I'd like to tell a brief story about my 17 years of going to Moosehead Lodge and finally seeing a bear and the wonderful people I've met there, (Dick & Ken or Ken & Dick), who gave of their free time of relaxation to come into the blackly infested undergrowth of Messines that I had spent those 17 years in, to help me bring out my bear.

After paying, year in and year out, for carfare and lodging fees, my fine guide and host Mal Taggart (Advertisement) finally gave me a stand that produced a bear worthy of bringing down. Mal had told me he had a good feeling I would get a bear in this new stand.

It was the first day out. I was still excited, as I am the first day of any hunt. I got into my stand and sat down. I was on high alert for the first hour, expecting my bear to step out any second. It was only an hour after having arrived and having had some of Mal's cuisine of soup and coffee and bread. I was up in that tree suffering, trying to remember all of the things I learned from my past hunting trips. "WOULD IT BE OK TO LET THE GAS OUT ALL AT ONCE OR SHOULD I TRY AND SNEAK A LITTLE OUT AT A TIME?" "WAS IT GAS OR WAS IT THE REAL THING?" "SHOULD I TAKE A CHANCE AND WALK AWAY FROM MY STAND TO TRY AND FIND A NICE LOG TO SIT ON WITH MY PANTS DOWN & HOPE SOME BEAR DOESN'T COME TO EAT ME OR GIVE THE BLACKFLIES A GOOD TASTE OF SOME WHITE MEAT?" These are things my guide should have instructed me about, before setting me out all alone in the fierce undergrowth of Moosehead Lodge.

But luck be with me, after not being able to control it and letting quite a few awful blasts of gas out, (some a little wet) a noise brought my attention to the undergrowth off to the right, where I saw this black ball of fur walking in circles. I had a feeling, unfortunately for him, he was down wind of my gas and didn't quite know which way to run. As a matter of fact, I think he passed out. I did take careful aim, sportsman that I am, and put him out of his misery.

At the lodge I was met by my guide's wonderful bride, Corrine, to whom I told my success story. After all of the pleasantries of telling my story about 10 times, Mal's preference as you can tell by the amount of times he sends the same Emails, we looked for any volunteers that would come into the woods to help remove this bear.

Without blinking an eye, out of the approximately 10 people present, two men that I hardly knew, sitting and going over their own very pleasant day of fishing, in their brand new expensive fishing pants, volunteered to come and help me, a perfect stranger. It took them a few moments to get ready; finish their cocktails, put the case of beer back so that it would be there when they returned and other small things, bug repellant and the like.

As we returned back to my special stand, I had to go over the story again, as if they were trying to catch me in a lie or something or maybe Mal just wanted to hear the story again.

When we got to my stand, I directed everyone to where my bear came to it's end. It was necessary for everyone present to renew their application of bug repellant, not for the blackflies but for the horrific odor that still lingered in the area. As a matter of fact, one of the guys mentioned it smelled like Mal's soup that we had for lunch.

To my embarrassment, the bear had a rope tied to one of it's back legs and the other end was tied to a tree stump. I just couldn't believe it. I knew I was in for a big kidding from everyone for years to come.

If you look at the pictures of the hunt in the Moosehead Album, you'll see pictures of me holding the rope, still not believing it, that Mal would tie a bear down for me to shoot. I was in a state of shock. I just couldn't believe he would do that.