The Trapper

By Lloyd Antypowich

Within each of us burns a desire that drives our journey along life’s pathway. For Bert Babcock it was to be a trapper. His love for the outdoors and the wilderness drew him like a magnet to the wilderness of Northern Alberta, Canada, some two hundred miles north northwest of Lesser Slave Lake. He was a normal young man who liked to go to dances and parties. His good friend Randy and his wife would kid him all the time, asking when was he going to find him a wife so they could go out as couples. But to Bert these times were just a moment in his life. To live a solitarily life of trapping like he did, was his passion. A wife might be nice to have, but right now it was not too high on his list of priorities.

As time went by, events in his life proved his true character. Finding a native girl that was starving to death in a very crude shelter caused him to dig deep into his conscience to do the right thing. He did not have provisions for another person, but he couldn’t leave her to die. When his friend and pilot did not come back to pick him up in the spring, he had to decide what he was going to do. Nearly out of food, he had but one choice and that was to walk out. But he had not just himself to think about, but also the young girl that he learned to care for in a very special way. Was it love? He believed it was. Would she be able to make it out all the way? He had saved her life once could he do it again. He really didn’t have a choice. It was only by the skin of their teeth that they survived that long tiresome journey. They were nearly killed by a grizzly attack, and then fatigue and starvation almost done them in.

Not to give away any exciting moments, you will read of how Bert and another pilot flew over an area to look for a crash site that had been spotted. When they located it, the RCMP asked them to walk in and take pictures of the wreck to identify the plane. They were to bring any remains back with them to give closure to the wreckage and death of the pilot. Bert was nearly killed by a large grizzly on the trip. It was sheer determination that kept him going. Although he was quite seriously injured he completed the task that he was given.

As he ever so gently placed the remains found at the wreckage into the bag he said, “Randy, I would have much rather have liked to have gone fishing with you.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lloyd Antypowich
• Release date: Oct 27, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370887705

Lloyd Antypowich

As a young boy Lloyd moved to the Slave Lake area with his family in the spring of 1948. His father was a logger and mill operator. This was mainly a family operation, hiring help only when it was really necessary. One could say it was operating on a labor of love; they loved each other and labored as hard as they possibly could, hoping that next year would be better.For Lloyd it was a wonderful place to grow up. The lake was enticing; fishing, trapping and hunting were at the top of his priorities. But although his dad liked to show him how to do all these things, making enough money to pay for the saw mill was top priority, and every one had a job to do; lshovel sawdust, pile lumber, or roll logs to the sawyer. A lot of this was more than a kid should have had to do, but it never killed him. In fact, it made a mam out of him a lot earlier than was normal, but it was sure hard on the fishing and trapping. As the operation grew bigger and bigger, more men were required to keep the mill operating at a faster pace. His sister was designated book keeper, but as well she helped his mother cook. His two older brothers could do most anything around the mill, and his dad was the sawyer. That left a faller, someone to skid the logs and haul them into the mill, someone to pile lumber, someone to tail the saw, someone to run the edger, someone to tail the edger and someone to cant the logs for the sawyer. When the mill shut down at the end of the day, the family came out to deck logs, shovel sawdust, and service the mill to get it ready for the next day. When that was all done, everyone was ready for bed.The operation grew quite quickly, soon power saws were taking over the Swede saw or crosscut saw, then a cat was added, then a truck, and a bigger power unit to run the mill. A trim saw, a green chain and a planer, all made things go faster and easier. Although they increased production, they still had to be paid for.But life was easier, and it gave Lloyd a little more time to trap, which was something he loved to do. All along the Lake there were many mink ranchers and they had thousands of mink. Some would chew out of their pens and escape into the wild. Once out there, they were anyone’s when caught. Lloyd would trap them and sell them back to the mink rancher. But if it was in the summer time he didn’t get very much money for them. So, with his dads help, he built his own mink pens and would keep them till they were prime, and then he would pelt them and sell them to the fur buyer. Soon the word was out that he was catching quite a few mink. The game warden was also the Forest Range, who would stop in at the mill to check on various things.He asked Lloyd if he was trapping mink. Lloyd told him yes, he was trapping mink for one of the mink ranchers.“Are you sure that they are all his mink?”“Well he thinks they are.”He talked to Lloyd’s dad and told him that there were some complaints, and he thought that it would be better if he issued Lloyd a small trap line. Now he could trap any fur bearing animal in season.When he was fourteen years old he bought his first guitar that he ordered out of the Eaton’s catalogue. One of the employees could play and sing all the old Wilf Carter songs and Lloyd just loved that. He helped him pick out the best guitar in the catalogue. It cost just under a hundred dollars, and in those days it was a lot of money.Lloyd had a new dream he now was going to become a singing cowboy. But his dad put that idea on the rocks for him. Work was far more important than spending all his time learning all the latest tunes. And when Ken no longer worked at the mill he was on his own. As he grew older and stronger he was expected to do a man’s job.School was his savior, but between trapping and learning to pay guitar some of his grades were slipping. So his guitar spent a lot of time under his dad’s bed till he got that straightened out. School never came easy for Lloyd, he had to work hard at it mainly because he had to do so much work to do, his homework never got done. Then there were sports, football and track and field that he loved with a passion and was good at it. But it all came into a conflict with work, so into his second year of high school he quit and became part of the regular crew.They moved to High Prairie where his dad bought a bigger plaining mill. Like Slave Lake was so good to Lloyd for his trapping and fishing, High Prairie was a town that was good to him also. It had an abundance of girls and being a young man, he planned to serenade all them with his guitar. When the mill shut down after each shift he was not able to go out with the girls because he had to do the clean up around the mill. So they decided to come out and help him. Two jobs that were of utmost importance were that the area around the beehive burner had to be watered down to make sure that the sparks could not catch the shaving dust on fire. So he appointed three girls to do that job, the other three helped him clean up around the trim saw. He had told the girls to make sure they hosed down everything really well.His dad was in the tool shed sharpening a resaw blade, having finished that he stepped out the back door to check on the burner and those girls turned the water hose on him. Well they soaked him down pretty good before he was able to get the hose away from them. Then it was his turn, and when he got done they looked like drowned rats. When Lloyd came to the burner to unload the trimming blocks these three girls were trying to dry their clothes on the scaffolding around the burner. That kind of wrecked the evening, so they decided to just sit around, he played his guitar and they sang all the songs they knew until the stars come out, then he gave them a ride back up town and bought them all a pie and coffee. They did that many more times, sometimes they would have a wiener roast, pop and chips to go with it.As a young man the last thing in his mind was writing books. He was much too busy for that. But after he got all that fun stuff out of his life, he settled down and raised a family, and when he had enough of all the hard work, at seventy-two he retired. Then he took up writing books and reminiscing over the many trips he has made into the mountains, hunting and fishing.

