A series of events on the trapline had left me, well, a bit frustrated, needing a change — a new outlook, if you will. Not to say I wasn’t putting out iron, just something to kick-start my attitude. Then, while cleaning up the fur shed one spring morning I got to recalling those first traplines in the farm country surrounding my boyhood home. All of the good memories of short legs, rusty tools and big plans came flooding back. After chewing it over, the notion got better looking by the hour. So I decided to see what might be awaiting me right off the back porch.
REBOOTING
Going back to the beginning sure seemed a good way to reignite some of my ordinarily boundless enthusiasm. Consecutive seasons of long lines with poor returns, brutal conditions and particularly reluctant furbearers had knocked me down a peg. Maybe recharge the batteries and get back to the basics. Rebooting is the word today, but it all came down to improving my attitude. And perhaps reclaiming a little of the excitement and less of the selfimposed rules, before dollars, jobs and a whole host of other nagging problems dampened the days.
Just to keep the operation honest I did a little canvasing among the local trappers and was pleased to discover it was wide open. The majority of the landowners I’d known since grade school, and they were very
