Trapping on Sunday, December 5, 2010
I slept in a bit today after having spent some time at a faculty Christmas soiree. However, the sun doesn’t rise until 10:00 A.M., so I had plenty of time to cook pancakes with chocolate chips and still make it out in the field by first light. I was excited and well prepared. Today’s trip marked my first real trapping outing.
My first of two orders had arrived days before, and I organized the snares, conibears, and footholds. I purchased two twenty-foot sections of rebar and cut and welded stakes with the help of a friend. My newly acquired rifle was sighted in, not to military standards but suitable for the time being. I read up as best I could and talked with some reliable locals. I was as ready as I was going to be and I loaded up. My truck’s digital thermometer indicated a mere ten degrees Fahrenheit and the wind-chill, not to mention the exposed four-wheeler, put temperatures around the zero mark, plus or minus a few. With all the equipment and hiking the tundra, I would need cold temperatures to regulate my body heat.
One does have to prepare for hikes in cold temperatures and setting a trap line – even as minimal as the one I had planned – requires a lot of equipment. I wore Under Armor as a base, patched up blue jeans, and insulated overalls. My core was also protected with a light fleece pullover, wool sweater, and a cold-weather Carhart jacket. Granted the jacket was either unzipped or laying in the snow half the time, but hence the advantages of layering, right? My pack included three #110 conibear traps, seven one-foot rebar stakes, a dozen snares, one hammer, hatchet with mini saw stowed in the handle, bear mace, bag of zip-ties, bottle of water, and basic survival kit. Slung over my right shoulder was my .17 HMR and over my left was the heavy load, fourteen two-foot rebar stakes. My feet were protected with insulated boots rated for minus forty degrees, fleece socks and light wool wicking socks. My hands managed better than I thought, even while handling the steel rebar. I usually felt comfortable with just my liners and used my leather gloves only while working.
It was a short, chilly ride before reaching the end of the ridge. As I walked down the embankment, it wasn’t long before I saw fresh tracks in the new snowfall. Clear signs of fox were abundant, and much to my surprise were wolverine tracks to boot. Maybe my cousin would get his wish after all. I’m not as nimble as the fox and had to take a circuitous path to avoid thicket. As I rounded some evergreens, the familiar sounds of clumsy flapping erupted above. Add one spruce hen to the load. I was back on the trail and found a narrow pass suitable for my first snare. I didn’t mind lightening up my load either.
I decided that the one-foot stake was insufficient to secure the snare into place, so I used a two-foot section instead. Once I was content with the loop dangling roughly seven inches off the ground and centered over the trail, I staked two more two-foot sections protruding out of the ground six inches to ensure that my catch would “tangle” and be prevented from chewing his way out. (A note worth mentioning for those uneasy about trapping: Snaring does not asphyxiate animals but rather cuts off the blood supply to the brain. The animal merely passes out, as painless as fainting.)
During the course of the afternoon, I managed to set three other snares similar to the first, but targeting specific species by altering the size of the loop and height off the ground. The real process isn’t actually setting up the snare itself; setting up natural barriers to encourage a particular route takes careful consideration and preparation. Too much clutter will seem unnatural and deter animals but not enough will allow animals to navigate around snares. Unfortunately, these barriers should be established long before trapping season so that animals are already familiar with particular trails. We’ll see.
The three #110 conibears are small body grip traps for catching mink and the like. Along the creek banks are loads of tracks that lead in and out of the embankment. I choose three areas that were highly trafficked and set up the traps at the end of a funnel I made out of sticks and grass. Mink apparently love to get themselves into crawlspaces. Again, we’ll see.
I still have to do a bit more research on the use of foot-holds, probably the hardest trap to use. Anticipating where a coyote, wolf, beaver, or any animal for that matter will step is a lot of guesswork and a lot of trial and error. However, it also requires consistent checking for two reasons: 1) the animal obviously needs to be put down and 2) the traps often freeze up and need to be reset. I’ll get back to you on future endeavors.
So, hopefully after a few days I’ll have some pictures to upload and some stories to share. Until then, goodbye from Alaska!
