The Year of the Kitten

December 19-21, 2014: This trip was almost like something out of the Twilight Zone. Just when you thought something else strange wouldn't happen, sure enough, happen it did.

The trip began as our last one did; we headed to the ranch to check the small number of snares that we have up there and our two mink boxes. The plan is to spend a full day there over the Xmas holidays to get a bunch more sets out for coyotes. With the amount we have up, we're lucky we even caught the one coyote we did. This check, all our snares were empty and what was once an area covered in coyote tracks, now appears to be devoid of the critters. One of our mink boxes held a big buck weasel, the other was empty.

Dakota with the big buck weasel from the ranch.

We left the ranch and headed for the trapline. At the top of Boulder Hill, we again got out and examined the hill, which looked just as icy as the last time we were there. Just as I was about to start unloading the Ski-doo and toboggan, an oilfield truck passed us and headed down the hill. Dakota and I sat and watched as the driver stuck far to the left side and made it down the hill without issue. We decided we would try to do the same. There was only one bad spot that nearly had us sliding down to the bottom out-of-control, but we regained our grip and got to the bottom safely.

We left our parking spot all loaded up and headed towards the cabin. At the top of the wellsite just before Cabin Trail, we suddenly spotted a lynx that ran down the hill in front of us. I quickly grabbed the .22, hoping for a shot when suddenly, another lynx appeared. Through the scope, I could tell they were both kittens of good size. But where was the mom? Changing rifle for camera, I took some photos of the pair. We have a lynx cubby just a short distance away, so I remarked to Dakota that we probably had the mom in our snare. Upon arrival, however, what we found in our snare was another kitten; one of the siblings of the other two. We're still not sure where the mother cat is because we certainly haven't caught her. These kittens are big enough to be on their own so perhaps mom has already given them the boot.

Two of the three lynx kittens.

Looking back just before disappearing into the forest.

The third lynx of our trio

Happy with our catch before even reaching the cabin, we unloaded and prepared our stuff for the following day. After supper, we watched a movie before hitting the hay.

We left the cabin the next morning right at daybreak. It was going to be reasonably warm and in the -3 Celsius range with clear skies. A little too warm for my liking but a glorious day regardless. Our first lynx sets were empty but a surprise greeted us at the Gulo Pen. It appeared as though a rabbit had tried to get at our bait and got snapped in the 220 that guards the Gulo Pen entrance. Then, something came along and made a meal of the rabbit. We're not sure what because of the hard ground conditions and lack of sign, but I would presume a lynx.

You can see the trap has been drug to the side of the Gulo Pen.

A closer look at the rabbit fur still stuck in the trap.

We left Gulo Trail and turned onto Cabin Trail Road. Not 20 yards up, we suddenly spotted another pair of lynx kittens on the road in front of us. They gave us enough time to quickly get a photo of one of them while it was still on the road. I took a few more photos of just a single kitten because it was all we could find, the other one had disappeared. These kittens were half the size of the ones we'd photographed the day before and again, without a mom. We have a trail snare not too far from where we stood, so again, we figured we had maybe caught the mother cat there.

One of the small kittens that crossed the road in front of us.

One of the tiny kittens that gave me ample opportunity for photos.

We were beginning to feel like we were surrounded by lynx kittens. It seemed like they were everywhere. A definite good sign. Our trapline may not hold huge numbers of marten and other critters, but a lynx line it surely is.

Our next stop was to check a mink box under a bridge, which was empty with its bait stolen - bloody weasels! From there, we stopped at the trail snare and sure enough a big cat lay dead beside the trail. We suspected it was the mother cat of at least one of the sets of kittens but upon further examination, we discovered we'd caught a big tom. The mother cat question still remains unanswered.

The trail meanders along the top of a ridge that follows a creek. You can see the big tom lying to the right.

Dakota holds up our catch.

Unnamed Trail was next on the list. We've had good luck on this trail catching lynx, so I suspected we might have our third one there. We'd caught one there the previous trip but this time we were left empty-handed; except for two weasels of course! Our weasel count continues to climb. The little buggers wouldn't get caught if they didn't try to haul the bait out of the box, but they're greedy and want it all at once.

No shortage of weasels on the trapline.

From Unnamed Trail we hit West Trail for the first time in a couple of years. I wanted to set the marten boxes that we have there; however, two of the marten boxes on the first part of West Trail had been consumed by porcupines leaving only two we could set. The last part of West Trail requires a short trip down a road, which had no snow on it, so our plan was abandoned and we headed for Center Trail.

