My wife, Leanne, two sons and I spent Saturday afternoon at a Christmas tree farm searching for the perfect tree to adorn our living room. It was a cut-your-own place, but lucky for me, they did have some pre-cut trees ready, and without too much encouragement from me, Leanne chose one of those. We (meaning Leanne, of course) spent quite a bit of time looking at each tree, evaluating its width and height and finally settled on a nice tree to our (her) liking.

While waiting on Leanne and my oldest son, Drew, to get back from a hayride, I got to thinking about how choosing a tree to climb when you’re in the woods is very similar to choosing a Christmas tree. You try and find one that has the right width and height, isn’t crooked, has branches in all the right places, etc.

So, when I ventured to the woods Sunday afternoon, one would assume I would have had those things in mind seeing as how I just spent the previous afternoon thinking about it. (Notice I said “assume.”)

Anyway, I found a great spot where three trails merged on the edge of a field and decided to find the “perfect” tree to climb. Unlike Leanne and the Christmas tree search, however, I simply chose the first tree that looked good. From the outset, I thought I made a good choice. It wasn’t too big, but not too small, either. It didn’t have any branches I had to cut on the way up and so therefore I thought it to be the perfect tree. Man, was I wrong.

After I got my stand attached to the tree, my safety harness strapped on and began my ascent, I realized this particular tree got really skinny in a hurry. Not only that, the oak branches I thought I could climb right through were attached to the pine I was climbing via a network of vines, making it impossible to break through unless I did quite a bit of pruning and sawing, which I didn’t have time for since I had lollygagged around on the walk in. So, at about 8 feet up, I decided to settle in. I fastened the seat of my Summit to the tree, sat down, pulled my bow up and knocked an arrow.

After about 15 minutes I decided it would probably be a good idea to stand up and see where my best shooting lanes were located in the off chance a deer came by. Lucky for me, I chose to do this before a deer walked through. As I stood, the oak – and the vines attached to it – attacked my head and face; when I practiced drawing, the limb/vines to my right took hold of my arm and the branch to my left completely blocked any view I thought I had. It was at this point I pulled out the pruners and went to work. Twenty minutes of pruning, pulling, grunting, sawing and making enough noise to alert any deer in the zip code of my presence later, I had a somewhat workable situation.

It wasn’t until I settled back in that I realized what kind of vines were attached to the oak. Anyone care to guess? Yep, my good friend, poison ivy.

It really goes without saying that I didn’t see anything, but I promise the 100 squirrels around me sat in awe at the spectacle and I swear I heard them laugh. I know I saw at least one smile.

Maybe next time I’ll just take a blind. Or take Leanne with me so we (she) can find a tree to our (her) liking. With the homerun she hit with the Christmas tree, it’s worth a shot.