Maine is a beautiful state, and rightfully earns it's keep as "Vacationland". Every year, millions of people flock to Maine to enjoy our rugged coastline, freshwater fishing, leaf peeping, and of course, big game hunting! One of the biggest draws to Maine for hunters is the famous black bear. Guides and hunters alike anxiously await for the "Dog Days" of Summer to start hauling their bait to remote sites deep in Maine's forests.

Since attending Unity College in Maine back in 2005, I have been exposed to numerous thrilling experiences. I met one of my best friends and hunting buddy, fellow Mainehunters Pro-Staff Josh Johnson at Unity College. Together, we harvested deer and turkeys as the seasons would allow, and our passion for videotaping our hunts grew more with every passing season. Josh and I decided to tackle baiting black bears ourselves in 2007 and 2008. Fairly green to the whole thing, we struck out with one goal, kill a black bear with archery tackle. We did just that, and then some. In 2007, I harvested a beautiful boar that tipped the scales at 418 pounds. The arrowed beast only ran 13 yards before the famed death moan echoed through the woods. The bear made Pope and Young, and possibly is in the Top 50 all time with a bow in Maine.  

2008's season brought us back to our bait sites, and with a crew of friends from Ohio. Many laughs took place over the course of the week, and from the same tree, on the same site, just one day shy from when I shot my monster, Josh arrows a big boar! We knew this bear very well, as we nicknamed him "Scarface". This battler was missing his nose, parts of his lip, and one of his K-9's pierced through andgot stuck through his upper lip. Josh's bear weighed in at 322 pounds, and will also be one of the Top 50 ever recorded with a bow in Maine. ersy in Maine the last few years with bear baiting, trapping, ethics, etc., has anyone stepped back to look what hunters put back into the resources? Unfortunately, not enough press gets out telling the general public what spto protect and conserve our lands. It's laughable to think that these proposed "Anti's" believe they are saving the animals by lobbying to ban hunting, trapping etc. When in fact, it's hunters and fisherman who are the true original conservationist! In 1937, hunters lobbied Congress to pass the Pittman-Robinson Act, an 11 percent tax on hunting equipment which, combined with license fees, now provides $700 million a year for protection of wildlife habitat on public lands. How much money do organizations like PETA contribute? IT's us, the sportsman who get out there, and get our hands dirty in order to protect the resources we love, and pass to our children and grandchildren, as they were passed down to us.

I had the opportunity to see how our license fees go to work by tagging along with Maine bear biologist, Randy Cross. We ventured out to a den site where we had hoped to find a familiar sow that had cubs just a few weeks back. Lucky for us, the hike in was worth it. We did blood work on the hibernating sow, as well as tagged her cubs for further tracking research. Each cub was weighed, and monitored briefly for any health complications. The sow proved to be extremely healthy. At eight years old, this sow had four cubs, which is almost unheard of. Three young boars and a young sow made the litter of cubs, and weren't they cute. I had the opportunity to take a few pictures below...

Justin Blouin 

So, the next time someone puts down a hunter, let them know that it's because of hunters, license fees and the hardworking folks at DIF&W that those people get to even see wildlife in Maine, because without the sportsman's contribution, there would be no WILD in wildlife.

Turkey Slam Quest 

By Tony Tora 

As part of my quest for a turkey slam, I made several trips to South Dakota to hunt with a buddy of mine. But he just had no time to scout or secure permission on private ground, so the hunting was difficult. It is gorgeous country, including areas of the Black Hills that Custer roamed.

We were looking for a new ranch to hunt mule deer, as the one we had gone to for years was now leased out to another outfitter. We found a great ranch in the next town, a veritable turkey paradise. With limited roosts due to the open country, the pines on the knolls behind our cabins were filled with turkeys. On our first trip out, myself, my 14-year old son Joe and my hunting buddy Charlie arrived after a dusty 90 mile drive on dirt roads through some of the most magnificent country I have ever seen! Wether it was Devils Tower or having to stop to let mule deer, antelope, cows, even turkeys cross the road or just the vastness of the area, it was almost surreal.

After walking up the hill out back to roost some toms for the opening morning hunt, we settled in to our cabin for the night. In the morning Joe and I set up behind a downed log, as it would hide a fidgety boy better than anything else we could find! At flydown we watched dozens of birds walk by and then we spotted 2 jakes and a nice tom about 100 yards out. I worked them to about 70 yards, then the jakes would come a little further and then run back near the tom, who promptly thumped them! They then came back to around 70 yards but hung up. The big tom started to leave, so I took my gobble call and walked up the draw behind us about 50 yards and gobbled. Joe said “here they come"!  I ran back to the log and sure enough they were walking right in, then they started to run in. I guess they thought the tom had moved on, but anyway they stopped 10 feet away on the other side of the log. On a 3 count we took off our safeties, stood, and got a double for our first Merriams turkeys!

I will carry the memory of that morning on that frosty hill with my son for all my days. Sharing it with him made it all the sweeter. They rest of the trip the birds really had a case of shutmouth, and we only got a chance at 1 tom for Charlie on the 3^rd day. I acted as guide for him, and we stalked some birds for over 4 hours before finally getting a chance high in the rimrock. It was more of a mule deer hunt than a turkey hunt, with lots of glassing and climbing, but the turkey gods have a sense of humor and Charlie missed, plain and simple.