Expand mobile version menu

Interviews

Insider Info

A few trappers and hunters have one regret about their professions. "I wish I had known how political the whole concept was going to get," says Pete Buist, who traps and hunts animals for a living in Alaska.

Trappers suspiciously view outsiders -- those not in the profession -- as possible animal rights "zealots," as Buist calls them, who have been known to harass trappers.

Certainly, there are strong opinions about this profession. Those on the opposite side of the fence don't agree with the use of animals for human benefit -- in this case, for fur and food.

The trappers say, however, that they are actually considered the first conservationists, controlling animal populations and collecting vital biological data for wildlife and environmental organizations.

The process by which they trap and hunt is not inhumane, they say. Educational classes are ongoing that teach the least painful methods of euthanizing animals trapped or hunted, such as muskrat, nutria, wolves, bears, moose, beaver and mink.

Protesters are able to strengthen their cause by targeting a segment of the population. "So many people wear leather, so many people eat at McDonald's, it is hard to get people angry about that," says Carol Wynne of the Fur Information Council.

In fact, says Wynne, fur trappers are working with conservation officers to trap these animals without harming the environment.

Wisconsin trapper Lee Sillars, who likes being close to nature, says contemporary trappers are able to learn methods humane to the animals, which is much different from when he got his start many decades ago at the age of 10.

"I respect the animals I trap and do it humanely so the animals don't suffer," he explains. Sillars says the biggest change to the profession is the newer, more humane equipment.

There are more furbearers now than there were before regulated trapping and wildlife management, according to the National Trappers Association. Sillars agrees. "Nowadays there are more furbearing animals than there were years ago, so it shows proper management and use of fur resources."

Sillars says he traps to keep animals in their population frame healthy, and to keep them from damaging the environment.

Trappers in Louisiana can certainly attest to nutrias' damage to the wetlands. Under regulations set by states, trappers bring nutria populations to manageable levels. At the same time, trappers can earn money from the pelts, says Louisiana wildlife biologist Noel Kinler.

For Buist, his interest in the profession is monetary, but also quite straightforward. "Trapping is a common practice in Alaska, both commercial and subsistence. Like most people who live here, it is just what you do in the winter," he explains.

Each trapper works their trapline, a route where they set traps to catch animals. Learning each animal's biological habits is essential to choosing the right traps for the right animals.

For example, says Sillars, coyotes are detected by droppings and leftovers from its kill. "Coyotes like certain places to roam. One has to know canine habits to locate such places," he explains.

Buist's trapline is 80 miles long. At one time, Buist and other Alaskans used dog teams to travel the trapline in the winter, which took two to three days. He sometimes spent the night in cabins he built along the trapline. Now, he says he uses a snowmobile, which is quicker -- he can usually set traps in a day.

Year-round, there is work on the trapline, much like a farmer maintains corn and tobacco crops and chicken coops. In May, says Buist, trappers in Alaska hunt muskrat and black bears, which dwell in berry patches. June, he says, is the beginning of the fire season. Firefighting is how many trappers fill their summers, says Buist.

July and August is when many trappers and hunters swap guns and traps for nets and poles. For example, in Louisiana, shrimp and crab are caught in the summer, says Kinler.

In September, Buist hunts moose. In October, the trapline is set up to prepare for the trapping season, which starts in November. During December and January, there are only two hours of daylight in Alaska and trappers trap lynx, marten and fox.

In February, when there is more of the daylight needed to set traps, Buist hunts wolves and sets beaver traps, which involves cutting through three to four feet of ice. In March, wolf hunting continues.

"Nature doesn't take sides," says Sillars, referring to the often-precarious environment in which hunters and trappers work. Setting beaver traps seems to have confounded at least two trappers, both of whom fell through ice in temperatures of around -30. "I got out [of the water] and my clothes froze almost solid," remembers Sillars.

This past winter, Buist had a mishap that led to a dislocated left wrist. "I had to drive the snowmobile one handed for 120 miles to get back to town," he says.

Besides hypothermia and dislocated bones, Sillars says trappers can cut themselves on axes or knives, drown or get lost. Trappers and hunters must be able to survive under harsh wilderness conditions. "You are at the mercy of the environment and often you are working alone," says Kinler.