Our first trap at Center Trail had a story to tell, or at least could tell a story if it was anywhere to be found. The trap was gone! The pole that held the marten box had been ripped from the tree, and the marten box was now hanging precariously from the pole that was now only held by one side. I have no photos to show because in our search for the missing trap and the tracks that might give us a clue as to the culprit, I forgot to take some. It isn't unreasonable to believe though that a wolverine had entered our trap and was caught, perhaps by the foot. What else could tear the pole from the tree that was held by 6-inch spikes, yank the trap from the fencepost nail that held it to the pole, and disappear with the trap? It would take considerable power to pull the pole from the tree. Again, because of hard ground conditions, no tracks were discernible.

Our next trap on Center Trail - a 220 in a cubby set for fisher - had been set off, was lying outside the cubby and our bait was gone. Perhaps the work of the wolverine prior to finding our other set? The mystery may never be answered but I can come to no other conclusion than a wolverine. It was turning into a strange day indeed. Little did I know at the time, it was about to get even stranger!

We reached Clear Trail, our final destination before we'd return to the cabin for the evening. Our first trap held another weasel.

If they didn't try to steal the bait, they wouldn't get caught.
Here you can see both bait and weasel are caught in the trap.

Next we arrived at the only spot where we have squirrel snares set. There is a huge midden here and the squirrels seem to congregate in large numbers. With only six snares up, we were happy to see that three of them held a catch. Surprisingly, each was a male.

Another squirrel is to the left and out of the photo.

The next set we have on Clear Trail is a walk-through lynx cubby. Just as we were pulling up to it, I noticed movement on the far end. Wondering what the heck it was, I was suddenly shocked - and dismayed - to discover a large owl was caught in our snare. The owl was alive and looked just fine. I looked at Dakota and just shook my head. How in the world was I going to get a snare off the neck of an owl without losing a finger or two? At first, I thought it was a great grey owl but Dakota said it couldn't be because it didn't have bright yellow eyes. We later determined it was a barred owl. The only owl that has black eyes and black they were, as it looked at me with sharp beak and talons ready to strike! According to the bird book we have at the cabin, barred owls are not scavengers, so why would it have tried to enter our cubby? Was there another animal in there that it wanted; perhaps a snowshoe hare?

Dakota removed his jacket and handed it to me. We then went to work in trying to remove the owl. Surprisingly, the owl remained quite calm. I could feel its neck was quite thick, as I worked the camlock with my fingers. The snare was barely pulled tight around its neck. In short order, I had the snare free of the owl who refused to leave. Even after a little prodding with a branch, the owl remained motionless. Twenty minutes later, we decided we'd leave the owl as it was and check back in the morning to see if it was gone or had perhaps expired.

The barred owl with his back to us.

You can see the barred owl looking at me at the bottom right of the photo.

Not a happy camper.

The first step, try to get something overtop the owl to try to calm it.

Here I'm trying to discern where the lock on the snare is.

Surprisingly, the snare was barely tight and came off quite easily and, I didn't lose a finger!

The owl is now free from the snare.

Even a little prodding wouldn't get the owl on its way.

We arrived back at the cabin without further incident. Dakota went to check on his mink box behind the cabin and surprise!... NOT! Another weasel had been caught. I think our count is now seven and we're just getting started. I have a feeling that if we had all our sets out this year, we'd already be in the 20's.

Another weasel!

We had steaks on the outside firepit for supper and enjoyed them with fried potatoes and beans. We watched another movie and then hit the sack. It was a strange day and one we'll never forget. I think days like this are one of the reasons why I love trapping so much. You never know what a day is going to hold in store for you and even on days when nothing happens, it's still an amazing feeling to be alone in the middle of winter in the middle of nowhere and being at one with nature.

Dakota with our two lynx of the trip. Not bad considering we only have 9 cubbies up.

Another look at the lynx in front of the cabin with the toboggan in the foreground.

Steaks grilling on the open fire. What could be better than that!

It started to snow that night, so I was concerned with getting back up the icy Boulder Hill the next morning on our way home. Feeling it's better to be safe rather than sorry, we chained up before starting the climb, and made it up the hill without issue.

Prior to leaving, I took the Ski-doo up Clear Trail to check on our owl. He must be fine because he was nowhere in sight. Perhaps he was just waiting for it to get dark outside before continuing on his way. I reset the snare on that end of the cubby, and bid the trapline farewell!

Until next time!