Never trust a meteorologist

November 15-17, 2013: Undecided about the weather, I made the choice to take the quad instead of the Ski-doo. When we last left the trapline, there was about 2-inches of snow on the ground, far too little for a snowmobile. The meteorologists, or rather, those who can be wrong 100% of the time and still keep their jobs, were calling for 10-15 centimetres (4-6 inches) of snow on Saturday. A quad can go pretty good in 10-inches or less, so I figured I was safe.

I arrived Friday afternoon, planning on checking the north end of the trapline after I was unloaded and ready to go. I would do the south end on Saturday. The weather was good and I looked forward to checking about 30 traps. On our last check, we noticed that several of our marten boxes had been robbed with the trap hanging, snapped, out of the box. Two ermine, however, had been caught. After checking my first six boxes this time and finding three of them robbed of their bait, two empty and one with another ermine, I confirmed that our ermine population was very high; in fact, their telltale tracks were everywhere. Not so good when you're trying to catch marten and the ermine are putting boxes out of commission.

ThIs ermine met his demise on Unnamed Trail.

My Friday check didn't go very well, as all I caught was two ermine and a squirrel that decided it needed some meat in its diet. The squirrel entered a vertical plastic box at our big squirrel midden that we'll set some snares on in December. I'd never caught a squirrel in a vertical box before but he was big, skinned out well, and should fetch a couple of bucks.

I checked our bait station and discovered that two trails were now established into it. I couldn't tell by the tracks what they were because of the melted down snow, but the trails were definite. I didn't have room on the quad to bring any bait (moose and deer hides), so I hoped I'd have time on Sunday morning to drop some off.

The big squirrel that thought he was an ermine.

I awoke Saturday morning to a big surprise. It had snowed just as predicted, only it had snowed twice as much as predicted. I was now concerned about traveling by quad and cursed my decision to take it instead of the Ski-doo. This snow was heavy too, not light and powdery. It would be tough to push with the quad. I filled the quad with gas, loaded it up with bait and supplies, and was soon pushing snow down Cabin Trail. I could tell the quad was working a lot harder than normal but I seemed to be going okay.

Surprise! You can't see it in the photo, but it was snowing, and it snowed all day.

At my first box on South Trail, I had another ermine. This guy was greedy, as many of them are. The smart ones will just bypass the trap trigger and sit in the box and eat, going back and forth until there's nothing left. Others, like this one, like to eat at home and try to take the bait out of the box. Quite often we'll find an ermine and some bait caught together in the trap, other times it's just the bait and sometimes just the ermine, and sometimes it's nothing at all. This greedy fellow had the duck's head through the trigger wires before the trap went off. I had to pry the duck carcass out of his mouth.

Notice the duck's head is almost perfectly encircled by the trigger wires.

I managed to check another six or seven sets before I hit the Crossover Trail. Of those sets, at least five were foiled by ermine. I should have put pans on my triggers, which would have meant a much higher success rate on the ermine. Not catching them means they'll just be back for another meal, taking a box out of use in the process.

It took me a long time to get to the Crossover Trail and twice I had to shovel and push my way up a couple of inclines that weren't really that bad. I knew the hill on the Crossover Trail would be the deciding factor. If I could get up that hill, I should be able to get up any other hill the rest of the way. The snow, however, was getting deeper all the time, making it tough going.

I finally reached the hill on the Crossover Trail about three hours into the day. Time was becoming a concern, but so was the hill I was now looking at. And so it began, I'd take a run at the hill as fast as I could and once I spun out and couldn't get any higher, I'd get off the quad and start kicking the snow out of the way for another 10-feet or so ahead of my high point. Then, I'd back down the hill to where I could get a good run at it again, and then repeat the process. Bound and determined to reach the top, an hour and a half later, I succeeded.

I took these two photos on the way back. You can see here where I really chewed up my trail.

It's a long, fairly steep hill. Nothing for a snowmobile, but a challenge for a quad going up it.

Once I was on South Trail again, my problems began anew where the trail gets a little boggy. Unable to tell where the proper ruts were to follow because of the snow, I kept getting sucked into the wrong spots, getting stuck in the muck and snow each time.

When I finally reached the top of Broken Bridge Hill, I had a decision to make. It had taken me more than four hours to get to this point, more than three hours longer than normal. If I committed down the hill, there was no getting back up it. The hill has a four-hundred foot drop in elevation from top to bottom. If I got stuck on the other side somewhere and unable to get out, it would be a long, long walk home.  Twice I nearly went for it, but something held me back. I turned myself around and headed back to the cabin.

Still on South Trail but getting closer to home.

The next morning I was concerned about getting out with my truck. Boulder Hill isn't plowed so it would be a challenge to say the least. I soon discovered that Grizzly Road hadn't seen a plow yet either. I took a chance and never put on the chains. Three tries up the hill and I made it. Somebody had come down the hill so I tried to stay in his tracks as best I could. Twice I got pulled out of them and then had to back down the hill, but I knew I would make it without the chains on.

Highway 16 until just outside of Stony Plain was a disaster, glare ice most of the way and I only saw one sand truck but several vehicles in the ditch... go figure.

Highway 16, I'm in the fast lane. Eighty to 90 Kilometres an hour most of the way.

 Until next time!