Trapper Blue

He talked fast, frequently stopping to flash a quick smile and an upward nod after a witty remark. Large quantities of local knowledge squeezed between his lips. It was a strain keeping up even though I was passionate about the information. His character was steeped in the local area and pleasantly strong. Blue carried himself with an ego built on experience. The longer I spent with him the more I understood the bragging was his way of communicating indescribably intimate and sometimes harsh interactions he has had with the surrounding forest and waterways over the past sixty years. We were in his world. He looked at us not with animosity or judgement, but a care akin to a loving father. The utmost effort was expended in upgrading various pieces of our wardrobe for our journey on the -35 day. Eventually we discussed the financials of his lifestyle. In the matter of trapping and the sale of furs, he breaks even every year with gas and other costs. Many folks from all over the province visit him, riding the lines and learning the old ways. To him that is priceless. A master of tours in the frigid north, he had planned stops where he makes groups walk to send blood to numbing fingers and toes.

Blue digs out a foothold trap that has been drifted in.

In the five years since he took over all the family trap lines at the north end of Montreal Lake, his catch has increased every year as population management improves the capacity of the region. Natural populations have dynamic curves due to prey availability. By trapping all species, the over-predation and prey scarcity never happens. Making the surviving individuals prosper. Blue also actively takes prey (grouse and rabbits) preventing overpopulation and disease of these species.

Heavy snows disguise the shoreline of Molanosa Lake, the end of one trapline.

“I’m used to it.” He often said while surrendering a jacket or pair of handmade fur mitts. Rapidly he would Segway into times in the past week he had been out all day checking the traps and resetting them if required. His lines stretched for miles, but none of them more than 15 from a warm stove. “A wise old man once told me never to go further than you’re willing to walk”, he quickly instilled. As we winded our way through ridges of mature jack pine and long, low lying spruce bogs, memories were triggered and shared. Here he had trapped a lynx with a snare set that pivoted, instantly suspending the animal ten feet in the air. There he had gotten so close to a young cow moose he was able to poke her with his rifle, but did not shoot. At times Blue would delve deep into his methods that were scientific in the way he had refined them. The location of fresh moose tracks were always recorded on a calendar. When he required the meat, he would refer to that day on calendars of previous years and know the moose would be back. He attributed this to the “cycle of life.” When that moose was young, that cycle was the path it took with its mother during its first year in the world, and the animal would continue to follow it for the remainder of its life cycle. Though he wore more modern boots for trapping and fishing, he insisted on moccasins for tracking moose. Hoofed animals could feel the vibration of stiffer footwear striking the ground.

A ridge of jack pine in the historical town limits of Molanosa

Several times he mentioned his place in the forest as the apex predator. On many occasions he had observed behaviour indicating so by the other carnivores. He claimed they could smell his lack of fear and the perfume of his trade. He has never had a bear charge him. Wolves and wild dogs flee from him. One time he visited a deer ranch near Nipawin. All the deer quickly retreated to the other side of the pasture. The landowner inquired if he was a hunter, and said he’d never seen them clear out so fast.

Blue seated on his snowmobile for a smoke break, shouldering a .22

He shared the area history with us as we warmed up and dried out by the stove. A birch bark map of the town site from the 1960’s was passed around. Blue and his siblings had been the last children of Molanosa. They spent their summers in canvas tents on the shore of Montreal Lake, and winters in a cabin farther into the woods. As a young boy he went out with snares and a .22. If he came back with nothing he wouldn’t eat. His understanding of the local wildlife was built on a necessity to survive.

Stories by the stove.

The other residents were encouraged to move to other nearby towns like Timber Bay, Weyakwin, Montreal Lake and La Ronge. It was common practice to burn the house after they left so they could not return. Blue never told us who did the burning, but I assume it was some representative of the Department of Indian Affairs. He mentioned that “they” wanted everyone separated, for Molanosa was a mixed community of Cree, Metis, and even two AWOL Russians. In its glory days, Molanosa had an airport, a Hudson Bay store, and a church. Currently, the only residents are Blue and two others that dwell in a separate cabin. Many people visit in the summertime to camp. Molanosa is situated in the geographical centre of Saskatchewan. An adhesion to treaty six was signed on the ice just off the shores of the townsite.

Map of Molanosa painted on birch bark, with a southerly orientation. (cir. 1960's)

Follow along with the adventures of Trapper Blue and other nearby trappers on his Facebook page "Trapper. Blue n Friends"