Gordon Gessner's favourite part of trapping is finding out what he's caught.
"I always want to find out what went there. I've never once tried to do it for money, I've always done it just for enjoyment," he says.
"I would definitely say, just the anticipation of not knowing what has been there. Say you're muskrat trapping, you could have caught a muskrat but maybe a mink came and ate your muskrat and now all you've got is a foot left. Every time you check your trap it could tell a story."
Like the time he caught his first beaver at the age of 12.
Gessner got his start when he was seven, setting traps for gophers and rabbits with his uncles around his hometown of Churchbridge. At 12, he graduated to beavers, muskrats, mink and raccoons.
One day, he followed his trap line to a weathered, 86-pound male beaver. It was too big for him to remove from the trap himself, "so I had to pedal my bike all the way back into Churchbridge, I got my buddy and his dad and the three of us drove out with a truck and we wrestled it out of the trap," he recalls.
The arthritic creature had only a third of its tail remaining. It had previously suffered multiple bullet wounds, and numerous bullets were still lodged in its body.
"You can catch a thousand other beavers and never see that again," Gessner says.
He had to give up trapping after graduating high school, since there wasn't much opportunity to do it when he moved through Lethbridge and Moose Jaw.
Now the 29-year-old is back in Saskatoon, working at the Cabela's outlet. Last year, he started setting traps again.
Mainly, he was looking for muskrats. Prices for their pelts have nearly doubled in recent years, to around $13.50 from $7, he says.
Coyote pelts have also skyrocketed in value, to an average of about $80 from as low as $35.
The total cash value of pelts sold in Saskatchewan has fluctuated between $1 million and $3 million over the past 15 years, hitting a low of $1.1 million from 55,001 pelts in 2010.
Those numbers soared in 2012, when 130,949 pelts earned almost $4.3 million.
North American Fur Auctions, one of the two major fur auctions in Canada, reports on its website that in this year's May sale, nearly 100 per cent of all stock was sold.
More than 300,000 muskrat pelts sold out at the "unbelievable, historically high price of $14.02 for the regular pelts and an overall average including low-grades of $13.90. To the best of our knowledge this has never been achieved before," the site says.
Still, it's a challenge to make a living solely from trapping. For Gessner, it's a hobby. Given the amount of driving it takes to cover a trapping area, gas is too expensive, he says.
"If one was able to find a whole bunch of used traps, if I had three weeks off work ... you know, I still don't know. If it was my only job I don't think I'd be able to do it. Even the serious trappers I know, they certainly earn some income on the side."
The spike in prices is due to increasing demand from overseas markets, says Don Gordon, president of the Saskatchewan Trappers Association.
China buys furs for manufacturing. Japan, Korea and Taiwan are strong retail markets, with cold spells and people with money to spend, he says.
The higher prices are attracting more young people to the lifestyle.
"The youth in the province are more interested. The Trappers Association has held more and more classes; larger groups of kids are coming through," Gordon says.
It's simple math: 100 muskrat pelts at $10 each brings in $1,000, he notes.
"You can do that in a weekend, versus flipping burgers at McDonald's for $10 an hour."
But trapping is hard work, he cautions.
"People don't realize how dedicated you are when you are trapping. When you set that trap you're committed to checking it daily, or we have check times in areas up to three days. You can't just say, 'I'm going to Mexico for a week and I'll check my traps when I get home.' " Trappers also see themselves as stewards of the land.
"We're doing this to harvest a surplus, balance nature and prevent things like this beaver problem and coyote problem in the province, overpopulation in areas causing grief with human interaction."
Despite the hard work, Gordon has continued trapping for nearly 40 years. "It's kind of hard to describe. You have to be a unique person to do this, especially in the bush. You're out there by yourself - yeah, you can take people with you, or have a trapping partner - but you're out there. I guess it's the dream a lot of people dream about and never get an opportunity to do, but once you start doing it, it's kind of tough to give it up."
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