How Much Does Beekeeping Actually Cost?

"I want to start beekeeping. How much will it cost me?"

The honest answer: more than the $300 some websites claim, but probably less than you're fearing. The problem is that most cost breakdowns only show you the hive and the bees. They don't mention mite treatments, sugar for feeding, or the queen you might need to replace in month three.

This guide covers every expense—startup and ongoing—so you can plan your budget without surprises.

The Real Cost for One Hive

Here's a complete breakdown based on 2025 pricing from major suppliers:

That's a wide range. Here's what pushes you toward each end:

Budget end ($615–$800): You buy an unassembled hive kit and build it yourself. You get a 3-pound package of bees instead of a nuc. You buy a basic jacket instead of a full ventilated suit. You're handy and don't mind some DIY.

Comfortable end ($800–$1,020): You buy a pre-assembled, pre-painted hive. You purchase a nuc from a local supplier. You invest in quality ventilated gear. You have everything you need without stress.

Breaking Down the Big Expenses

The Hive ($200–$350): A complete Langstroth hive includes two deep brood boxes (where bees raise babies and store winter food), a bottom board, inner cover, outer cover, and frames with foundation. Unassembled kits from Mann Lake or Dadant run $180–$250. Pre-assembled and painted hives cost $280–$350. The wood is the same—you're paying for labor.

The Bees ($150–$250): A 3-pound package of bees with a queen costs $140–$180. A nucleus colony (nuc) costs $175–$250 but includes 5 frames of established comb, brood, and a proven queen. The nuc gives you a 3–4 week head start and significantly better first-year survival. For most beginners, the extra $50–$75 is money well spent. See Packages vs. Nucs vs. Swarms for more.

Protective Gear ($100–$200): Your confidence matters. Nervous beekeepers move jerkily, which agitates bees. A good ventilated suit ($130–$180) keeps you cool and sting-free. Cheaper cotton suits ($60–$90) work but are hot and can still allow stings through. Gloves run $15–$30.

Tools ($40–$70): The smoker is your most important tool—spend $30–$40 on a quality stainless steel model with a heat shield. A good hive tool costs $10–$15. A bee brush is $5–$8. Don't buy the cheapest Amazon smoker; it'll fall apart by August.

Why Two Hives Is Smarter

Every experienced beekeeper will tell you: start with two hives. Here's why it's worth the extra investment.

Insurance against queen problems. If one hive goes queenless (and this happens more than you'd think), you can give them eggs from your other hive to raise a new queen. With one hive, you're scrambling to find a queen supplier who has stock—often too late.

Learning by comparison. Is your hive's behavior normal? You won't know unless you have something to compare it to. Two hives lets you see what "strong" and "weak" actually look like.

Resource sharing. Strong hive, weak hive? You can equalize by moving frames of brood or honey between them. You can't do this with one hive.

Two hives is not twice the price of one—it's roughly 50–60% more, because you're reusing gear. And your odds of success go up dramatically.

Ongoing Annual Costs

Startup costs are one thing. But bees need care year after year. Here's what to budget after year one:

Mite treatments ($30–$60/hive/year): Not optional. You'll treat at least twice a year, sometimes more. Oxalic acid is cheap ($15 for a year's supply) but requires a vaporizer ($40–$100). Formic Pro or Apivar strips cost $20–$30 per treatment.

Sugar for feeding ($20–$40/hive/year): You'll feed heavily in the first year. In subsequent years, you'll still need to feed during dearths and in fall to ensure they have enough winter stores. A 25-pound bag of sugar costs $12–$15.

Replacement frames/foundation ($20–$40/hive/year): Frames break. Foundation gets old. You'll cycle out old comb every few years to reduce disease pressure.

Pollen patties ($10–$20/year): Protein supplement in early spring when natural pollen is scarce.

Miscellaneous ($20–$40/year): Entrance reducers, mouse guards, hive stands, paint, registration fees (usually under $10/year if required).

Budget $100–$200 per hive per year for ongoing maintenance. Your actual costs will vary based on your climate, local forage, and how much you can reuse.

Hidden Costs Nobody Mentions

Here's where budgets blow up:

Replacing dead colonies. The colony loss rate is 55.6%. Even good beekeepers lose hives. If your colony dies, you're looking at another $150–$250 for bees (the wooden hive survives). This is the #1 hidden cost.

Emergency queens. If your queen dies mid-season and your bees can't raise a new one, you need to buy a mated queen ($35–$50). Sometimes they don't accept her, and you buy another one.

Honey extraction equipment. When you finally harvest, you'll need either an extractor ($150–$300) or supplies for crush-and-strain ($30–$50). Many local bee clubs have extractors you can borrow.

Additional boxes. If your colony is thriving, they'll need more room. A medium super with frames runs $60–$80. In a good year, you might need 2–3.

Books and courses. A good beekeeping book is $20–$30. Local beginner courses run $50–$150. Online courses range from free (YouTube) to $300+ (comprehensive programs). The education is worth it—but it's an expense.

Ways to Save Money

Beekeeping doesn't have to break the bank. Here's how to keep costs down without sacrificing quality:

Buy unassembled equipment. You'll save 20–30% on hive woodware. All you need is wood glue, some nails, and a few hours. Painting is mandatory for weather protection—any exterior latex paint works.

Join your local bee club. Members sell used equipment, share extractors, and often give away swarms for free. Dues are typically $20–$40/year—the savings pay for themselves immediately.

Build your own hive stands. Cinder blocks and landscape timbers work fine. No need for fancy commercial stands.

Catch a swarm. Free bees! But this isn't realistic for complete beginners—you need to know what you're doing. Plan to buy your first colony; catch your second.

Don't buy extraction equipment year one. You probably won't harvest anyway. When you do, borrow an extractor from your bee club or use crush-and-strain method (slower but free if you have cheesecloth).

Buy sugar in bulk. Restaurant supply stores sell 50-pound bags for much less per pound than grocery stores.

Will You Ever Break Even?

Let's be honest: if you're getting into beekeeping for profit, you're doing it wrong—at least at the hobby scale.

A healthy, established hive in a good location produces 30–60 pounds of surplus honey per year. At farmers' market prices ($10–$15/pound), that's $300–$900 worth of honey. After startup costs and annual expenses, it takes 3–5 years of successful beekeeping to "break even."

And that assumes no colony losses, which is unrealistic. Most hobbyists never recoup their costs in honey sales.

But that's not the point. People don't get into beekeeping for the ROI. They get into it because it's endlessly fascinating, deeply satisfying, and connects them to something older than civilization itself. The honey is a bonus. The beeswax for candles is a bonus. The bragging rights at dinner parties are a bonus.

If you need this hobby to pay for itself, you'll be disappointed. If you view the cost as the price of an education in one of humanity's oldest partnerships, you'll be thrilled.

The Real Question

Can you afford $600–$1,600 to start, plus $100–$200/year ongoing? If yes, you can afford beekeeping.

Can you afford to lose that investment if your first colony doesn't make it? If not, start with one hive and know the risks.

The best investment you can make isn't equipment—it's education. Take a class, join a club, find a mentor. Knowledge is what turns a $1,000 expenditure into a thriving apiary versus a $1,000 lesson in what not to do.