I have never shot a bear over bait. It is one of the most common methods used in Maine and it’s the one method that I have not been successful at.

Ten years ago, we were in the midst of a nasty referendum to preserve the methods that we are able to use to manage the black bear population here in Maine. I had never hunted bear before. But in an effort to learn more about the work that goes into having a successful bear hunt, I reached out to a few avid hunters in southern Maine and they were gracious enough to teach me.

First, I learned how to set up and manage a bait site. I spent hours in the hot summer heat unpacking Little Debbie’s and Hostess treats. Those magical science experiments never mold and they barely ferment. I have never eaten one since!

We packed 5-gallon buckets full and hauled them into the woods to go into a larger barrel that would be chained, usually to a tree, to prevent it from moving. These barrels are the three-sectioned, large blue ones. Hunters will cut a square, close to 12 inches x 12 inches, in the middle and it becomes a way to gauge the size of the bear when they come into the site. If a bear’s back is below the square it means they are too small. If their back is above the top of the cut-out square, you want that bear! It is a great visual to help ensure we are taking mature bears. Plus, if there is a sow with cubs, chances are you will see the cubs come in and play before you see mama.

I filled and refilled the bait sites that fall and spent a lot of time sitting in the stand. Still, no bears. Just a lot of squirrels and some fat raccoons. Bears will choose natural foods like berries and acorns over anything we haul out there. I anticipate that the comments section will argue this fact, but hunters and biologists will always tell you the same thing — and they are the ones spending the time and money in the woods.

In October, I contacted a local guide who was offering one-day hound hunts. I had never hunted with dogs, not even for birds, so I wasn’t really sure what to expect. It was dark when we met up and I hopped into his truck to head for the woods. As the sun came up we turned onto a dirt road and let the dogs out to stretch their legs. They were sniffing and yipping and enjoying themselves when the tone of their barks changed. I had never heard anything like it. They went from playing and goofing off to working and they knew that they were on a mission.

They took off running and howling through the woods.

I knew what I wanted this hunt to be and not be. I told the guide that if any of the dogs got so much as a scratch from a bear, I was done with the hunt. Dogs are a critical part of a guide’s success, and I did not need a bear that badly.

Watching the GPS, we followed the dogs movement. It was our hope to park the truck and try to catch the bear crossing the road. Traversing up the mountain, we rounded one corner and stopped to listen for the hounds. The youngest of the dogs had separated from the group and was roaming around trying to pick up the scent. My guide picked him up and put him in the truck. Before we climbed back into the truck, my guide took out his GPS to check the location of each of the dogs.

“You got a bear,” he said to me.

“How do you know?” I asked.

He pointed to the GPS screen. Each dog held bears differently. One liked to be at the base of the tree, barking. Another preferred to stand about 20 yards away, looking up at the bear. They had stopped traveling.

With a combination of nerves and excitement, we parked the truck and started hiking up the mountain to where the dogs were. Some of my guide’s friends had tagged along and brought their kids with them. They let us get a head start before joining us in the woods.

Up until that point, the only bear I had ever seen was the one that would come out in the springtime and eat the seeds out of my landlord’s bird feeder. I would sit at the window and watch as the bear would sit on its haunches and proceeded to eat as much of the bird seed as it could before my landlord would come outside and shoo her away.

Now, as we climbed the mountain and heard the dog’s barks getting louder, I grew more nervous and excited. When we reached the tree that the bear had climbed, my guide looked up and commented, “That’s a good bear.” The second group joined us and more comments were made about the size of the bear. A benefit of hound hunting is that when a bear does go up the tree, you can see how big it is and decide if you want to harvest it or not. If it is a sow with cubs or a bear that the hunter does not want to take, you call to the dogs and walk off. The dogs are either done for the day or go look for another bear, and the bear up in the tree can hang out there for a while or come down and go about its day.

But I knew that the bear in the tree would be my bear. We found the best position for me that allowed me to have a clear view of the bear with no branches in the way. I made a clean, ethical shot. One shot. When we walked over to the bear, now on the ground, he seemed to just get bigger. “I bet he’s 350 or better,” my guide said.

We marked our location on the GPS and headed back to the truck to get the jetsled and ropes. It took us a few hours but we got the bear into the sled and hooked it up the the four-wheeler. The weight of the bear cracked the jetsled and caused a patch of his hair to rub off. It was all a part of the story. When we got to the tagging station, we watched as the numbers climbed higher and higher before resting at 457 pounds! A massive, healthy adult boar that biologists would later age at around 13 years old.

I could not have imagined a more exhilarating hunt. I had a new appreciation for the work that guides do and the training that the dogs have in order to do their job and find bears. There are a lot of emotions that go along with a hunt — excitement, happiness, sadness, gratitude and respect. You take stock of the animal, its life in the wild and acknowledge that you chose to take its life. You give thanks for the meat that will fill your freezer.

And you remember the story of the hunt and that first bear for years to come.

Erin Merrill, an award-winning writer based in central Maine, writes “Hunt & Harvest” monthly. She welcomes emails at: [email protected].