Book preview

THE TRAPPER

By

Lloyd Antypowich

Copyright © Statement

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including recording, photocopying, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher.

Smashwords Edition

Table of Contents

Other Books

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

About The Author

Back To Top

Other books published

by Lloyd Antypowich

A HUNTING We Did Go

Lloyd is an avid hunter, he loves the mountains, and has a great knowledge of the animals in the wilderness. This book makes the reader fell like they are riding along on the journey with him, experiencing the beauty of nature, the thrill of the hunt, as well as the animal he was stalking. Time and again, people have said, I felt like I was right there with you.

Moccasins to Cowboy Boots

This is a journey of the author’s life as he followed his dream to become a rancher. Filled with history and humor, his journey takes him from the homestead where he was born in the northern wilderness of Saskatchewan. Then moved to northern Alberta where his family logged and sawmilled. Later, he worked in the oil fields and road construction, then he became a farmer at Stettler, Alberta, and a coal miner at Elkford, British Columbia. But his dream carried him into the south Cariboo, where he bought a ranch at Horsefly, British Columbia, and become a logger to help support his dream. This is not a diary of his life, but a humorous and determined journey of a man who refused to ever accept no or can’t for an answer, until he achieved his goal.

Horns and Hair of the High Country

This is a collection of stories based on the author’s experience of these animals in the wild. An elk, grizzly, goat, sheep, and a Cariboo. Closing with a section that he shares with you some real-life experiences. These are all wilderness animals, and the book portrays how they might feel as they associate with and are confronted by humans. This book draws upon the author’s intimate experience with animals of the wild. This book will be enjoyed by those who know animals, those who are curious and young and want to learn more about the animals of the wild.

Chip OFF the OLD block

This is a tribute to the author’s daughter, Cherie Jackson Maitland. They have a very deep bond and are very much alike. Except she is a female who comes in a very tiny package, and he is a big strong man. He is constantly amazed by what she accomplishes and is delighted that she shares his love for the mountains, and loves to be out in them with her husband who is a guide and outfitter. A wonderful read about a courageous little package of dynamite, a true chip off the old block.

Louisiana Man

This is a fictional book inspired by a man the man the author spent an afternoon with while he was in his late teens. This man had lived a remarkable life and was happy to share his harrowing life stories, as well as showing off the spots in his back where buckshot still lay under the skin. The hero of this story, Tom Menzer, is the authors reincarnation of this sort of man. Tom Menzer leaves his home in Louisiana to follow his dream. This is a story in the best of historical Western tradition, filled with drama, insight into the Indian culture in the late 1800’s, the role of the white man as they pushed them aside, the struggles of a man who had a foot in both camps, and his journey into Canada to avoid the conflict. It is a tale well worth your read.

