Be Careful What You Ask For (copy) (copy)
“There are only two tragedies in life: one is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it,” Oscar Wilde
Phil and Tim are veterans while Ken is a newbie. It’s an impromptu guy’s weekend at the cabin. The weather is unpredictable and its hard to schedule things in advance in January but things worked out. I laid out my trapline two weeks ago and plan to run it for another week. Ken expressed an interest in learning some basics. Phil and Tim are always up for helping on the line, especially if the weather allows motorized transit as opposed to slogging through a foot of snow. Both have experienced that joy and prefer the memory over a new adventure.
Ken arrives Friday afternoon and we run the line. I explain some basics of trap placement and the difference between a leg hold and a DP (dog-proof) trap. Despite three dozen traps around the place, we strike out – its been slow all season. A few sets have been bothered and we fix them back. If you don’t trap it can be a surprise that critters can visit a set and not get caught. I’m guessing I catch around a third of the visitors. Having trapped here for over a decade, some of the animals have become adept at robbing my sets and even exposing and disabling a trap. Smaller animals (chipmunks, field mice), too light to fire a trap, also learn to grab a free meal.
Max and his boys helped last weekend and we caught his dog by accident – sore foot but otherwise uninjured. I pulled the trap and saved it so I could show Ken how to make a set. I show him the basic “dirt hole”, making sure he samples the aroma of some of the lures and bait. I also make sure he knows my methods are one of one. Every trapper I know has his/her own processes that can differ quite widely. Its definitely more learned art than science.
I have several game cameras monitoring my sets. They haven’t been checked yet so Ken and I switch out the SD cards for viewing. Phil and Tim arrive later and, over pizza, share some of their more memorable stories of past trapping seasons. We stay up late enjoying the company and adult beverages. The good thing about trapping is that you’re not required to get up before dawn. After coffee, biscuits and gravy we fire up the computer.
The striking thing about the pictures is the paucity of predators – certainly different than years past. The sets have been visited by crows and curious deer but during the two weeks, most sets have no predator photos. We get pictures of one racoon, a couple of opossums, two coyotes and a bobcat – none caught. Every cam has photos of deer and we identify at least six different bucks that survived the hunting season.
We load into the UTVs and run the line. There’s been a dusting of snow overnight and the place is beautiful but again no catches. The monotony of an empty line is interrupted when we retrieve the remnants of a weather balloon (absent the electronics package) from Hogback. It turns out that Tim is pretty handy with a grapple. Phil has a new rifle and we spend part of the afternoon getting it zeroed. We help Tim place a cell phone-enabled game cam in one of his favorite spots. For dinner Tim makes Cajun shrimp pasta in cream sauce and then more story telling. Sunday, I make waffles and we run the line again – again, nothing – but still a fine weekend.
We started trapping because we weren’t happy with our hunting results and were suspicious that predators, especially coyotes, were taking lots of fawns. We spent a lot of time and treasure learning the craft which, by definition, means we learned a lot about the animals and came to respect them. This season was the best we’ve had in years in terms of bucks taken and our cams show several bucks left over. Our predator population has declined and we’re trapping fewer. This is the result we were after. Its cause for celebration and a pat on the back, right? We say that and try to convince each other but its clear our feelings are conflicted. We can’t seem to muster the expected elation.
I’m reminded of a scene from Lonesome Dove. Call and Gus have spent their lives chasing bad guys and have succeeded in eradicating most from their corner of the frontier. Yet instead of satisfaction, they express feelings of emptiness and sadness. They miss the thing they set out to eliminate…almost as if they, in the process, eliminated a part of themselves.
We don’t chase bad guys. We set out to have fewer coyotes and more deer - a different balance, if you will. Yet at some point the process – the relationship to the place and the animals – becomes more important than the result. Fortunately I’m not good enough to get rid of ‘em all. The ’yotes will be around long after I’m gone. That’s a comforting thought.
