Should I Get a Saddle or a Climber by Cory Gurman

Saddle Hunting vs. Climber Stands

I still remember the first time I dragged a climber stand through the woods. I was a sophomore in high school, freshly obsessed with deer hunting and exploring the thick shrublands of North Florida. The sun wasn’t even up yet, and I was already soaked in sweat. That climber was heavy, clunky, and loud—but once I was 20 feet up, tucked away in a tree, it felt like I was on top of the world. It gave me what every young hunter wants: confidence. I could see far, shoot farther, and disappear just enough to feel dangerous.

A couple of years later, I started hearing the buzz about saddle hunting. Guys on YouTube made it look almost too easy—gliding through the woods with featherweight packs, scaling trees like ninjas, and shooting deer out of setups that looked like they belonged in a jungle gym. I’ll admit, I was skeptical. But after a summer of saving and research, curiosity won out.

Now, with over 150 sits in a saddle and plenty of experience hunting from my climber, I’ve had enough time in both systems to really figure out what works and what doesn’t. If you’re on the fence between the two, or just trying to understand what separates them, here’s everything I’ve learned—straight from the woods, no fluff.

Mobility: Clear Win for the Saddle

There’s just no contest here. Saddles are lighter, quieter, and way more mobile. My climber—one of those “lightweight” aluminum models—is still twice as heavy as my full saddle setup. When you’re hiking into unfamiliar public land, or bouncing between ridges during the rut, that weight makes a big difference.

But it’s not just about what’s on your back. Tree selection plays a huge role too. Climbers require tall, straight, branch-free trees—which, let’s be honest, are unicorns in a lot of the country. Especially in Florida swamps or those gnarly Appalachian ridges. I’ve lost count of how many perfect spots I’ve found, only to realize there wasn’t a single climber-friendly tree in sight.

Saddles, on the other hand? They let you work with what’s there. Crooked, split, leaning trees—doesn’t matter. If I can get a tether around it, I can hunt it.

Now, I won’t lie—my first few saddle setups weren’t exactly graceful. Wrapping ropes, placing sticks, leveling a tiny platform in the dark—it’s a process. But once you get the reps in, setup becomes smooth and efficient. I’m usually hunting within 10 to 15 minutes. And way quieter than I ever was with a climber.

Comfort: Climber Takes the Crown (Most of the Time)

This is where the climber still holds its own. If I know I’m settling in for an all-day sit—especially during peak rut near a food source—I’m probably grabbing my climber. With the footrest out, back bar behind me, and my feet kicked up, it’s basically a recliner in a tree.

Saddle hunting has its own kind of comfort, but it’s not passive. You’re constantly shifting weight between your hips and feet. Add in cold weather or a long sit, and you’ll feel it. A good back band helps a lot, and learning to tweak your tether height throughout the hunt can make a huge difference—but it still requires more engagement from your body.

For me, once I started training my core and got used to maintaining a more “athletic” posture, saddle comfort improved dramatically. But if you’ve got back issues or just prefer to kick back and relax in the tree, a climber is definitely more forgiving.

Shooting Opportunities: Advantage, Saddle

This one honestly surprised me. When I first got into saddle hunting, I was nervous about the shot process—twisting around the tree, leaning at weird angles, trying to stay quiet while shifting my feet on a tiny platform. It felt… foreign.

But after some practice in the backyard and a few sketchy early hunts, something clicked. Suddenly, I had shooting angles I’d never dreamed of in my climber. Behind me, beside me, below me—360° access, if I set up right.

In a climber, you’re mostly locked in one direction. Sure, you can stand up and pivot a little, but there are blind spots—especially on your off-shoulder side. The saddle doesn’t have those limitations. Once you learn how to maneuver, the flexibility is incredible.

Of course, it takes a lot of practice. Drawing while suspended, aiming at odd angles, and making micro-adjustments without alerting nearby deer—none of that is automatic. But once you get comfortable with it, the saddle opens up shots that simply aren’t possible from a fixed platform.

Safety and Stealth

Both options are safe—if you use them correctly. But in my experience, the margin for error feels a little wider with climbers.

I’ve had moments in my climber where bark gave way, or one side shifted awkwardly as I was climbing. And let’s not even talk about the screech of metal on bark when adjusting the top section in the dark. Deer might not always bolt, but you can bet they know something’s up.

With a saddle, once I’m tied in with my lineman’s belt and tether, I feel locked in. There’s no “unattached moment” during setup or teardown. And navigating through the brush with a slim, quiet setup is just plain easier. No giant frame banging into saplings or scraping through palmettos.

So… Which Should You Choose?

Here’s the real talk:

●      Go with a saddle if you want maximum mobility, flexibility with tree choice, and don’t mind investing some time into learning the system. It’s especially great for public land hunters, or anyone who likes to stay on the move and adapt on the fly.

●      Stick with a climber if you hunt the same spots regularly, prioritize comfort, and prefer a straightforward, no-fuss setup. They’re still excellent tools, particularly on private land with known tree setups.

Final Thoughts

I still use both. If I’m heading to a familiar food plot for an all-day sit during rifle season, I’ll pack the climber. But if I’m slipping into thick bedding cover on a cold morning, or exploring new public land before work, the saddle is coming with me.

Saddle hunting didn’t replace my climber—it just gave me more options. And in hunting, having options is everything.

Whatever you choose, don’t cut corners on safety gear. Invest in quality ropes, a solid harness, and a platform you trust. Then get out there, practice your setup, and spend as much time in the tree as you can.

Because the best gear in the world won’t mean a thing until you’re 20 feet up, heart pounding, watching that first deer step into range.