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.

It finally happened. After a decade of telling people I would “just fill my tag on opening day of archery and be done with it,” the bull screamed into my bugles an hour into the opener. It dropped 75 ...