Dedication

I dedicate this book to all the Trappers old and young, but to the old ones who have tramped many miles on snow shoes and used dog teams for transportation, I take my hat off to you. You will understand this book as it was meant to be. To all the bush pilots that have flown that northern land, before all the modern equipment came available, when the compass was your main instrument. Before all the roads, seismic lines and oil development took place. And to any of you who just might have walked away from a hard landing. To all the pioneers who were brave enough to have pioneered that north country. And to the natives, that lived where few other people dared to live; you are a courageous people.

Chapter One

In the mid forty’s/early fifty’s, the town of Slave Lake, Alberta, was a sleepy little town, except for on Saturday night. That was when the Slave Lake Hotel and Bar come alive. People came from miles around to exchange stories, catch up on all the latest news, and drink a few beers.

Lesser Slave Lake itself is a big part of history. It is eighty-five miles long and sixteen miles wide, and although no one knows for sure the date of its birth, it has been around for a very long time. It is marked as a spot on the map of this planet for all to know and has facilitated life to the millions of creatures that were designed to do their part in the chain of command as the creator planned it to be. It gave birth to millions of creatures that live in the water, and on the water. It was a resting place for the migratory birds that flew on to the Arctic to nest. As to all creatures that are dependent on water to sustain their life, it did that as they came to its shores to drink. As the creator looked down on his mighty handiwork, I am sure that he was pleased as he looked at Lesser Slave Lake. It has been the starting point in life for many, including man.

It was the starting point for Bert Babcock. As he grew in life, he learned to be a great friend with the lake, just as many others did. He learned to respect it and to love it for its strength and its kindness. As a young lad, he would go to the lake and learn all about nature; the fish, frogs, bugs and beetles. It entertained him for hours. And what he did not understand, he came back and asked his dad about. His dad would say that he spent so much time in the water that he would start to grow webbed feet. As he grew older, he realized that it not only entertained him, but it was his source for food. It not only gave his family fish to eat, but it gave his dad fish to feed his little mink ranch, that in turn would enable them to buy all the other things that they needed to sustain them.

He learned to fish with a net to catch the fish that were needed to feed his father’s mink. Fishing could be a lot of fun, but also a lot of work. He would row the boat, while his father picked the fish out of the net. Sometimes it would be a big load, and if it wasn’t they would have to move the net to another spot in the lake to find a better run of fish.

His dad taught him how to trap for the mink that ran along the shore looking for any dead fish that might wash up. He also taught him how to trap the rats that lived in the marshy bays. To Bert, this was exciting and very interesting. Soon he was getting quite good at it. And that of course made his dad real proud of him. He nick-named him Trapper.

There was a little village along the lake called Wide Water, because it was the widest part of the lake. It serviced the people that lived nearby; it had a store, post office and a man that was handy at helping anyone that might need help as they journeyed through the area. There was also a boat builder, and he built sleighs and toboggans for dog teams as well. Later on, the community grew bigger, and a school was built for the young members of the population.

Joe, Bert’s dad, would get his mail and groceries at that store. It was Joe’s opinion that one-day Slave Lake would be a thriving metropolis: that people from all over the province would want to come and live by this great lake.

In the summer the lake was a source of transportation by boat, in winter it was done by dog team. The road was just a trail for horse and wagon. In the winter you could get snowed in, and in the summer and spring time you were most likely to be stuck in a mud hole. But that never stopped the aggressive pioneer that struggled to press on in search of a dream; a dream that would pave the way for others to follow, one that has opened up the northern part of our country.

Wherever there was land that people could plow up a few acers to grow a garden and feed for their animals, they would. That usually turned into way-side houses to service the people that were going to places beyond. Some stayed in little communities that were developed all along the lake. And at some locations, the land was very much suited for farming, and at those places, bigger communities developed.

In the Slave Lake community, there were trappers, mink ranchers, loggers and the mill laborers, with a healthy sprinkling of native and part natives. That made for a good mix on payday or Saturday nights at the bar. The source of income was mainly logging, milling, fishing, mink ranching, and trapping, along with the merchants that served the area. As the area opened up more with each passing year, there were people that worked on the weather stations and the construction of roads and highways to facilitate the coming of the motorized vehicles. When the second world war broke out, it encouraged the upgrading of the railroad and highways to facilitate the American Army to connect to Alaska.

Brawls and fisticuffs were a common occurrence on Saturday nights at the bar. To keep the peace, the Royal Canadian Mounted police had a detachment there as well. And they did a good job of keeping the lid on things. The Royal Canadian Mounted Police in those earlier years logged many miles with a dog team to get to places, that were inaccessible in any other way, to enforce the law.

There are stories told of the old and bold; old pioneers and trappers that braved that northern land and brought it into civilization. And after a few beers at the pub, a little more got added to each story. Some were worthy of becoming a book as they played such a dramatic part of the history of that northern land.

One such story was an Indian lady that trapped rats in the back waters at the