the tree trunk and haul up my bow, the strap slipped over the bump and down the tree stand and I went a third time.

This time, sliding over the deepening scrape across my belly, chest and face was much more unpleasant. I vividly recall letting out an involuntary moan when my butt hit the ground.

Of course no one would be so foolish as to try climbing that tree again. Well, I will just claim that I was being persistent. This time I climbed a little higher still, breaking off a dead limb and placing the strap over what remained. It held.

Yes, a big buck did come along, a beautiful 10-point that slowly walked to my shooting lane, but just enough to take head and neck into the open lane. Then another hunter only about 30 yards away climbed down from his tree to water a bush. The first sound he made stopped the 10-point. The next sound sent it running in the opposite direction.

A couple years later while hunting the same small wood patch I slipped while getting out of an old, wet, hand-made stand and ladder, falling about 8 feet, hitting a 2×4 lower ladder step. From that step I bounced over a 10-foot bank and landed in a multiflora rose bush. For some time, not too long, I laid there unconscious.

When I regained my senses I felt no pain, but realized that everything was not right. For weeks I had an ugly colored bruise on the small of my back, and felt a lot of pain. But I was still in my 20s and was not willing to admit I was hurting. It was only several years later that I was asked by a doctor while being treated for something else, “When did you break your back?”

Before the 1970s ended I had my first compound bow, a Ben Pearson. Safety belts became widely available, though expected life expectancy hanging with a safety belt around the waist was only 15 minutes.

Tree stands improved steadily. Safety belts gave way to harnesses. Now all stands I am have seen come with body harnesses, extensive instructions and safety precautions. Pay heed. Learn from the mistakes of the past. Hunt safely, please.