Gearing Up For November 1

The sights, the smells, the changes

Once August comes to an end, the trapper will want to think about the upcoming season for real. That holds true for a trapper who gets to drive to the post office or Canadian Tire during the trapping months—us, we’ll have ordered everything we need back in April. That leaves me to sit back, relax and contemplate the many changes that come with the fall season. Even though I secretly wish for just one more summer day, I’m looking forward to the quiet time before Nov. 1, when trapping, for us out here, starts.

See, we don’t have many beavers (their season opens Oct. 1) and we won’t trap the pair we have here on the lake because they’ll keep the water level high, fixing and upgrading their dam (which sits close to where the lake water will then drain into the river) so that it won’t break and leave them vulnerable to predators.

Float planes are pulled out of the water either at the beginning or middle of October; alas, I’m wondering when I’ll be hearing the last small plane of the season. Also, there won’t be any more canoeists standing in the yard, as paddling time is over (it would be quite chilly, paddling downriver, looking into channels that are covered with a fine sheet of ice). Will yesterday be the last time this year that we’ll catch a pike out of this lake? Lots to mull over … especially, do I dare wait til tomorrow to go cranberry hunting one more time?

The Yukon is truly a paradise, once the mosquitoes and black flies have died off and the nights have gotten cooler, ripening and sweetening the berries to be gathered. The lake becomes a glassy mirror, reflecting the yellow larch needles and the different browns and reds from the berry bushes, buck brush and fireweed. The dark sky will be split by northern lights.

And the smell! Do you like the decaying forest floor? Leaves disintegrating; black mushrooms that look like poop. I do like the crinkling of leaves underfoot … checking on the squirrel population while I walk. Do I see a midden or a place covered in cone “empties” … a place they frequent to eat cone seeds? They have, hopefully, by now, scurried to find a territory all their own to defend. The buzzing of dragonflies is being replaced by the bugling of a string of sandhill cranes flying over, as early as the middle of September. A bald eagle swoops down like a rock, trying to catch a duck. The grey jays, the ravens and the grizzly will have cleaned up the gut pile from the moose we shot (seems bears are not really interested in eating red currants, as I’m still picking them).

Once the tundra swans stop over for a night at the end of September, I know there’s not much time left to get organized before I’ll be asking myself, all winter long, where that toboggan is, because I haven’t stored it properly before the snow buried it. What else to do before snowfall?

A trapper’s preparations

• Fix marten boxes (we leave ours out, a few trees over from where they’ll hang when trapping. The bear might still find them and play).
• Check traps. Soak in hot paraffin wax, if needed. They’ll be faster, due to less friction. That way they won’t rust and will keep my hands clean. 
• Build more squirrel snares (my goal, this season, is to snare 200). They won’t pay for the gas I need for the snowmachine—not like in the early days! I won’t have made a big dent in this fur bearer’s population, either.
• See if the snowmachine will start and have all the tools and spare parts ready. It pays to have all your supplies at home before the end of summer. If not and you forgot to order that spare belt, well, I guess you’ll be using snowshoes instead of your snowmachine this winter.
• Check all roofs for leaks and put new tarps on your wood sheds. Check and oil your rifles, sharpen axes and skinning knives, and pack your lures into the little cooler you’ll be taking with you when out working. I empty the 45-gallon rainwater-filled drums that we keep for wildlife fire emergencies … no fun looking at a solid block of ice, all winter long.
• Prepare your firewood for the winter. A game-changer “he” is—our wood splitter. Never had one out here before. It sure feels good not ending up with a sore shoulder at night. Do not procrastinate about firewood: order a load of green (cheaper, too, I’m sure) each year, if space permits, so that eventually, three years from now, you’ll be looking smug and will be heating dry wood each season. Nothing more embarrassing Up North than having to order a load of dry firewood at Christmas time.

In the evenings, checking and preparing comes to a stop and we enjoy an hour of reading under an LED bulb that hardly uses any juice from the solar-powered batteries. We will be waiting for one more critter (the otter) to show, having to investigate before the lake freezes solid. Now we will be truly alone until April. Will there be enough snow (we need 40 centimetres on the ground to go trapping by snowmachine)? Or do we strap on the snowshoes? Will the lake be safe to travel on or do we have to go to the ridge?

Take your shovel to fill trenches with snow, so that you can drive across them. Pack your come-along, a change of clothes, snacks, tea, the emergency First Aid pack. I don’t get to sleeping in, anymore, as daylight is money. Very late fall, up to Christmas, is when trapping is at its best, because the furbearer numbers are highest then. 

Be safe out there, and buy fur now. You can do so at the Yukon Trappers Association annual Fur and Craft Sale event at the Elks Hall, in Whitehorse, on Oct. 25.