Hiking into a hunting area with a tree stand strapped to my back is a labor of love that I’ve endured many, many times. It’s also one that I don’t need to endure again, thanks to saddle hunting.

The swamp was the place to be. It was where all the whitetails came from, retreated to, and felt safe enough to move in daylight in the high-pressure public-land area I was hunting. But as I clanged ...